Still, as much as I try to steel myself, a tiny part of me—my traitorous, hormonal, very loud lady part—keeps whispering: One more night wouldn’t hurt, right?
I slam the clipboard down on the desk and shake my head. No. Absolutely not.
Ash Carr might be one hell of a pilot and too damn good-looking for his own good, but I’m not about to let him derail me.
This is my team, my career, and my reputation on the line.
And if I have to bury every inappropriate thought and sass him into submission to make it happen? So be it.
The briefing room buzzes with the usual morning energy—pilots filing in, gear being checked, and the hum of anticipation for another grueling day of training. I’m sitting at my desk, reviewing the day’s maneuvers, when the sound of the door opening catches my attention.
Ash.
He walks in like he owns the damn place, all confidence and swagger. I don’t even have to look up fully to feel the shift in the room—the way his presence commands attention without even trying.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see him glance at me, and before I can steel myself, he heads straight for his desk. Withoutmissing a beat, he drops into his chair, kicks his feet up on the edge of the desk, and shoots me a wink.
A wink.
I blink, momentarily thrown off. Is he seriously?—?
Before I can even process it, he turns his attention to Noah, launching into some calm conversation like he didn’t just walk in here trying to rattle me.
“Morning, River,” he says casually, like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
Noah chuckles, throwing a glance my way as if to say, “Is this guy for real?”
My jaw tightens, and I force myself to focus back on the clipboard in front of me, pretending like Ash Carr’s antics aren’t about to drive me up the wall.
Fine. He wants to play it cool? I can play that game too.
Clearing my throat, I set the clipboard down and stand, crossing my arms as I look at the two of them.
“Carr.” My voice is sharp enough to cut through their conversation. “Since you’re clearly feeling so relaxed, I trust you’re ready to lead today’s brief on formation adjustments?”
That wipes the smirk off his face—briefly. He straightens up, feet hitting the floor as he sits upright, and I catch the flicker of surprise in his eyes.
“Of course, Commander,” he says, recovering quickly, that damn grin creeping back into place. “I’d be happy to.”
Oh, this is going to be fun.
For a split second, her challenge catches me off guard. Lead the brief? Today? I didn’t expect that curveball, but this isn’t my first rodeo. I’ve handled high-pressure situations before—hell, I thrive on them.
I push my chair back, standing slowly and letting the smirk settle on my face. “Alright, Commander,” I say smoothly. “Let’s get to it.”
Walking up to the front of the room, I feel the weight of everyone’s eyes on me—veterans, rookies, and especially her. I’m not just a rookie pilot to these people; I have to prove I am more than the cocky new guy with a fast plane and faster comebacks.
I turn to face the room, posture relaxed but commanding. Picking up the clipboard she left on the podium, I scan it quickly, taking in the details of today’s training.
“Alright, team,” I begin, my tone confident. “Today’s focus is precision. The maneuvers we’re running require every single one of us to hit our marks perfectly. No room for error, no room for ego. This isn’t just about flying your plane—it’s about flying as one unit.”
The veterans nod, a few of them exchanging approving glances.
The day’s schedule is broken down, with explanations of formations and key adjustments to improve the group’s cohesion. I emphasize timing, spatial awareness, and the trust we need to have in one another. I throw in a couple of stories from my previous assignments—not too much, just enough to keep it engaging and show I know what I am talking about.
By the time I finish, there is a buzz of approval in the room. Even Knox gives me a slight nod, which I know is his version of a standing ovation.
I set the clipboard down, meeting Amelia’s eyes as I step back from the podium. Her expression is unreadable, but the faintest flicker of acknowledgment crosses her face.
