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“I don’t give a shit what Utah thinks of me.”
“Really?”
I nodded. “Really.”
“Well, I don’t fucking like it.”
“Hmm, I know.” I cocked my head and took in the flush that still lingered on his cheeks. When I lowered my eyes to his mouth, Panther licked his lips. “That’s hot as hell.”
“What is?”
“The way you got all protective. Utah’s lucky I want to watch you kick his ass in the sky today, otherwise I might’ve settled for watching you kick it in here.”
Panther shoved his hands into his pockets and scowled. “I don’t like people talking about you like that. Talking about us.”
Something about the tone of Panther’s voice sent a frisson of excitement racing through me. It was a thrill knowing that this smart, confident badass thought I was worth fighting for. But at the same time, I wasn’t about to let him throw away his chance of being number one in the Elite because of some dipshit like Utah.
We’d earned our places at the top of that damn leaderboard, and there would be no question about it when this was all said and done.
“I know,” I said. “But you can’t let him get to you. Not about me, and not about us. That’s what he wants. To psych you out. It’s the only way in hell he has a chance of climbing his way up from the fucking bottom.”
Panther took in a deep breath and let it out. “You’re right. I know you’re right. I don’t know why I let him get to me like that.”
Wanting to ease the tension as much as I could, I placed my hands on Panther’s chest and grinned. “Because you have a crush on me.”
Panther’s lips twitched, but just as I suspected, it worked. “A crush? What am I, a schoolgirl?”
I glanced around the empty locker room and then smoothed a hand below his belt to cop a quick feel of his growing hard-on. Panther groaned and grabbed my arms, and I placed my lips to his jaw and said, “Definitely not a girl…”
“Jesus, Solo. You gotta stop. We have to get changed and outside before Levy comes looking for us.”
“You’re right,” I said, and reluctantly let him go. “But just know that the whole time I’m up there flying today, I’ll be thinking about blindfolds and the fact that you think I’d look really fucking good in one.”
His muttered curse as I walked out the locker room made me laugh. I was well aware that the rush I felt had nothing to do with suiting up and getting in the cockpit, and everything to do with the anticipation of being alone again with Panther.
When the hell had that happened?
7 Panther
“SORRY, LADIES AND gentlemen, but you won’t be flying today.”
We’d barely sat down for the first class of the day when Commander Levy dropped that bomb on us. Yesterday had been a grueling fourteen hours of physical and mental fitness tests, and I knew I wasn’t the only one who had been looking forward to getting up in the air.
A chorus of groans confirmed my thoughts, but before I could get too settled in for a day in the classroom, Commander Levy snapped his fingers.
“All right, on your feet. Leave your belongings here.”
As we all stood up, I could see the same curiosity written on everyone’s faces.
Commander Levy led the way, all of us single-filing it out of the room after him. Behind me, Houdini whispered, “What do you think is goin’ on?”
“Public flogging?” Solo suggested. “Maybe Utah’s finally getting what’s coming to him.”
I laughed as we pushed through the doors leading to the airfield, half wishing that were the case, but once I saw what was waiting for us, I stopped dead in my tracks.
“Holy shit.”
“What?” Solo asked, but as he came to a stop beside me, he let out a whoop. “What are the Blue Angels doing here?”
I stared out at the navy and gold F/A-18 jets parked along the runway and wondered the same thing. The Blue Angels were the definitive Navy pilots, the ones who were handpicked to represent the fleet and showcase what we could do. It was a huge honor to be selected, and it was one thing my father never did do. One of the only things, I thought.
We followed Commander Levy to the hangar, where the pilots stood stock-still, hands behind their backs and dressed in their blue flight suits. There was something about seeing them that always sent a thrill through me. It’d been that way since I was a boy and my father had taken me to their first show. The insane aerobatics, combined with all that speed, had been one of the things that made me want to pilot a fighter jet in the first place.
Commander Levy stopped in front of the man at the far end of the lineup, the “boss.” He was the commanding officer of the Blue Angels and the one who flew the number one jet. They greeted one another with a clipped nod before turning back to face us, and we moved to form a similar lineup opposite the Angels.
