God, this was insane. I’d been studying my whole life to get where I was right now. This was what I’d always wanted. I was the one to beat. I had just out-flown my father, for fuck’s sake. And yet a pair of beautiful brown eyes and a smart-ass mouth had managed to eclipse all of that.
“Grant?”
I shoved aside those thoughts and tried to remember where I’d been going with this. “Sorry. I’m just all up in my head, that’s all.”
“Don’t apologize. You’ve had a pretty intense time of it since you got here.” Solo got to his feet, my hand still in his, and then leaned against the table beside me. “Not only have you had to compete against badass pilots like myself, you’ve had all of the instructors watching you like a hawk because of your father. Not to mention your actual father coming here to check up and fly against you. Shit. And as if that wasn’t enough, add in getting ejected at a few thousand feet and plummeting to the earth, and yeah, I’m pretty sure I’d be all up in my head too.”
I gave a halfhearted smile and nodded. “Yeah, I guess it’s just made me think a lot lately.”
“About?”
“Just things. Other options, I guess. I’ve always loved flying, but…”
Solo said nothing as I sat there trying to organize my thoughts, and it didn't escape my notice the way he was slowly stroking his thumb over the back of my hand. It was calming, soothing, and I wasn’t even sure he knew he was doing it.
“I’m not sure I love this anymore.”
The thumb on my hand stopped, and Solo took my chin in hand and raised my face to his.
“You mean flying jets.”
“Yes. Flying fighter jets.”
Solo’s eyes narrowed. “How long have you felt this way?”
I shrugged, never having felt more vulnerable in my life. This was the first time I’d ever voiced this thought out loud, and I just hoped I wouldn’t regret it. “Most of my life, really. I love planes, I love being up in the air, but with my father being who is, this seemed like the only option.”
“That’s not true.”
“Have you met my father?”
“Yes, actually, a couple of times. Once in my boxer briefs, remember?”
That made me laugh.
“Look, you’ve had a big day, and I’m sure there are a lot of emotions going on with you right now. But there’s no rule out there saying just because your father does something you have to too. If that were the case, I’d be whipping up carnitas at my father’s old restaurant. Can you really see that?”
No, no I could not. I smiled at him, and when he returned it, my heart beat a little faster. There was that rush, that feeling I’d only every attributed to flying in the past. But here it was in the quiet of my room as I stared at Solo’s gorgeous face.
“Youcan do anything you want.” Solo took my face in both hands and kissed my lips, and as I savored the taste, reveled in his nearness, I wondered how I would ever be able to go back to a time where he wasn’t close by.
“I wish it were that easy,” I said. “I’m just so tired of playing by everyone else’s rules. My father’s, the instructors’, the Navy’s. It feels like I’ve been toeing the line my entire life, and even as an adult I’m still following orders. Like this ball we’re all supposed to go to.”
When Solo gave a curt nod, I grimaced.
“I fucking hate that I can’t take you. But my father is going to be there, and, well—”
“I get it. Trust me,” he said, straightening to his full height. “That’s a whole other can of worms. But we’re talking about your career, Grant. Flying. And if you don’t want to do this anymore, then you don’t have to. That’s your decision, and you’re the only one who can make it.”
I slowly pushed back from the table and got to my feet, Solo’s words playing on repeat in my head. As I stood there toe to toe with the man I’d first considered my competition, it was mind-blowing to reconcile him now as my lifeline.
Solo had been there through one of the most traumatic moments of my life, and as I stood there now, open and vulnerable, I realized he was there through one of my most monumental—self-discovery.
Most people came to NAFTA to prove they were the best in the world at a job only a handful of people could do. The problem was, now that I knew, I no longer wanted it.
32Solo
AS I SEARCHED Panther’s eyes, I could see the indecision swirling there and wished like hell I knew what to say, but I was too surprised to come up with much. Maybe I should’ve seen the writing on the wall, what with the way Panther had people-pleased his way through life—especially when it came to his father. I knew firsthand how something traumatic had a way of making you one-eighty and think about what you really wanted. Or, in my case, it made you put up walls no one could blast through while proving to everyone you gave no fucks.
