I snort and shake my head before grabbing my phone and immediately pulling up Nesta’s contact. If anyone is going to appreciate this mess, it’s her.
Me: Girl. You’re not gonna believe what just happened.
Three dots appear instantly.
Nesta: You didn’t crash the plane, right?
Me: No! Worse. I accidentally outed me and Ash to the guys.
Not even two seconds pass before her response pops up.
Nesta: WHAT?! HOW?!
I bite my lip, trying not to laugh as I text back.
Me: I answered the door at his place… in his shirt… and Knox, Nathan, and Noah were there. Waiting. Full deer-in-headlights moment.
Nesta: STOP IT. Were they shocked?
Me: Nathan almost passed out. Noah looked like he wanted to high-five Ash. And Knox? I think he’s still laughing about the whole thing.
Nesta: I’m SCREAMING. I knew this secret relationship thing wouldn’t last forever.
Me: Yeah, well, it died a very dramatic death this morning. Thanks to my complete inability to look through the peephole first.
Nesta sends about six crying-laughing emojis before following up.
Nesta: So… how do you feel? Relieved? Horrified? Ready to elope?
I smile, my chest warming despite the embarrassment still lingering.
Me: Honestly? Kinda relieved. But I’m never answering his door again.
Nesta: Liar. You’ll do it again next week. Probably in less clothing.
I groan, but I’m grinning like an idiot.
Me: You’re not wrong.
Nesta sends another string of emojis, followed by:
Nesta: Drinks soon. I need every single detail.
Me: Deal.
I toss my phone onto the seat, the weight in my chest feeling a lot lighter. The secret is out—and maybe, just maybe, that isn’t such a bad thing.
The rumbleof the jets fades into the distance as the last plane taxies in, its canopy popping open with a soft hiss. I exhale slowly as the tension that has been running through me finally begins to ease. Clipboard in hand, I make my way across the tarmac, the sharp scent of jet fuel still thick in the air as the sun dips low, painting the sky in soft shades of pink and orange.
The new formation has been tricky—tighter loops, riskier breaks—but the team has handled it like pros. Still, I can feel the edge of nerves buzzing beneath my skin. The show this weekend isn’t just another event; it istheevent. Big crowd, big expectations.
I walk past the parked jets, my boots crunching against the gravel, until I spot him.
Ash stands by his aircraft, with one hand braced against the fuselage as he wipes down the side, like he doesn’t want the ground crew touching it just yet. The sun catches the edge of his jaw, the muscles there flexing as he works, and a soft breeze ruffles his already messy hair. There is something about seeing him like this—focused, calm, and grounded—that makes my heart do that stupid, fluttery thing I try really hard to ignore.
He must feel me watching because he glances over his shoulder and gives me that lopsided grin. “We pass inspection, Phoenix?”
I roll my eyes but can’t help the smile. “Barely.”
