Frowning, I set the beer down on the counter and pad to the door, pulling it open.
Noah and Nathan River stand in front of me, grinning like they’ve already made themselves at home. Noah holds up a pizza box, the smell of pepperoni and grease wafting in.
“Thought you might be hungry,” Noah says, stepping past me without waiting for an invitation.
Nathan follows, giving me a knowing look. “And might be in need of some company after Maddox handed you your ass today.”
I roll my eyes but step aside, closing the door behind them. “Glad to see my humiliation is such grand entertainment. And thanks for the heads-up from you, Nathan. You saw her last night. You could have warned me. But neither you nor Knox let me in on that little secret, other than Knox telling me who she was. Nope, y'all wanted me to get caught with my pants down this morning when we went into brief.”
Nathan plops down on the couch, flipping the lid of the pizza box open. “Hey, we’ve all been there. First day’s always rough, even if you tried to flirt your way into the lead commander's pants,” he says with a laugh.
Noah smirks, grabbing a slice and leaning back against the counter. “Yeah, but not everyone gets mentored by Commander Maddox. You’ve got your work cut out for you, Dragon.”
“You know you're a rookie, too, Noah, right? We’re kind of in the same boat here. Why do you think I’m the only one she's gonna be hard on?” Ugh, why did I say “hard on”?
I grab my beer and lean against the kitchen island, snagging a slice of pizza from the box. “Speaking of Maddox…” I start, my tone casual, though I can feel both their eyes on me. “What’s her deal?”
Nathan raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Her deal?”
“Yeah,” I say, taking a bite of pizza. “What’s her story? How long has she been with the Angels? Is she always this… intense?”
Nathan chuckles, shaking his head. “She’s been around a while. Started as a rookie and worked her way up. She’s one of the best pilots in the country for a reason. She flew with the Angels right before I started but has kind of been behind the scenes until this season.”
“And she’s single?” I ask, cutting straight to the point.
Nathan nearly chokes on his pizza, laughing as he sets the crust down on a napkin. “You’re not serious,” he says, looking over his shoulder at me.
I shrug, trying to play it cool. “Just curious. She seems like the type to focus on her career. No time for distractions, you know?”
“Distractions like you?” Noah teases.
Nathan shakes his head, his grin widening. “Look, Maddox doesn’t talk about her personal life, but if you’re thinking about making a move? Don’t. She doesn’t mess around, especially not with rookies. She's close with Knox, so if you are really fishing for information, ask him.”
“Noted,” I say, taking another sip of my beer.
Nathan gives me a pointed look. “I mean it, Carr. Maddox is all business. You try your usual routine on her, and you’ll be lucky if she doesn’t bury you in paperwork.”
I lean back against the counter, the smile still there despite myself. “Like I said, good to know.”
Noah shakes his head, laughing under his breath. “Man, you don’t stand a chance.”
Maybe not. But the challenge only makes things more interesting.
Isink into the couch with a sigh, tucking my legs underneath me as I reach for my wineglass. The rich, velvety red is a well-earned reward after the day I’ve had. Flying, drilling, and whipping rookies into shape isn’t exactly simple work, but it’s what I love.
Still, by the time I walked through the door of my house, kicked off my boots, and shrugged out of the flight suit, all I wanted was quiet.
The TV casts a warm glow across the living room, the familiar chaos of a reality show filling the space. I don’t even care which one is on—just something loud, dramatic, and completely unrelated to the real world. A group of overly tanned contestants is arguing about who said what, and I can’t help but grin into my wineglass.
It is ridiculous. Mindless. Exactly what I need.
My shoulders relax as I sink deeper into the cushions, stretching out, with the wine balanced delicately in one hand. For the first time all day, I’m not Commander Maddox, the hard-ass instructor barking orders and pointing out every minor flaw. Here, I am just Amelia, a woman who needs to decompress with wine and trashy TV.
My thoughts drift, unbidden, to the airfield. To the drills. To him.
Ash Carr.
The man is trouble, wrapped in a cocky grin and a flight suit that probably made half the team of both women and men swoon. He is good; I’ll give him that. Great, even. But he needs to learn control. Discipline. How to be part of something bigger than himself.
