Chapter 6
Boone glanced at the clock, untucking and retucking his crisp olive-green shirt into his pants. Did his clothes really have to rebel against him today? Why was getting dressed suddenly so difficult? He could’ve done this with his eyes closed a year ago, damn it.
Today, however, seemed fit to make a complete fool of him. Boone grumbled to himself as he fixed his pants' legs, shaking them straight.
He sighed, running his hand through his hair. Boone only hoped he could focus on the lesson once Demarien arrived. He chewed his lip nervously. He hadn’t heard anything from Demarien or the others since last night.
Boone wasn’t one to pay much attention to gossip.
Small-town talk was all talk, after all.
However, the buzz around town was nothing short of terrifying.
It had already gone from one body to six, with talk of corruption in the police department as well.
Despite knowing better, it was enough to make him worry even more than he already was.
A murder in Myrtlewood Bay? Boone grimaced. Been a long time since anything this big happened.
Boone rubbed his eyes, letting out a long sigh. He’d been so worried about Demarien and the others that he hadn’t slept much last night. Every time he thought sleep was about to claim him, his stupid brain came up with another horrible thing that could happen to Demarien.
Eventually, he ended up dragging himself from his bed and started poring over the lesson he had planned out.
After all his time in the military, that kind of structure soothed him.
It was easy to lose himself in the words, watching the motions play out in his mind.
He could probably re-enact the entire lesson without missing a beat.
A series of squeaks echoed through the large room, snapping Boone from his gripes. Boone chuckled to himself. The small kitchen, separated from the main room by a half-wall barrier, had become a guinea pig reserve at least until Boone and Demarien could get those little piggies to Felix.
True to his word, he had found a guinea pig next door at the rescue that was ready to go to a new home. It even came with friends, just like Demarien. What’s two extra guinea pigs, anyway? He thought.
A small niggle of worry grew in his stomach again. Demarien was late. What if the murderer decided that the cabin by the beach looked interesting? What if they came back and demanded something else from the estate? What if --?
I should have stayed with him last night. Boone grimaced as he paced the floor. Not every day you come face-to-face with something like that. Poor Demarien.
The bell above the door jingled. “Sorry, I’m late, I --”
Boone spun around as Demarien’s concerned voice called out to him from the entrance. The poor guy barely had a chance to move before Boone was in front of him, wrapping him up in a huge bear hug.
“I’m so glad you’re safe,” Boone whispered, begrudgingly peeling himself from Demarien. “You have no idea how worried I was for --”
Boone’s voice caught in his throat as he raked his eyes over the form-fitting outfit Demarien wore. He was dressed in a ridiculously sexy exercise outfit. At least it was sexy to Boone. Then again, Demarien could be dressed in a garbage bag, and Boone would still think he was sexy.
A thick, pink bandana pushed Demarien’s hair up from his face, and a matching pink tank showed off his arms. A picture of the golden girls stared at Boone from the shirt, their knowing smirks judging him. The grey leggings and pink short-shorts showed off Demarien’s ass and thighs perfectly.
“The shirt is too much, isn’t it?” Demarien snorted. “It’s my favorite workout shirt, so I couldn’t resist wearing it.”
Boone looked him up and down, blood heating. “I like it.” He couldn’t keep his eyes from Demarien. The man had been cute when they were younger, but now? He was absolutely captivating. Boon couldn’t stop staring, eyes devouring every inch of the man in front of him.
After a while, Demarien waved his hand in front of Boone’s face. “Helloooo? Are you okay? Do I need to come back later? You do look a bit tired.”
Boone’s face flushed. “Sorry. It’s been a morning. Didn’t sleep too much last night. Was too worried to sleep.” Boone sighed, reaching out for Demarien’s hand. “But don’t worry about me. How is everyone on your end holding up?”
Demarien squeezed Boone’s hand and grimaced. “About as well as expected. I guess now we can advertise as Oregon’s first haunted inn. The biggest tourist attraction of the town.” Demarien chuckled under his breath as his face fell.
“No, no, no, that sad face won’t do at all. Not on my watch.” Boone pulled Demarien to the mats in the center of the room. “Okay. This mat right here? This is where I need your mind to go blank. Go on, give it a try.”
Boone held his breath as Demarien’s eyes slipped closed.
“Don’t think about anything outside the confines of this mat.” Boone clasped Demarien’s hands tighter. “Here, it’s just you, me, and Mac.”
