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“Call sign,” he says, like it explains everything. “It comes with the job.”

I force the growing knot down my throat. “And that job would be…?”

“I’m a pilot. That’s actually why we’re here tonight, celebrating. A few of us just transferred from Tyndall to Nellis. We got selected for a Raptor squadron.” He says it humbly. But there’s an earned pride beneath it.

“Raptor…” He mistakes it for a question and I let him.

He grins like he doesn’t usually have to explain this, but doesn’t mind. “F-22 Raptor. Best damn jet in the world. Stealth, speed, agility, you name it. Flying one is like…becoming part of something untouchable.”

His voice drops, and suddenly we’re in our own little pocket of space.

“When I’m up there, it’s like the jet and I are one. Every decision, every move, it’s instinct. Reaction. Pure adrenaline. You don’t just fly a Raptor. You become it.”

I nod, but I’m not really thinking about jets. I’m thinking about how close he is. How alive he looks when he talks about flying. And how that same intensity is now focused entirely on me.

I reach for his forearm, tracing the edge of his tattoo without thinking. Before I can ask about it, Ivy slides up beside me.

She glances at my hand, smirks. I let it drop.

“Hey, you, we’re heading back to the hotel. Early hike and I already know I’m going to be hungover,” she whines, dropping her head on my shoulder. Her voice lowers. “You don’t have to come with us, I’ll get all the girls to stay in my room.” She smirks. “Live a little, my love.”

I hesitate. My eyes slide to Logan’s. He’s watching me, gaze steady. Not pushy. But open. Warm. Like he’s offering something rare.

“You don’t have to go,” he says, voice low. “I can make sure you get back safe.”

Ivy kisses my cheek. “Have fun,” she sings. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” She winks at Logan. “I met my fiancé in a bar.”

My cheeks burn. Logan just smiles.

I watch him as he closes out the tab, smooth and unhurried. He slides his card back into his wallet like he has all the time in the world.

And maybe tonight, he does.

“All right,” I say, heart racing. “Where to next?”

Las Vegas, Nevada

August 4, 2018

2318

Logan

Lila threads her fingers through mine and leads us out of the crowded bar. My hand curls around hers instinctively, possessively. Her grip is warm and sure, like she’s not second-guessing this and I really fucking hope she doesn’t.

I nod toward Ryan and the guys as we pass. They catcall obnoxiously and I shoot them a look that would silence a lesser man. Because it’s not like that.

I mean, it could be.

I wouldn’t mind.

But it doesn’t have to be.

I follow her out, the pulse of the music fading behind us. My eyes catch on the sway of her hips for half a second too long before I force them back up but it’s already too late. That image’s burned into the inside of my eyelids now. Yeah, she’s gorgeous—curves in all the right places, soft green eyes, and a smile that makes me forget I’m standing in a room full of noise—but it’s more than that. She looks at me like she sees something real. Like she’s not buying the swagger and doesn’t need the show. Like maybe she wants what’s underneath.

Hell, I want to give it to her.

The dry night air hits us the second we walk through the doors. Lila drops my hand and I fight the urge to grab it again. To keep the connection humming between us.