In a future where outposts swelter beneath a nuclear sun and run-gunners patrol dusty wastelands to protect against winged creatures known as devlars, Trin is the mech at the waystation in Arens. He has a thing for the gunners: rough men with strong hands and hard bodies, who roll through his garage like the hot desert wind. Gerrick’s the best gunner around, a quick draw with a deadly aim and a penchant for sharing his pallet with young men. He has a roving eye and roaming hands, and has left a string of broken hearts in his wake. Having heard the tales of Gerrick's bravery and seen the man in action for himself, Trin has fallen in love with the man he believes Gerrick to be, and he’s sure he can change the gunner’s mind if given the chance. Gerrick’s all he wants out of this blasted world, and he tells anyone who will listen. Then Gerrick rides through Arens. He’s heard the rumors of what Trin will do for a gunner who only mentions his name. What he wants to know is, what will Trin do for him?

Trin

Trying hard not to smirk, Trin replies loftily, “He said to keep you out of my room until he leaves. If that doesn’t say he’s sleeping there—”


“It doesn’t,” Aissa points out. “Until he leaves what, the waystation? Arens?” With arched brows, she adds, “You?”


She tries a different approach. “All I’m saying, Trini, is he probably has a boy in every outpost between here and the border, and every single one of them thinks he’s the only one. I know you’ve been waiting a long time for this but I don’t want you blowing it all out of proportion. Once you fix his truck, he’s gone.”


Trin feels that pout tug at his lips again and he covers his mouth with one hand so Aissa won’t see the frown. “I know he has to move on but you’re wrong, Aissa. Last night wasn’t just another fuck, I’m telling you.” She gives him a look that says he’s fooling himself but he shakes his head, adamant. “It wasn’t.”


“Alright,” she concedes. She still sounds unconvinced.


Chapter 11