Dressed in borrowed outerwear of my dad’s, looking like he’s stepped straight off the cover ofHorse and Houndmagazine. There’s a faint smile on his mouth as he watches Eliza, and a streak of jealousy flits through me. Of course, he’s smiling at her, she looks equally cover-ready while I feel like a bog troll in the background.
Roman looks like he belongs here more than I do.
‘Pull,’ Eliza says.
The clay shoots into the air, a flash of orange against pale blue. Roman tracks it, smooth and steady, and fires.
Crack.
It explodes into a hail of shards.
Eliza smiles approvingly. ‘Good work, for an Englishman.’
Roman looks bloody delighted with himself. ‘This is very satisfying.’
‘Beginner’s luck,’ I mutter.
‘You’re just jealous because you suck at this,’ Eliza says. She’s not wrong. It’s a stupid way to spend a morning.
Roman and Eliza take turns, getting competitive. Fraser takes a few more shots before stepping aside and shoving me forward.
I take the gun with a sigh, set my stance, and try to convince myself if Roman can do it, I should be able to.
‘Pull.’
The clay flies.
I fire.
The clay zips through the air, utterly unaffected by me. Like all of the contract kills I’ve tried and failed at.
I try again.
And I fail again.
‘Relax,’ Eliza says. ‘You’re overthinking it, you need to get out of your head.’
As if it’s that easy to just not think.
I adjust my footing, shift my weight, and lift the gun. My boot slides in the mud as my centre of gravity shifts. I windmill my free hand while dropping the gun and nearly catch myself, but it’s too late. My other foot slips, and I go over like a pensioner on an ice rink.
Down with a squelch.
I land on my arse with a wet splat, a sound that echoes far too loudly in the open air. Cold seeps through my jeans, and mud coats everything.
There’s silence until Eliza bursts into laughter. ‘Oh, Maggie.’
Fraser’s mouth twitches despite his attempt to stay a sullen youth.
Roman has the decency to fight the grin that threatens his face. ‘Are you?—’
‘I’m fine,’ I snap, pushing myself up, heat flooding my face.
Eliza wipes at her eyes as her words emerge between giggles. ‘You’ve always had a knack for ending up with mud on your face.’
I force a weak smile, like I’m not dying inside. Roman might only be here because I’ve forced him to be, but he’s still my hot neighbour, and one person who hadn’t quite seen me at full patheticdom. Oh well.
Roman takes a step towards me. ‘Seriously, are you okay?’
