Hudson saw the challenge in Shaw’s eyes and the slight curve of his lips—and reckless, immediate want hit him.
"I'll be there.”
Shaw nodded once and walked away.
The shelter had been impulse. The locker room, heat of the moment. But this? This was intentional. Hudson was choosing this. Choosing to meet Shaw. If he kept going, eventually he'd have to stop pretending he didn't know what it meant.
Future Hudson could deal with that—present Hudson was busy making terrible decisions.
Hudson pushedhis food around his plate, chewing out of habit, hardly registering flavor.
Storage room. Building C. 2300 hours.
He had five hours.
"You okay?" Reed asked, nudging him.
Hudson blinked. "What?"
"You've been staring at your tray for like ten minutes. You sick or something?"
"No. Just tired."
Reed shrugged. "Fair enough. This week's been brutal."
Hudson nodded and forced himself to take another bite.
Across the hall, Shaw sat with a group Hudson didn't know well, looking relaxed. Like he hadn't propositioned Hudson in the middle of a training exercise.
Show-off.
Hudson flicked his eyes away before Shaw could catch him staring.
Seconds trickled into minutes. Minutes crawled into hours, then seemed to stop altogether. Evening formation dragged on. Personal time offered no distraction. By the time lights out rolled around at 2200, Hudson lay in his bunk staring at the ceiling, too keyed-up to sleep. Around him, the familiar sounds of snoring filled the darkness.
At 2240, he got up.
He dressed quickly, and avoided the creaky spots in the floor as he went. A few guys shifted in their bunks but no one woke. He crept into the hallway, heart pounding.
Building C sat on the far side of the compound. Theoretically it was off-limits this late, but he had memorized the patrol’s rhythm. He slipped through its gaps, moving through shadows, keeping low.
The storage room was on the second floor. He took the stairs two at a time, trying not to think too hard about what he was doing.
He tried the door—unlocked—stepped inside and closed it behind him.
Moonlight slivered through a high window, cutting across the dark room. Shelves lined the walls, stocked with equipment Hudson couldn't identify and didn't care about. And in the middle of it all, leaning against a table like he'd been waiting?—
Shaw.
"You came.”
Hudson locked the door. "Did you think I wouldn't?"
"Wasn't sure."
They faced each other in the dark. Heat crept up Hudson’s neck. Every reason he'd told himself not to come here—gone. Every line he'd sworn he wouldn't cross—behind him now.
"So," Hudson said. "Here we are."
