Page 26 of Catching Flynn

“Eyes downrange,” Zavier said.

“I am looking downrange.”

“You were looking at me.”

Flynn stared harder at the open field. “Briefly. For structural purposes.”

A clay launcher sat angled off to one side. Orange discs stacked beside it. They looked harmless, but so did bees until they targeted you.

“When you’re ready,” Zavier said, “call for it.”

For a second, he thought Zavier was talking about something else.

Before his mind sank deeper in carnal thoughts, Flynn said, “Pull.”

The launcher snapped.

An orange disc shot into the gray air so fast Flynn almost lost it. Panic hit first. Then instinct or luck or divine intervention by the patron saint of dumb twinks took over. He followed the blur, squeezed the trigger, and the shotgun kicked hard into his shoulder with a concussive boom that punched through his bones.

Out there, the clay exploded.

Flynn froze, staring at the burst of orange dust hanging in the air where the disc had been. Holy hell. He’d actually shot it.

His whole body surged with startled triumph.

“Oh my God!”

He lowered the shotgun and bounced on his feet, doing a ridiculous little happy dance. It felt incredible that he didn’t actually suck at this. Some crazy cheer ripped out of him, half laugh and half victorious screech.

“I shot it! Did you see that? I shot it!”

Pleasure flashed across Zavier’s face. “Yeah, kitten. You did.”

Flynn grinned so hard his face hurt. His shoulder ached and his hands were shaking, but he’d hit a tiny moving object!

“Well,” he said, drawing himself up. “Turns out I’m a natural.”

“Based on one shot?” Zavier’s blue eyes sparkle, from either disbelief or pride. Flynn would believe it was the second one.

“Based on one shot?” Zavier’s blue eyes sparkled, from either disbelief or pride. Flynn wanted to believe it was the second one.

That earned him a low and easy laugh. God. Zavier should’ve been banned from doing that. He could cause car accidents.

“One more.” Zavier winked. “Let’s see if you’re a natural or a lucky shot.”

If he winked like that again, Flynn just might faint. He knew Zavier was just trying to boost his confidence, but Flynn could pretend, briefly, that it was real.

Turning, Flynn positioned himself this time. He must’ve gotten it right because Zavier didn’t correct his stance.

You can do it again. It was just luck. Believe in your newfound Jedi powers.

“Pull.”

Flynn missed.

“You’re flinching,” Zavier said.

“I’m not flinching. I’m artistically anticipating.”