Muffled curses filled the air, and I chuckled in devilish delight, taking way more pleasure in firing paintball after paintball at them than I ever thought I would. A touch on my shoulder startled me, and I spun back against the bunker wall to find Rhys crouched beside me, grinning. “You can stop now, Carlos Hathcock.”

“Comparing me to arguably the greatest sniper in history is a compliment, Morgan.”

An eyebrow rose behind his visor. “You got that reference?”

My answering smile was admittedly a little cocky. “I have a rounded catalogue of knowledge in this old noggin—” Rhys cut me off with a finger against my lips, and I tensed with a renewed awareness of him. He smelled earthy and spicy, his green eyes mesmerizing behind his visor.

In fact, I was so aware of him, it took me a second to realize he’d shut me up for a reason.

“They’re coming down the tree house. Bunker.” He grabbed my arm and guided me toward the small opening. Inside the bunker was mostly dark except for pools of light that spilled in from a window on either side of the doorway.

“Take a position.”

I followed his order and his movements, taking the window farthest away and mirroring how he positioned himself with his gun at the ready by the corner. It meant he was out of sight, but he had a clear shot.

Feeling the rush of another spike of adrenaline, my heart raced.

A boot appeared around the edge of the bunker, then a leg, then a torso—

I fired, red paint hitting Evan all over his chest.

“Fuck!”

I grinned evilly. That would serve him right for talking about my private life to Creepy Pete. Karma was a bitch.

Evan turned around and ripped off his facemask. He threw up his hands in despair. “That’s me out.”

“Well, don’t give my position away, you idiot,” a female voice, presumably belonging to his wife Annabelle, snapped from somewhere behind the side of the bunker.

“That’s a nice way to talk to your husband.”

“I told you we should’ve stayed in the tree house!”

So engrossed in their amusing argument, I hadn’t even noticed Rhys moving, let alone leaving the bunker, until he suddenly appeared at Evan’s side and fired his gun toward Annabelle’s voice.

“Jesus!” Annabelle yelled. “That stings.”

“Now you’re both out,” Rhys said, chuckling. “Feel like telling me where that flag is?”

Evan scowled. “Just because we’re out doesn’t mean we don’t want our team to win.”

“Ugh, I couldn’t care less.” Annabelle appeared in view, her mask off. “I’m heading back to the club for a beer.”

She’d barely walked out of sight when Evan yelled, “Fuck!”

Swiveling my head back to him and Rhys, I watched Evan clutch his knee.

“That’s against the rules.” Evan gritted his teeth, his face red. “What the hell was that?”