Separation Anxiety (E.C. #2)

Chapter 1 - Lesson's in Guns & Life

JEREMY HUNT

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“I don’t understand why we have to do this?” and I let out a long drawn out sigh, as I watch Alex meticulously laying out a few guns on the table. Really?

Noticing that she is not choosing to acknowledge me I peer up towards the beating down Arizona sunshine noting even though it is the beginning of October it has got to be hitting the high 90’s as far as temperature.

As I let my eyes fall back towards Alex, taking a moment to take her in wearing her tight maroon tank top with short jean shorts, showing off her long slender legs. Back in Boston she never has an excuse to wear such things. It makes me miss the far off island of Bora-Bora, and her string bikinis.

There are so many thing’s I’d rather be doing than participating in a gun lesson…

Catching me staring, she turns around holding a hand gun and grinning devilishly. 

“Are you ever going to tire of just staring at me?”

I nod my head ‘no’ what a silly question. 

I meander over to her, and place my hand on her shoulder, brushing her hair off her neck and place a kiss under her ear, thinking even her sweat smells sweet.

“Can’t we just go back inside?” I whine.

She snorts, and stifles a giggle. “You promised.” Her tone is stern, but she pouts as she looks up at me like a young girl who was promised a new doll, or a trip to the fair. It’s adorable, really.

I can’t help but laugh and kiss her again, “Ya know, you are the only person I would let get away with such demands.”

“I’m aware. Now come here.”

I roll my eyes and take a stand next to her.

She continues to grin and I can tell she is already enjoying this. I decide to let her have her fun.

She turns to face me, letting her eyes meet mine, and holds the hand gun up for me to see, “Are you ready? —Scratch that,”  She squints her eyes, assuming I would mostly fight the question and continues,  “Let’s just begin. First thing’s first. You always treat any firearm as if it were loaded, even if you think it isn’t. It’s the most important safety precaution, and I can tell you right now that this gun is very much loaded, okay?” and she wiggles the deadly object for emphasis.

I’d trust her with my life, but can I let a girl teach me how to shoot?

—Don’t be so sexist— 

Her tone get’s me to pay close attention and I nod my understanding, knowing that she knows a lot more than I give her credit for, obviously.

She continues, “Also, you, of course, want the gun pointed in the safest direction. Meaning, away from harms way. And before I hand this off to you the next most important tip is: Always keep your trigger finger off the trigger and outside of the trigger guard until you have made a conscious decision to shoot. Okay, did you get all that? Recap the safety rules for me.” She bobs on her heels as if excited for the next step in the lesson, but has a stern look to her.

I raise a brow at her disciplinary tone but know it is most likely for my own good due to my lack of experience, and distaste for the damn thing. I am bound to make a mistake. An Unfortunate truth that I will not admit aloud.

Taking a deep breath and nodding my way through it I respond, “Always treat the gun like its loaded, point it in a safe direction, and don’t put my finger on the trigger until I am sure of the shot.”