Chapter Twenty-Two
Damn, he’s beautiful.
Matt couldn’t help but stare as Shane walked with his class up from the beach toward the building where the equipment drying cages were. He was wearing a wet suit top and the standard canvas swim trunks, his diving rig strapped to his back.
Sand coated every inch of him and wet fabric clung to ridged, corded muscle. Matt dragged his eyes from Shane’s prominent bulge up to his face, only to meet his amused gaze.
“Hey, Soup.”
The voice behind him caused Matt to jump a mile, much to Aaron’s mocking disgust.
“Wow, such steady nerves,” he teased, reaching out to give Matt a shove. “And they’re letting you play with guns?”
“Aww, fuck you,” Matt mumbled as he shoved him back, wanting to kick himself for flirting with Shane right under so many noses. “Whaddya want, asswipe?”
“So get this.” Aaron propped his elbow on Matt’s shoulder. “This one dude I know, his girlfriend is a bartender at some kick-ass new nightclub.”
Matt eyed him warily. “So?”
“So?” Aaron pushed on his head. “She’s gonna get a group of us in tonight, no cover charge, no waiting in line. Slip us some pitchers of beer. All we have to do is make sure we’re generous with tips for the servers.” He waggled his eyebrows. “A bunch of us are goin’. You in?”
Matt hesitated, not wanting to automatically say no this time.
“C’mon, Soup, stop being such a loner for once.”
“Okay, sure. I’m in,” he said, trying not to sound as reluctant as he felt. A dudebro drunkfest wasn’t his favorite way to spend a Friday night, but he did need to make more of an effort. Once he got to a team…
“Great!” Aaron clapped his shoulder. “And, uh, do you think you’d mind being our DD?”
Ah. The real reason for the invitation. Matt heaved an inward sigh. “No, I don’t mind driving. My truck isn’t big enough, though.”
Aaron assured him they had adequate transportation, and before hurrying off, shouted out when and where they were meeting.
After he’d gone, Matt found himself wandering toward the dive shed where Shane’s class was rinsing off and resetting their equipment to get ready for the next practical.
Not wanting to interrupt if they were debriefing, he paused outside the entrance, the familiar smell of sweat, rubber and seawater tickling his nostrils.
Thank fuck he was done with this part of it, his stomach churning at the memory of that dark, cold water…
And people thought SEALs were fearless. Ha.
Then he grinned. He’d love to be around when Shane took his first dive out of an airplane. Now that oughta be a sight to see.
As he hovered in the doorway to the dive shed, loud, excited chatter echoed back at him, letting him know the group had been secured from training, at least for the moment.
He ambled inside, searching each drying cage until he found Shane, who was busy recharging some oxygen bottles, his wet suit top down around his waist.
As always, Shane’s sheer physical beauty stole Matt’s breath. He cleared his throat. “Hey.”
Shane glanced up, a mild look of annoyance on his face at the interruption, which morphed into a look of such warmth, and welcome, that Matt went tingly all over. He clenched his fists, fighting a sudden urge to rush into Shane’s arms.
God, I missed you.
“Well, hey,” Shane said huskily. He abandoned the oxygen bottles and propped his hands on his hips. “What brings you here?”
“Just saying hi.” Matt bit his lip, feeling like he could drown in the hungry blue of Shane’s eyes, wanting nothing more than to lean against that broad chest and be held close. “I, uh, got suckered into going out tonight.”
“You did?” Shane stripped his wet suit top the rest of the way off and hung it up. “How’d that happen?”
Matt shrugged. “Making an effort. It does sound kinda fun.” He told him about the nightclub, ending with, “Wanna come?”
Shane raised his eyebrows. “Why, Matt Knytych,” he murmured, sauntering closer and propping one bare shoulder against the wall near where Matt stood. “Are you asking me out on a date?”
He was so close Matt could see the individual grains of salt and sand crusting his skin, could see the pulse pounding in the hollow of his throat.
Matt smirked. “Maybe. What if I am?”
Shane’s nostrils flared as he sucked in a breath. “Then, Soup? If you don’t get out of here right now, I’m gonna kiss you to within an inch of your life. Fair warning.”
Raucous laughter and clanging metal echoed all around them as guys stowed their equipment and made their weekend plans, but Matt’s world narrowed down to the sensual promise in Shane’s raspy voice.
He backed away on trembling legs, holding Shane’s gaze for as long as he could, before turning and hurrying away.
