“How long until it gets here?”
“Too fucking long,” I grumbled, then added, “Twenty minutes.”
“So what are we gonna do till then?”
I opened an eye and looked his way. “I’m gonna lie here and will my dick to behave itself. I don’t know about you.”
Panther let out a rumbling laugh and shut his eyes. “I’m gonna do the same. Seeing you all tortured has got me all worked up.”
“Glad to see my suffering isn’t in vain.”
“Trust me, I’ll make it up to you after.”
I draped my arm across my eyes and muttered, “You fucking better.”
“Count on it.”
31Panther
HALF A PIZZA later, and the two of us had most definitely satisfied one hunger together. Mo’s Pizza was delicious, cheesy goodness, and if you added in the couple of beers we’d washed it down with, the two of us were happy campers.
Today had been unreal. One for the books, that was for sure. There’d been so many highs that it was difficult to even process all the emotions that went with them. There was the hop, beating my father—the top-scoring pilot in NAFTA’s program—to right here, sharing a meal with Solo and shooting the shit.
I felt pretty amazing, the best I had in years. But as I looked at the three things that had made up the most kickass day of my life, I realized the one thing that had always made me the happiest—flying—was now coming in last on the leaderboard. In fact, it hardly made a blip on the radar, and only did because of what it had helped me achieve and who I got to impress along the way. The man sitting beside me.
Sharing that win, that incredible moment with Solo had been the most fulfilling part of taking home the victory today, and how had that happened?
I glanced over the table to see him taking a swig of his beer, and wondered how he had gone from a quick fuck to someone who made me feel so…complete. And I was feeling complete for the first time in my entire life.
Sure, the hop today had been exhilarating, and yes, beating my father was a moment I would never forget. But where flying used to be the biggest rush, the most exciting part of my day, I now found that something else was calling to me, something stronger than the need for speed.
“Hey?” I said as I tossed a piece of crust down into the box. I was stuffed. “Can I ask you something?”
“I mean, maybe give me a second to digest before you get too demanding, but sure.”
I leaned back in my chair and eyed him. “I’m being serious.”
“So was I.”
I reached for the empty beer bottle on the table and began to play with the label, wondering how Solo would take my next question. “Have you ever thought about doing something else with your life?”
“Something else? Other than flying?” Solo reached for his beer and took a swig.
“Yeah.” I nodded. “Or, you know, other than flying fighter jets.”
A frown creased his forehead as he lowered the bottle to the table. “Honestly? No. I mean, I’d rather not have to kill anyone in my line of work, but I can’t imagine not being in the air. It’s in my blood. You know that, you're the same.”
As I peeled half the label off my bottle, Solo leaned across the table and put his hand over mine, and when I looked up at him, he said, “Right?”
I blinked at him, once, twice, and slowly nodded.
“Okay, well, that didn’t seem all that convincing.”
I chuckled, but the sound was strained, even to my own ears. “I… Shit, I don’t know. I guess I’m just having a moment.”
Solo’s fingers tightened around mine. “Why don’t you try that again? But this time, be honest.”
I took in a shaky breath and wondered how smart it was to admit to your competition that the love you once had for flying had been replaced. I also wondered how smart it was to admit it had been replaced with a love for the one sitting in front of me.
