“Wow.”
I rise to my knees because I’m too excited to stay still. “And, this is kind of a secret, but avionics ‘resets’ are real.”
“What’s an avionics reset?” Nat asks, making the mistake of sounding genuinely interested.
I launch into a spiel about the computers in the aircraft engine, clearing codes and how that only fixes the problem temporarily.
I’m thrilled to share, but I’m also socially aware enough to pay attention to Nat just in case he starts yawning or looking around.
But he doesn’t.
He listens toeverythingand asks thoughtful, nuanced questions.
This is unfamiliar territory. In my experience, men outside of the AMT field donotappreciate when their date knows more about ‘manly’ subjects than they do.
And they especially do not like when a woman rants about said topic for fifteen minutes.
Nat doesn’t pout or complain about my preoccupation, but I realize that I wouldn’t like if he was rambling about a subject I cared nothing about.
“Enough about planes.” I crawl back to his side as I’d been moving around the pickup bed to express my points. “We can talk about something else.”
Nat traces my face with a soft look, and I realize that he must like me a lot if he’s giving me those heart eyes after hearing my speech about the differences in commercial airplane combustion engines.
“I do have one more question while we’re on this topic.”
“If it’s about airplanes, I have answers.”
“It’s sort of about airplanes,” Nat says, rubbing my shoulder. “It’s clear as day how much you love planes. And Chris said you were promoted at your old job.”
A rock drops straight through the center of my throat.
“What happened?” Nat asks softly. “What made you leave airplanes behind?”
Chapter Forty-Nine
NATHAN
Riley’s jaw slackens and the glow that she had as she gushed about airplanes fades.
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” I assure her.
She hasn’t even told her family about it. I won’t be offended if she chooses to keep that card close to the chest.
“No,” Riley says, staring at the blankets beneath our feet. “I’ll tell you.”
“Riles—”
“I want to,” she says, her eyes meeting mine. In the somber, brown depths of her gaze, I sense her reaching deep for courage.
This topic is hard for her.
And I am unbelievably honored to be trusted with whatever she’s about to say.
“You know how I first got into planes, right?”
“I think,” I close my eyes briefly, straining to remember every time Chris mentioned Riley in the past, “it had something to do with your uncle who was in the military.”
“Uncle Will. He used to be a military hangar chief and when he retired, he continued to manage a hangar for a private company.”
