“Now, I know most of you are familiar with these jets, or should be, at least. But just in case any of you are still coming to grips with the fact you actually made it here and will be competing for the highest honor you can get, I’m giving you an easy day.” Commander Levy paused, looked over the class. “Enjoy it. It’s the only one you’ll get.”
A murmur rang out amongst the class as the commander headed back to the desk at the front left of the room where he picked up a clipboard and pen. This was it; he was about to assign the partnerships for the duration of the competition.
“Right, listen up. I’ve got Utah as lead with Houdini as your wingman. Phantom? You’re in lead, and Alphabet, you’re flanking him. Gucci? You’ll take lead with Whiplash as your wingman. And from what I’ve heard, Whiplash, be thankful you won’t be sharing an actual cockpit…” A chorus of jeers rang out, and Whiplash turned her head to aim her eyes Gucci’s way.
“You ever throw up on me, lead or not, I’ll cut off your ball sac.”
As Commander Levy continued to call out the pairings, my heart pounded and I sat up a little straighter.
Everyone knew that who you were paired with could either make or break you when it came to these hops, and as the list got smaller and my name hadn’t yet been called, I gripped my pencil so hard that I was surprised it didn’t snap.
There were only a few names left besides mine, none of which would’ve been my first choice, and one that was certainly my last. But surely my luck wasn’t that bad—
“Solo? You’re going to take lead with Panther as your wingman.”
Okay, apparently it was.
“I want you all to work together. Remember, it’s imperative to come together as a team in this particular instance. Prove you can work well with others. Okay, let’s go over the brief.” The commander turned to pick up his binder, and as he flipped through the pages, I heard a chair shift behind me and a slight breeze on the back of my neck.
Don’t look. Don’t look, I ordered myself. But when that all-too-familiar voice whispered by my ear, “I’m all about coming together with my team. What about you?” my head whipped to the side and I aimed a cool glare at the cocky fucker.
Unbelievable. This was the last thing I needed. To be tied to an irresponsible, reckless hotshot who thought he could do whatever the hell he wanted and get away with it. Including, apparently, goading me.
But I wasn’t about to bite. I was there for one reason and one reason only, and no one was going to keep me from succeeding, especially not somebody who had a target on his back. With my face set to neutral, I held Solo’s stare, refusing to let him see how much he’d gotten under my skin, and when the corner of his mouth curved and he slumped back in his seat, I slowly turned back to face the front.
It was going to be a long ten weeks, if this shitshow of a first day was anything to go by.
6 Solo
TODAY WAS MY lucky day.
First, laying eyes in the locker room on gorgeous Grant from last night, and then getting paired up? As my Ma used to say, it was a sign.
If the frosty looks he’d been sending my way all morning were any indication, Grant—or Panther—wasn’t exactly thrilled about my presence here, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out why.
Panther was a classic daddy’s boy of the Navy, one of those bred-for-this-shit offspring of top-dog captains, and I’d wager ole Daddy-o wasn’t too pleased about his son’s sexual preference.
Too bad, I thought as we were dismissed from orientation and told to go gear up. As everyone filed out of the room and headed toward the bay, I dropped back into step with Gucci but kept my eyes locked on the gorgeous man marching down the hall in front of me.
Oh yeah, Panther was pissed.
“I would tell you to behave yourself up there today. But since you’ve already managed to get on the commander’s shitlist, I’m just gonna go with: are ready to get your ass kicked today?”
Somehow I managed to tear my eyes away from Panther’s spectacular ass long enough to glance at Gucci and see his arrogant smile.
“If I were you, I’d stick with your first train of thought, because there’s no way you’re gonna kick my ass up there. Never have and never will.”
Gucci scoffed. “You know, one of these days, someone better than you is going to come along.”
“Yeah? Well, it ain’t gonna be you, and it ain’t gonna be today.”
“Whatever you say.”
I followed Gucci inside the bay, and as we headed over to where our gear was stored, I spotted Panther a few feet away. “Plus, the only guy who actually stands a chance of beating me up there just got partnered with me.”
“Partnered?” Gucci let out a bark of laughter. “More like assigned to be your warden. He looked about as happy with that decision as someone sentenced to life without parole.”
I couldn’t argue with that, but I wasn’t about to let that deter me. Everyone knew that Grant “Panther” Hughes, son of Captain Franklin “Razor” Hughes, was one of the best pilots in the Navy. The one to beat.
The fact that I’d been paired up with him just increased my chances of winning. It also increased the time I’d be spending with him one on one. Something I was choosing to see as a bonus, and something he was clearly seeing as a fate worse than death.
“Nah, he’ll come around.” I picked up my G-suit and wrapped it around my waist, snapping it shut down my side. “I grow on people, you know that.”
“Grow on people? Like fungus, you mean?”
I flipped Gooch the bird, then went back to clipping the legs of my suit and zipping them up, making sure they were all nice and tight, each piece of our gear having been tailor-made for us. Next, I grabbed my survival vest off the hook and my eyes wandered over to where Panther was stepping into his, which was laid out on the floor.
My hand tightened around the torsion strap as he bent down to pull the gear up over his thighs. As he straightened to slip his arms inside the harness and maneuver it into place, I couldn’t help but let my eyes wander down his tight, built physique to where the vest lovingly cupped his crotch.
Daaaamn. Nothing made me hotter than a sexy guy in full flight gear, and I was really damn glad my uniform was flame-retardant, because Panther was scorching hot.
“Aww, hell.” At the sound of Gucci’s voice, I tore my eyes away from Panther to see my friend shaking his head. “You weren’t kidding earlier, were you? You really did hook up with him.”
Well, not exactly. But I couldn’t backtrack now. Instead, I stayed silent.
“This has disaster written all over it.”
“Stop worrying, would you? Shit. You’re worse than a mother hen. It’s going to be fine.” At least, that was what I kept telling myself as I stepped into my own vest and pulled it up my legs. But when I stood tall to pull my shoulder straps in place, I felt someone’s focus locked on me and looked up in time to see Panther watching me.
His lips were pulled tight and his intense eyes narrowed as he studied me from head to toe, and when they reached my face, his expression remained unaffected. Yeah, well, that wouldn’t do. So I reached down to readjust the cock he’d awakened with his little gear-up.