It was way too much fun watching him try to charm me, completely oblivious to who I was. That cocky smile, the way his hazel eyes crinkled at the corners when he thought he was being clever… It was almost enough to make me forget who I am and why I can’t let myself fall for that kind of thing.
Almost.
I swirl my beer absentmindedly, my gaze drifting before I can stop it—right back to him. He is talking with Knox, his face half lit by the dim bar lights, and his posture relaxed in that easy way that screams confidence. God, he is gorgeous. Broad shoulders, strong jawline, and that ever-present spark of mischief in his eyes.
And he has no clue, or so I thought.
Ash Carr. I knew who he was the second he walked up to me, all swagger and charm, a true flyboy. The rookie with thestellar reputation, the one who’s been making waves before he even set foot on the Angels’ team. I’ve read his file. Hell, I received a briefing on him a few hours ago. His father, Jasper, was a member of the Angels before moving on to civilian life and opening a physical therapy practice in North Carolina over ten years ago.
But for one moment, when he was standing there trying to flirt with me like I was just some random girl at a bar, it felt… normal. Like I wasn’t Commander Maddox, the woman tasked with making sure pilots like him live up to their potential.
I take another sip of my beer, forcing myself to look away as Knox laughs at something Ash just said. Ash shoots him a look, shaking his head with a wry smile, and I feel my stomach flip. Huh, that’s different. It has been a while since I have had that type of reaction.
Get it together, Maddox.
He is a rookie. My rookie. And whatever chemistry sparked in those few minutes at the dartboard, that’s all it can ever be—a spark. Nothing more.
But damn, it’s hard not to glance back.
The smellof fresh coffee and jet fuel hangs in the air—it doesn’t get better than this. I sip from my travel mug as I walk down the hallway toward the briefing room, my boots echoing against the tiled floor. The base is already alive with activity, mechanics checking planes and crews prepping for the day ahead. And me? I am about to meet the group of rookies and veterans I’ll be whipping into shape for the season.
As I push the door open, the hum of conversation hits me. I see pilots scattered around the room—some leaning against walls, others sitting in chairs, all exhibiting the confident energy of Angels.
And right near the front is Knox, one of my best friends, his simple grin breaking across his face the second he sees me.
“Commander Maddox,” he says, rising from his perch on the edge of the table. “You’re late.”
“Late?” I raise an eyebrow, holding up my mug. “I'm on my third cup of coffee. I'm right on time, Knox.”
He laughs, coming over to give me a quick hug. “Good to see you, Amelia. It’s been too long.”
“Yeah, well,” I say, pulling back with a smile, “someone got themselves promoted to team captain and left me to babysit the cadets.”
“Hey, you’re the one who keeps saying you love a challenge.”
“True,” I admit, glancing around the room. There are a few faces I recognize—veterans from past seasons—but plenty of new ones too… including him.
With his chair tilted on two legs and arms crossed, Ash Carr sits near the back, talking to the guy next to him. He hasn’t noticed me yet, too caught up in whatever conversation he is having, but I don’t miss the way his confidence practically radiates off him.
Knox must have caught me looking because he leans in slightly, his voice low. “Does he realize that you're the one who’s gonna make him a better pilot?”
“Not a clue,” I say, taking another sip of coffee.
Knox chuckles, shaking his head. “You really let him flirt with you last night?”
I shrug, keeping my expression neutral. “What can I say? It was entertaining.”
“Well, he’s in for one hell of a wake-up call.” Knox’s grin turns downright mischievous.
“Good, flyboy could use a wake-up call,” I say, stepping forward. Conversations quiet as people notice me, heads turning and chairs straightening.
All eyes are on me as I step up to the podium, setting my coffee mug down with a soft clink. I look over the pilots—veterans who have performed this routine countless times, rookies whose nervousness is barely hidden behind cocky grins, and some who fall somewhere in between.
“Good morning,” I start, my voice steady but firm. “For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Commander Amelia Maddox, call sign ‘Phoenix.’ I’ll be your lead instructor for this season.”
I catch the flicker of recognition on a few faces, especially the rookies, as they put two and two together. But one face stands out—Ash Carr. His chair hits the floor with an audible thud as he straightens up, eyes widening slightly.
Gotcha.