Once outside, he crammed his hands in his pockets and paced back and forth, watching as Shane came to rinse off under an outdoor spigot, trading jokes and shoves with the other guys in his class.
Then he disappeared back inside and emerged a few minutes later, dressed in a Navy sweatshirt and a pair of track pants, his duffel over his shoulder. Matt fell into step beside him as they made their way to the parking lot and Shane’s car.
Popping the trunk, Shane tossed his duffel in and then climbed into the driver’s seat, turning the car on and powering down the window. Matt leaned his elbows against the sill, hands dangling inside. “How’ve you been?”
“Pretty good.” Shane reached up to toy with Matt’s fingers, his own still pruned from prolonged immersion in the water. “Been doing a lot of thinking.”
“Yeah?” Matt waited him out, rubbing his thumb along the back of Shane’s hand.
“You were right,” Shane said quietly, “about my motivation for coming to BUD/S. It’s part guilt, part wanting to say a big ‘fuck you’ to Jon, part wanting to experience what he did so I can feel closer to him, as messed up as that sounds.”
Matt let out a soft snort. “Since when are feelings not messy?”
Because mine are in a fucking tangle right now.
Shane sighed. “It’s true. But I love being here, Matt. I’m good at it. It’s challenging and fulfilling in a way I never dreamed it’d be.”
“You are good at it,” Matt said fiercely, gripping Shane’s fingers hard. “You’re a badass, Shane, and you got this. No matter what happens, you’re gonna make one helluva SEAL.”
“That means everything coming from you.”
Matt looked down, then took a deep breath. “So will you go out with me tonight?”
“Ah, babe.” His eyes darkening, Shane swallowed hard. “I actually have my timed physics test on Monday, and I’d already planned to study tonight with some of the guys.”
Disappointment rose into Matt’s throat, almost choking him, but he didn’t let go of Shane’s hand. “Well, the agreement was SEALs first, right?” he croaked. “Guess we gotta walk the walk, not just talk a good game.”
“Yeah.” Shane’s voice was quiet. “But it means a lot that you asked me. More than you know.”
With one final squeeze of their fingers, Matt let go of him and straightened. “Well, pass that fucking test and we’ll celebrate afterward. Okay?”
“I’ll hold you to that.” Shane pursed his lips in a silent kiss, and Matt winked at him before backing away from the car.
He watched until his taillights disappeared off into the distance, then turned to trudge toward his room.
Once there, he took a long, hot shower and stretched out on his bed, hoping to grab a quick nap.
Trey banged in and out, declaring he was off to spend the weekend with some girl he’d met while waiting in line at Chipotle over their holiday break. “We just hit it off, man. What can I say?”
“Have fun.” Amused, Matt hucked a shoe at him in lieu of goodbye, then stacked his hands under his head, managing to doze a little before it was time to get dressed and meet the guys.
He pulled on some jeans and a white tee, topping it off with his favorite denim shirt, unbuttoned, sleeves rolled to the elbow. A quick brush of his teeth, his wallet and phone slipped into pockets, and he was ready.
The night was chilly but not unbearably cold. As he made his way toward the small group of men milling around on the sidewalk, he pasted a fake smile on his face, but once he’d actually joined them, he was able to relax, determined to have fun.
“Pauly said he can borrow a van,” Aaron told him just as a set of headlights glowed in their direction and a vehicle screeched to a halt.
“You got us mommy’s minivan?” someone called out disgustedly as Pauly, at twenty-one the youngest guy in the class, hopped out and tossed the keys to Matt.
“You a beggar, Joe?” Pauly retorted back to him. “Yeah, that’s right. Then don’t be fuckin’ choosy.”
The hoots and insults flowed fast and thick as everyone piled in, sprawling across the seats, not bothering with seat belts.
“Don’t park this thing anywhere close to the fuckin’ club,” Joe yelled up to Matt, who was waiting for everyone to get situated before heading out. “Don’t want hot girls seein’ me in it.”
By the time they located the place and Matt found an “acceptable” parking spot at the curb a couple of blocks away, his jaw hurt from being clenched with annoyance.
The guys tumbled out of the van like a litter of rambunctious puppies, pushing and shoving, eager to get to the booze, the dancing and the girls.
Thumping music could be heard long before the club building itself came into view.
Neon lights mounted on the outside flashed and darted around, and a spotlight waved up into the sky.
A velvet rope held the queue of would-be patrons lined up neatly down the sidewalk, the line itself wrapping around the corner.
Professional-looking bouncers in tight black T-shirts and khaki pants roved up and down, keeping an eye on the throng.