“You were close,” my mother said. “You, um…you dated him.”
“I figured,” I said. “Did we break up?”
My parents exchanged a brief look and then focused back on me.
My father cleared his throat, then said, “I think Nolan needs to be the one to tell you, if you don’t remember.”
With a nod, I replied, “Okay. Well, he’s picking me up at nine.”
Neither of them seemed the least bit surprised, which led me to believe that they already knew about my date somehow.
“Oh, that’s nice. What are y’all planning on doing?” my mother asked.
I shrugged. “I’m not sure. Nolan texted me and told me to wear jeans and boots.”
My father chuckled. “Well, Nolan is a good guy; I’m sure he’ll make it a fun day for you.”
“So you like him, then?”
Their eyes both widened in shock. “Yes. We adore Nolan, he’s like a—”
My mother’s words cut off quickly.
“Like a what?” I asked.
She smiled as she continued to speak. “You had a number of close friends in high school, Linnzi. They were always here at the house, it seemed like. They all felt like our kids, I guess you could say.”
All I could do was nod. Then, the doorbell rang, and I nearly jumped up out of my seat.
“Goodness!” my mother said with a nervous chuckle.
“Sorry, it scared me.” I turned and headed out of the kitchen and to the front door. When I opened it, I nearly tripped over my tongue trying to speak.
“Good gracious,” I whispered as I took in the sight in front of me. Nolan stood there dressed in jeans, a black t-shirt that accented his wide upper body and trim waist very nicely, and a baseball cap. He was holding flowers. Not one, but two bouquets of pink roses.
“Overkill with the flowers?” Nolan asked, a crooked smile forming ever so slowly.
“No! It’s only. Well, you’re so…”
A single brow rose as he asked, “So?”
I swallowed hard then shook my head. “Nothing. Come in.”
Nolan walked into the house and handed me one of the bouquets of flowers. My mother walked up and gasped. “Nolan, sweetheart.”
When she hugged him, I took a step back. I wasn’t sure why I was surprised by their closeness; my mother had just said Nolan had spent a lot of time at the house.
Nolan handed my mother the roses. “You look beautiful, Amy.”
She blushed. She actually blushed. My father then walked up and shook Nolan’s hand. “You staying safe, son?”
Son?
“Trying my best, sir.”
“What planes are you flying now?” Dad asked as he and Nolan fell into the easiest conversation ever.
“Right now it’s been the F-22 Raptors.”
I made a mental note to look that plane up and learn what I could about it.
“How many missiles does that one hold?”
“Six on the main weapons bay, the side weapons bay holds one each.”
My father grinned like a little boy. “There’s a gun on there, correct?”
Nolan chuckled. “M61A2 20-mm multibarrel cannon. Holds four-hundred-and-eighty rounds.”
“Nice,” my father said with a nod of his head as I rolled my eyes. I was pretty sure my mother did as well.
“Yeah, it’s a fun plane to fly.”
“I’d love to see that baby in action.”
Nolan pulled out his phone. “I’ve got a video of me flying one.”
I nearly ran over to where they were standing. Too much? Probably. But I didn’t care.
“Let me take these and put them in water,” my mother said as she took the flowers out of my hand.
“Thank you, Mom,” I said as I watched Nolan flip through his phone. I wasn’t going to lie, I was also looking to see if there were photos of any women on there.
My father stood on one side of Nolan, and I stood on the other. Nolan hit play, and I watched a fighter jet taking off down a runway. It had barely gotten into the air before it immediately went straight up.
“Wow!” my father and I both said.
It turned upside down and started to fly straight back down. Then, it twisted three times and I grabbed onto Nolan’s arm as I gasped.
The next video showed the jet go up, and then it damn near looked like it stopped in mid-air and started to fall before it turned and began flying again.
“How many Gs will it pull?” Dad asked.
“Max, nine-point-six, but the most we pull is nine.”
“Nine?” I asked, completely stunned at how nonchalant he acted.
Nolan nodded, then looked back at the video when my father called, “Holy shit!”
“Why are you flying…so…” I stuttered.
“Crazy?” my father said.
“It’s my job. I have to push the jet to its limits. Trust me when I say this is nothing. This plane can do a hell of a lot more than this.”
“You’re falling!” I said as I gripped his arm harder.
He looked at me and smiled. “No, I’m not, Linz.”
Then it showed someone standing under the plane as it came in and landed.