Page 26 of My All American Girl

I bit back a retort. His words were sinking in. Dean was right. Maybe it was time to start taking things more seriously, to prove not only to others but also to myself that I deserved to be here.

With a clenched jaw, I tried to step around him. “Don’t put hands on me again unless you want me to kick your ass,” I hissed. “I’m going to go back to my friends.”

“No, you aren’t,” he said and stepped in front of me.

“Forgive me for sounding like an entitled, bratty kid, but you are not the boss of me.”

“But I am.” He smirked. “I outrank you. Also, I’m one of the owners of this bar. You’re out. I don’t want your bullshit here. You and your friends need to leave. I don’t need you trashing my bar.”

I blinked. “What?”

“What part confused you, Thomas?” he barked, using my last name like he was actually my CO.

“This isn’t your bar.”

“I would show you the deed, except, oh yeah, I’m your superior, and I don’t need to do shit.”

I seethed, feeling the blood rush to my cheeks. Dean was enjoying this far too much. I glanced toward the bar, noticing the curious gazes of my friends who were undoubtedly waiting for my next move. With a deep breath to steady myself, I straightened my shoulders and locked eyes with Dean.

“Fine,” I said through gritted teeth. “We’re leaving.”

I was suddenly aware of just how strong he was, how tanned his skin was, how electric his eyes were, and how close we were. I could smell him. I wanted to tell him off, but my words got stuck in my throat.

My gaze dropped to his lips. They were fuller than a man should have. Very, very kissable. His jaw was too square. His shoulders too broad. The T-shirt he wore was stretched across his chest that was too muscular.

Dean leaned in closer, his gaze unwavering as if daring me to challenge him. My heart pounded in my chest. Adrenaline mixed with an unfamiliar thrill that coursed through me. His closeness was suffocating yet strangely exhilarating.

“You don’t give up easily, do you?” he murmured, his voice low and dangerously seductive.

Tension crackled between us, a magnetic pull that I couldn’t deny. I was ready to take him right then and there. He was looking at me like he wondered what I tasted like, so I suspected he might be thinking the same way.

Or maybe it was wishful thinking.

The moment broke when he took a step back. He had way more self-control than I did. “Get back to base,” he ordered. “The first week is no joke. You should be resting, not drinking and getting into fights with locals.”

I pulled my shoulders back, trying to regain some semblance of composure. As much as I wanted to continue this dangerous dance with Dean, I knew he was right. The first week was crucial, and jeopardizing my training over a petty argument was stupid.

With a curt nod, I turned on my heel and made my way to the car where Kylee was already waiting. She had fled there when things started flying inside the bar. My new friends fell into step behind me. The night air was cool against my skin, a stark contrast to the heated exchange.

As we drove back to base in silence, I couldn’t shake the memory of Dean’s intense gaze or the way my pulse had quickened at his proximity. It was as if a dormant part of me had been awakened by his presence, stirring up emotions I hadn’t realized were lying beneath the surface. As we approached the base, the familiar sight of the barracks and training grounds loomed ahead, reminding me of the challenges that awaited me in the coming days.

“Thanks for a good time,” one of the guys said.

I grinned. “Anytime.”

Kylee and I walked toward our dorm. She was quiet. I could feel her judgment. “You disappeared back there,” I said.

“I can’t afford to get in any trouble,” she said. “I have a clean record and I plan to keep it that way.”

“You don’t have to worry about me,” I assured her, feeling a twinge of guilt. Kylee was quiet. She wasn’t here to rock the boat. I had to respect that. Few people were like me, which was a good thing. She was a good airman and here I was getting into a spat at a bar with a commanding officer on the eve of our grueling training. “I’ll be more careful from now on.”

She gave me a small smile. “Just remember why we’re here. We have a chance to prove ourselves, to make a difference. Let’s not jeopardize that over some bull shit.”

“For the record, I didn’t start that fight,” I said with a laugh.

“Maybe not, but I have a feeling you’re the type that insists on finishing it,” she said with a shake of her head.

I chuckled at Kylee’s insight, knowing she had me pegged more accurately than I’d care to admit. As we reached the entrance to our dorm, I told myself I needed to be more careful. I was here for a reason, to prove myself and show that I belonged among the elite ranks of the Air Force.

I wasn’t in the academy where my biggest concern was getting stuck scrubbing a toilet with a toothbrush. This was my entire future. If I got kicked out of the pilot training program, I was done. I couldn’t see myself doing anything else in the Air Force. And I was committed for the next six years. I did not want to end up at a desk or being stuck on the sidelines while everyone else got to fly.

I prepared for bed, the events of the night swirling in my mind. As I lay on my bunk, staring up at the dark ceiling, I couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that had taken root within me. Kylee’s words echoed in my mind. I didn’t want to be known as a troublemaker. I sure as hell didn’t want to be known as the general’s daughter who got away with everything and skated by because of who my father was. Even worse, if I got cut from flight training, it would prove all the doubters right.

I closed my eyes and focused on the upcoming challenges. The intense training regimen, the demanding instructors, the looming evaluations. They all required my complete dedication and unwavering commitment. I couldn’t afford to let anything or anyone jeopardize my chances of success—including me with my temper.