This Wasn't in the Floor Plan

"This is safe, right?" I muttered, eyeing the pistol in my gloved hands like it might suddenly sprout fangs and lunge at me.

"Perfectly safe," Riku said, the smug reassurance in his voice making me want to roll my eyes and melt into the floor at the same time. "Especially with me behind you."

Of course he was behind me. Physically. Romantically. Emotionally. Literally standing behind me now with both hands resting lightly on my hips as we faced the target lane together. His fingers curled just slightly, pressing into the sides of my waist through the light armor vest I was wearing. My breath hitched—again—not from fear, but from the proximity.

Helmet on. Earmuffs on. Heart? Fully unprotected.

"Alright, stance first," he said, his voice a low rumble directly beside my ear. I could feel the warmth of his breath brushing my neck, that damn cologne sneaking its way through my gear and into my bloodstream.

I adjusted my feet like he'd shown me, trying not to focus on the way his chest pressed into my back. Definitely not imagining how firm his body felt behind me. Definitely not noticing the subtle press of something that was... maybe slightly hard?

Oh my God. Focus, Camille!

"Focus," he said, chuckling. "Arms up. Elbows soft."

Easy for him to say when he wasn't the one trying to aim a deadly weapon with a whole six-foot-plus, ridiculously attractive, possibly-aroused boyfriend-shaped distraction plastered to his back. I lifted the gun, trying to keep my grip steady.

"Like this," he murmured. One hand slid over mine on the gun, adjusting my aim. The other drifted from my hip up to the small of my back. His body leaned in just a bit more. Close. So close.

I swallowed. Loudly. "I'm gonna shoot the wall instead of the target."

"Not if you keep breathing like that," he said, amused.

I swallowed hard, trying to concentrate on the target instead of the fact that I could feel the faintest hint of his... situation pressing against the back of my thigh.

"Just breathe. Relax your shoulders a little," he said, his voice grazing the shell of my ear. My stomach flipped.

I could feel every point of contact—his hands on my hips, his chest barely brushing my back, his breath against my neck like a secret. My whole body was buzzing with adrenaline and something distinctly not adrenaline.

"Alright," I managed, exhaling slowly. I squeezed the trigger.

The shot echoed in my ears. I flinched, but only slightly—then stared, wide-eyed, as the hole in the paper target lined up perfectly with the center.

"Wait, did I just hit—?"

"Bullseye." Riku's voice was equal parts shocked and smug. "You're kidding. First shot?"

I looked at him, grinning. "Beginner's luck?"

"No," he said, his eyes darkening just slightly as they met mine, a slow, appreciative heat kindling in their depths. "That was just... hot." He chuckled then, the sound vibrating against my back. "See, baby? Told you this would be fun. You gotta admit, your IRL Valorant experience right here is way better than rotting in your room clicking heads all day, right? Though," he added, his grin widening, "I'm starting to think all that TDM practice actually paid off for you."

And then—because apparently my survival instincts were completely shot, and my brain was high on gunpowder and Riku's proximity—I pulled out my phone. Still in full gear, still armed, still very much on the shooting range. I angled it back for a selfie.