Hi friends!
So I decided that one day (If I ever make money with my writing,) I'm going to buy a desk and a chair. This writing on my bed is for the birds! LOL
Anyway, I was working all week on my newest Ice Era Chronicle so I couldn't spend as much time on this book as I wanted. But... in the back of my mind, I knew Brice and Clay hadn't come yet, so I felt compelled to get them to a finish.
For those of you who are waiting for my next Alien Love story, I also spent some time on that outline! So I'm typing my fingers to the bone and loving it.
Anyway, thank you so much for reading and commenting and clicking a heart on the bottom of my story... To all of you with me, you people are so awesome! It lifts my spirits when I log in and see your support.
Be Well, my friends,
Cheers,
~M. From C.M. Moore
***
*Chapter 14*
(Brice)
What the hell was Ponce doing at his door? It wasn't late, it was only a couple of hours after dinner chow, but still, Brice didn't expect the trainer. He didn't expect anyone.
Knotting his towel, Brice strode to the entrance of his apartment. He realized what a fucked-up plan it was to have sex with a recruit, but stubbornly, he ignored the voice saying he should be the model head trainer. He'd done all the right things for years, and all he had to show for his dedication was one foot, an empty bed, and a lonely life. He was keeping Claymore Wicks... at least until the recruit graduated.
As he passed the weapons, he remembered that the ammunition specialist from the armorment unit was supposed to pick up the crate before dinner chow. He never showed. Wiping the lube off his hand, Brice scowled. He needed to hang a do not disturbed sign on his door. If he was going to disregard the rules and jeopardize his job, at least he could do it in peace.
"What?" Brice swung the door wide enough to dip his head into the hall. "Talk fast."
The words were so abrupt and forceful that Ponce took a hasty step back.
"Nancy said she told you that I was sleeping with a recruit." Ponce took a deep breath. "And first I want to say..." Ponce cleared his throat.
"Stop right there." Brice shook his head. "I'm pretending that I have no idea who you and Nancy and the Deans are doing." Brice jerked his head toward the elevators. "About face and march, Ponce."
"Really?" Ponce's expression scrunched into confusion. "You don't want to talk to me? No lecture? No telling me that I'm throwing away my career?"
"No. Take your career and leave." Brice jerked his head again and then spotted Ammunition Specialist Copeland getting off the elevator. For Pete-sakes. Can't a guy catch a break?
"Brice," Copeland called as he jogged toward Brice and Ponce. "I'm here."
"Of course, you are. I mean, why wouldn't you be here right now?" Brice stepped out into the hall and closed his door. "Now isn't a good time."
"That's ah quite the outfit to be sorting weapons andβ" Ponce's eyes scanned him wearing nothing but a towel.
"Shut your face hole." Brice glared at the trainer.
"I know I'm late, but I can explain." Copeland was a short chubby young man. He was huffing and puffing by the time he reached Brice's side. "I thought Essie had the key to the new weapon's cage where I have to put those rifles you're keeping." Copeland nodded at Ponce for a greeting. He didn't seem to note Brice's attire. "And then he didn't have the key. Someone in the motor pool supposedly had it. So, I didn't come and see you. Instead, I found Nancy. She said New-Dean signed it out, but he was in a meeting." The specialist waved his H.S.P.C. jacket exposing his pit-stains on his gray shirt.
"You lost the key?" Ponce asked.
"I didn't have it to start with. It's a fucking shit show."
Brice bit his tongue from cursing. This situation was what living in headquarters was like all the time. The last of his hardon deflated. He supposed that if he ever needed a boner killer it would be someone in HQ telling him why they couldn't find a person, a key, or whatever excuse on why they couldn't get the job done.
"Are you with someone?" A slow grin spread across Ponce's lips. "Are you on a date? Hanna from Custodial Services?"
"That's none of your business." Brice crossed his arms over his chest.
"And then I found New-Dean after the meeting. Now he said he didn't have the key becauseβ"
"Copeland," Brice bit out. "We will remove the weapons tomorrow. I'll schedule it, and I'll get the key myself. Go-the-fuck-away."
"But..." Copeland began.
"You are on a date." Ponce grinned.
"Whoever is still standing at my door in the next ten seconds will be sweeping out storage containers for two weeks." Brice prayed Clay wasn't going to leave because of this interruption. What if he was getting dressed right now? On the one hand, the man should get out of Brice's place, but on the other hand, Brice was desperate for Wicks. At this point, he might even beg for sex.
"I know nothing." Ponce started trotting toward the elevators.