Page 141 of Falling for the Playboy Pilot

“Is he going to dock yours for crashing his helicopter?” Dalton shot back.

Pickle grinned. “Touche.”

I stuffed my face with all the appetizers I could get my hands on. Everything tasted amazing, even if my sense of smell was still a little off. Almost dying changed everything about me. I sipped my beer, ate my nachos, and listened to the three of them talk.

Laser needled Dalton about his hero complex and I had to agree.

“Alright, time for the important shit,” Laser said as she tapped her bottle against the table. “Janna’s earned a callsign. She’s not going anywhere and we can’t have her up there without a callsign. It’s bad luck.”

“That’s why we crashed,” Pickle said.

“Very funny,” I muttered.

But I was sitting up a little straighter.

Finally.

I had been waiting for a callsign since I showed up here. I wanted to be one of the cool kids.

In my head, I’d already picked it out. Night Witch. After the legendary Soviet pilots who’d flown biplanes in the dark, dropping bombs on Nazis with nothing but guts and gravity on their side. I’d flown through fire and smoke. If that didn’t earn me the name, nothing would.

And it was totally badass. Dalton knew the story. I didn’t know if Pickle and Laser did, but I would be happy to share it. I knew it was against tradition to come up with my own name, but I totally wanted to.

Instead, I sat quietly.

Laser grinned. “From now on, you’re Chopper.”

I blinked. “What?”

“Because you went down in a helicopter,” she said, like it was obvious. “And now you’re swearing them off for good. It’s perfect.”

Dalton snorted into his beer.

“That’s not perfect,” I protested. “That’s lazy.”

“Sorry, Chopper,” Laser said, not sorry at all. “It’s official. I’ve decided.”

“Dalton, come on, you guys can do better than that,” I whined.

Dalton finished his beer. “You really hate the callsign that much?”

I sighed. “It’s not Night Witch.”

“Night Witch?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Shut up.”

He laughed and kissed my cheek. “For what it’s worth, you will always be my night witch.”

I pouted. “I want to be the night witch.”

“But you’re such a cute Chopper,” Dalton said with a cocky grin.

“Chopper it is then,” I said, resigned to my fate. “At least it’s better than Crash.”

“Don’t give us ideas,” Pickle warned with a grin.

My phone buzzed against the table. And then everyone’s phones started going off.