Demarien’s eyes shot open. “Mac? Who’s Mac? The mat?”
“Mac is a dear friend of mine. One who’s gotten me out of trouble many times.” Boone snorted. “Welcome to your first lesson in Modern Army Combatives.” Boone stepped back from Demarien and circled him. “Now, we have a lot of ground to cover. Let’s start with --”
“Gotta warm up first, right, teach?” Demarien smirked, widening his stance before he started doing simple windmill exercises. Simple, yet just enough to really show off some firm muscles in his arms and legs. He bent over and touched his toes.
Is it suddenly warm in here? Boone turned his attention to the nearby lockers, swallowing hard as Demarien sighed deeply behind him.
“Okay, let’s get started.” Demarien balled his hands up into fists and took a defensive stance. “What’s first on the list?”
“Uh... “ Boone reeled. He spun around and forced a smile, hoping it would disguise the fact that he had just forgotten the entire lesson plan he’d spent all night going over.
He had gone over this lesson plan again and again. He had taught self-defense for years now. There hadn’t been a time in his entire military career that he’d blanked out. He did not just forget hours of practice just because Demarien bent over, damn it.
However, Demarien’s expectant smile said that now was the time for Boone to commence with a popular technique that’d gotten him through some of the toughest situations in his life. Winging it.
Boone took a deep, steadying breath and locked his arms at the small of his back as he circled Demarien. “Okay, so Modern Army Combatives, or our good friend Mac, is really one big combo of a ton of different kinds of martial arts. Namely Jiu-Jitsu and Muay Thai, which we’ll be focusing on today.”
Boone took Demarien’s hands in his and unfurled them.
“First off, cool it with the fisticuffs. Focus on your stance for now.” He felt Demarien tense up as he ran his hands down Demarien’s arms up to his hands again.
“Like this. Feet shoulder length apart, hands level with your face. Keep your fingers relaxed. There you go.”
“Okay, now what?”
“Just hold that position for now. Get a feel for it and listen.” Boone paced around the mat, sinking into the soft pad with each step.
“Now, in the army, you’re taught that you have three options when it comes to an opposing threat.
You can disengage and put some space between you and your opponent, gain a more controlling position and use another weapon at your disposal, or…
” Boone leaned forward and took hold of Demarien’s wrists gently.
“...you can close the distance to gain more control over your opponent and potentially end the fight.”
“So what do you recommend for, say, someone built like you?” Demarien tilted his head, a smirk playing on his lips.
Boone arched an eyebrow. “Built like me? Why me?”
“What?” Demarien relaxed his pose. “When we started, you said it was just you, me, and Mac, right?”
Shit, I did. Boone bit his lip, releasing his hold on Demarien and pinching his chin in thought. “Yeah, okay. That makes sense.”
“Well, let’s get a move on! I think I’m ready to take you down.” Demarien punched at the air, hopping lightly on his feet.
“Alright, if you really think you’re ready, we’ll move on to avoidance and evasion.” Boone took a defensive stance and locked eyes with Demarien. “Now, try to hit me with your best shot.”
“Sounds like a bet to me,” Demarien growled under his breath, a smirk playing at the sides of his lips. It only took a moment before he jabbed at Boone, forcing his way closer in an attempt to finish the fight.
Unfortunately for Demarien, Boone was faster than he looked, despite his past injuries. Funnily enough, the pain pulsing through his leg only made him feel more alive. After all, nothing could change the fact that he was here, in this moment, sparring with the cutest omega this side of everywhere.
“Avoiding and evading, while similar, are not the same.” Boone dodged each of Demarien’s swings, light on his feet. “To avoid is to circumvent an attack while remaining within range for a counter. This is how you can end the fight quickly if you’re faster than your opponent.”
He hopped back, smirking as Demarien took a step forward. “Now that was evasion. Evasion is to dodge the attack, forcing your opponent to move. This will break their rooted stance and give you a chance to get into a more controlling position.”
Boone felt his heart speed up as he watched Demarien’s cute, determined face. But there was something besides determination in his eyes. Boone squinted, noticing the way Demarien smirked when he thought about making a strike, the way he licked his lips when he hopped around, mimicking Boone.
And especially the way he--
A formidable force abruptly slammed against Boone’s face, forcing stars across his vision. He reeled back, blistering pain rushing to the left side of his face.
“Oh, dickwhistles, I’m so sorry, Boone!”