Page 82 of Cohesion

He wouldn’t be able to look her in the eye again.

“Let me follow you back home,” Will cajoled softly. He never wanted Peyton to think that he was trying to clip his wings, or that he thought he was lesser. He was so much more, to Will, toeverything, than he could ever understand. That didn’t mean that he didn’t want to protect him.

“That sounds dirty.”

“It can sound however you want it to. Let me have this.”

“Alright. As long as I can get some more of those kisses.”

“Deal.”

Chapter Eleven

Peyton showed his militarybase pass to the guard. Once the gates opened, he lifted his foot from the ground and took off down the clean road on his bike, the rumbling of the engine between his thighs a comfort that he’d missed. Cars had nothing on this.

He found a park near the front admin building where Aidan Border—his brother’s best friend, and the man that he’d walk into fire for—and Felix Hawkins—medic, badass, and someone that Peyton owed his life to, tenfold—were leaning against the wall, waiting for him. Though they both wore standard fatigues, Aidan didn’t have his top on, just the brown-khaki T-shirt. Felix was in the full getup. It was too fucking hot for that, the psycho.

There wasn’t a lot to distinguish them from every other soldier on base except for the fact that their hair was too long to be standard issue, their confidence was palpable, and Aidan’s platinum-blond hair was like a beacon in the dull colours surrounding them. Healwayshad to wear coverage overseasbecause he stood out like a sniper’s wet dream. They’d dyed it a few times, on shorter deployments, but the upkeep was too much of a pain in the ass, so they’d taken it in turns to monitor if they needed to tug his cap down. It was always easier when they were in full gear and not attempting to blend in.

Tyler Sinclair—Peyton’s former spotter and his brother-in-law since he was married to Peyton’s brother Lucas—had always told Aidan that he’d gone into the wrong career. For a lot of reasons, most of which were unflattering, but the main being his hair.

Peyton’s older brother Danny had been best friends with Aidan since they were kids, so Peyton didn’t have any memories that didn’t have him in it. He was the reason Peyton had realised he was bisexual—a fact he would take to his grave. Peyton had wanted to be like them: strong, confident, and capable. He’d enlisted at eighteen, trying to follow in their footsteps. In hindsight, not one of his better decisions. While Aidan had headed straight for special forces, Danny had gone into mechanical engineering first before switching across a few years later after Peyton. He’d been part of a different team before replacing Peyton after he’d left.

Peyton had met Felix when he’d joined their team as their combat medic. Peyton had a lot of love and respect for him, and he was—just like every member of the team—an honorary member of the Sinclair clan.

“Sinclair, you’re late,” Aidan said loudly as he slung an arm around Peyton’s shoulders.

“I can’t be late; I called you.”

“Semantics don’t interest me,” Aidan said flippantly.

“More true than funny,” Felix said with a grin. He cupped Peyton’s neck and pulled him closer, pressing their foreheads together. “Missed you, Sinclair.”

Peyton breathed in his scent, that familiar antiseptic and fresh grass mixed with oil. It was equal parts Felix and the military,all rolled up in one package. Fucking hell. He missed it here too. This had been hishomefor six long fucking years.

“C’mon, we booked a spot for you,” Aidan said, steering him back toward the carpark. “You don’t want to know how many people I had to blow to get them to let a civilian use it.”

“Two?” Peyton guessed. He shared a fist bump with Felix.

“There’s no need to be smug.”

Felix took the backseat of the rover, while Peyton swung himself up into the driver’s seat. He let out a deep breath as he stared at the steering wheel, gears, and console. He ran his hands down the familiar leather. He and Felix had bogged one once and then spent six hours getting it out. By the time they’d finally gotten it out, they’d all been muddy, tired, and ready to murder. Someone had tried to make a joke, and Felix had thrown a spanner at them.

“Are we leaving, or do you need a moment with it?” Aidan asked. “It’s okay, we won’t judge.”

Peyton turned the keys, bringing the engine to life. “Fuck off.”

He didn’t need directions to get to the range they always used. He’d spent half his military career here. He had a favourite pit. He’d found out who he was in this place.

Too bad he hadn’t been who he’d thought he’d been. Not the hero, not like Will. He’d been the villain in his own story.

The outside firing range was empty except for Tyler, who was coming up out of a pit—Peyton’s pit. Second to the end. Creatures of habit, the both of them.

Peyton stared at the SR98 sniper rifle in Tyler’s hands, frozen in place. It had been over a year since he’d touched one. Like a drug, it had taken every part of him, and separating and leaving it behind had been fucking hard. His fingers itched to touch it, to run his fingertips over her beautiful metal, feel the weight of her. Almost eight kilos of pure perfection. His weapon of choice in the field was the Blaser Tactical 2, but Peyton had still spentquality time with the SR98. He didn’t have a favourite. They all just needed to be stroked differently.

“You okay?” Tyler asked quietly.

Peyton didn’t respond. He couldn’t lie to them and say he was okay when he was anything but. What was he doing here? Why did he think this was going to help him?

---