The shooting range sat forty minutes outside the city buried behind trees and enough concrete barriers to survive minor warfare.

Which, according to Kane, made it “emotionally perfect for the boss.”

Rain had finally stopped for the first time in days.

Cold morning light spilled across the empty outdoor lanes while Evie stood at the firing booth wearing oversized protective headphones and visible distrust.

Cassian loaded ammunition into a magazine beside her with practiced movements.

Evie watched his hands briefly.

Then the gun.

Then back to his hands.

“…I just wanna say this feels like a terrible personality development arc for me.”

Cassian slid the magazine into place.

“You spend time around mercenaries.”

“Yeah, but I thought we were aiming for emotional growth. Not firearms.”

Dominic leaned against the back table sipping coffee.

“You can have both.”

Sofia looked up from her phone.

“No. You absolutely cannot.”

Cassian handed Evie the pistol grip first instead of the barrel.

Automatic safety habit.

Evie noticed.

Unfortunately for him.

“You do that every time.”

Cassian checked the chamber.

“What.”

“The careful thing.”

His attention stayed on the weapon.

“You point guns away from me before anyone else.”

Dominic quietly took one step farther away from the conversation.

Smart.

Cassian adjusted the target distance without answering.

Paper silhouette rolled farther downrange.

Evie accepted the pistol carefully.

Still awkward.

Still heavier than expected.

“You’ve fired before?” Cassian asked.

“At bottles.”

“With what.”

Evie looked proud of herself.

“Questionable judgment.”

Cassian exhaled slowly through his nose.

Then stepped behind her.

Close enough now that warmth pressed faintly through the back of her jacket.

Evie stopped breathing normally immediately.

Great.

Fantastic timing.

Cassian reached past her for the grip.

“One hand here.”

His voice stayed calm.

Focused.

Professional.

Which somehow made it worse.

Evie adjusted her fingers carefully against the frame.

Cassian’s hand settled lightly over hers correcting the angle.

Warm skin.

Steady pressure.

Evie stared very hard at the target downrange.

“Okay,” she said quietly. “This feels illegal somehow.”

Dominic immediately turned away.

“I’m not emotionally equipped for this before noon.”

“Shut up, Dominic,” both of them said at the same time.

Silence.

Then Kane whispered from behind the equipment table:

“Oh my God.”

Cassian ignored all of them.

His attention stayed fixed on Evie’s stance.

“Relax your shoulders.”

“You are standing directly behind me.”

“Yes.”

“That information is not helping.”

Cassian adjusted her elbow slightly.

Evie nearly forgot how knees worked.

The morning air smelled like gunpowder and wet concrete while distant birds scattered somewhere beyond the trees.

Cassian leaned closer beside her shoulder.

“Focus on your breathing.”

“That also sounds illegal.”

His mouth moved slightly near her ear.

Almost a smile.

Gone quickly.

Evie caught it anyway.

Interesting.

Cassian guided the pistol higher.

“Front sight first. Don’t anticipate recoil.”

Evie looked downrange.

Then immediately looked sideways at him instead.

Huge tactical mistake.

Cassian noticed instantly.

“So that’s not focusing.”

“You smell like cedarwood soap again.”

Behind them, Kane made a strangled noise into his coffee cup.

Cassian took the pistol gently from her hands before she accidentally shot the ceiling out of flirtation-induced incompetence.

“You’re distracted.”

“You’re distracting.”

Dominic physically walked farther down the range.

“Guys. Please. Some of us came here with emotional vulnerabilities.”

Cassian reset the target distance.

Evie watched him reload calmly beneath the cold morning light.

Rolled sleeves.

Dark Henley.

Old scars crossing both hands.

Not tactical gear today.

Somehow more dangerous.

Cassian handed the pistol back again.

“This time, actually shoot.”

Evie lifted the weapon.

Took aim.

Fired.

The recoil snapped harder than expected and the shot landed nowhere near the paper silhouette.

Kane looked through binoculars.

“…You hit a traffic cone.”

“There shouldn’t BE a traffic cone there.”

Cassian stepped behind her again.

Closer this time.

His hand settled against her waist automatically while repositioning her stance.

Evie froze completely.

Not dramatic.

Just enough that Cassian noticed immediately.

His hand stayed there a second longer than necessary.

Then another.

The range quieted strangely around them.

Even Dominic stopped talking.

Cassian adjusted her grip slowly with his other hand still resting lightly against her waist through the jacket fabric.

“You lean right before firing.”

Evie swallowed once.

“You are touching me a lot for educational purposes.”

Cassian looked down at her briefly.

“You complain every time I stop.”

That shut her up.

Kane nearly dropped his coffee.

Dominic whispered:

“Holy shit.”

Evie stared forward again before her brain fully melted.

“Okay,” she muttered. “Wow. Didn’t know we were doing psychological warfare this morning.”

Cassian’s thumb shifted slightly against the inside of her wrist correcting the angle again.

Small movement.

Still enough to send heat straight up her spine.

“Breathe,” he said quietly.

Evie fired again.

This shot hit the outer edge of the target.

Dominic lifted both hands immediately.

“SHE LIVES.”

Evie lowered the pistol triumphantly.

“Oh my God.”

Cassian looked toward the target.

Then down at her.

“There you go.”

The approval landed harder than expected.

Annoying.

Very annoying.

Evie smiled despite herself.

Cassian’s hand still rested lightly over hers around the grip.

Neither of them moved first.

Morning wind drifted cold across the range carrying the smell of rain-soaked dirt and gunpowder between the lanes.

Kane slowly lowered the binoculars.

“…They’re gonna make out next to live ammunition someday.”

Sofia finally looked up from her phone.

“I’m charging extra when that happens.”

Cassian removed his hand eventually.

Too late now.

Evie already noticed the absence immediately.