Hard Beat

“Put your feet here,” I instruct as I put my hands on her shoulders and turn them square with the target on the opposite end of the lane where we stand. So much for ignoring the desire to touch her. I guess I didn’t think through this part of my plan very well; although I don’t want to touch the woman, I’m going to have to do just that in order to teach her to shoot. Trying to put a bit of distance between us so that I can find my equilibrium again, I use my foot to kick hers a little farther apart into a wider stance. She turns to look at me, but I point to where the target is. “That’s where you’re aiming. I’m going to stand behind you and help you hold the gun the first few times so the recoil doesn’t surprise you.”