It didn’t escape my notice that he stared directly at Solo as he said that, probably hoping to instill a bit of fear into the guy known to be fearless.
“By the time you graduate—if you graduate—you’ll have your choice of jobs anywhere in the world. But I must warn you, the next two and a half months will be the most intense of your life. You’ll face scheduled and unscheduled hops at our discretion, sometimes at a moment’s notice. Sometimes you’ll go up in pairs. You’ll be forced to work together as a team while also competing against each other.”
The thought of being paired up with the man still staring at the back of my head made me uneasy, but I’d be damned if I showed it. This competition was mine to lose, and I never lost. I wouldn’t start now.
Commander Levy went back to pacing the room. “Only one of you will come out on top—”
Behind me, someone snorted.
Commander Levy jerked around, staring over my shoulder. “Is something amusing, Lieutenant Morgan?”
“As a matter of fact, there is,” Solo replied, arrogance not-so-subtly laced through his words.
“Since you find it important enough to interrupt my class, perhaps you’d like to share?”
All eyes turned in Solo’s direction, and being determined not to draw attention to myself, I glanced behind me. With his flight suit showing off that spectacular body, Solo lounged casually in his seat, his arm propped up lazily on the back of his chair. A smirk tipped his lips, as if he didn’t have a care in the world, as if he wasn’t sitting in a room full of the best and most respected pilots in the Navy.
“You say only one of us will come out on top,” Solo said, and then his eyes flicked to me. They seemed to be more golden than brown under the fluorescent lights, but the devilry I’d seen in them last night was still there. “It just so happens, being on top is my favorite position.”
Then he winked at me—fucking winked, that asshole—and I jerked back like I’d been slapped, turning back to face the front, because was he kidding with that shit? Could he be more obvious?
“No one wants to hear about your sex life, fucker,” Utah called out, causing a low chuckle to filter across the room.
“I’m not talking about my sex life,” Solo replied. “In that case, I don’t care who comes out on top.”
Sweet God almighty… Like I needed that thought in my head.
Or that visual.
“That’s enough,” Commander Levy snapped, and then narrowed his eyes on Solo. “I’ll see you in my office at the end of the day, lieutenant.” When Utah snickered, Levy added, “You too, Utah.”
A hush fell over the class, no one else wanting to start off their time here by getting ripped a new asshole on the first day.
“For your first hop you’ll be working as a team. Lead and wingman. I’ve assigned your partner for the duration of the course, though your roles will change up for each different hop.”
I glanced down at the binder in front of me and looked over the flight brief and specs of the F/A-18A Super Hornet.
“Now, I know most of you are familiar with these jets, or should be, at least. But just in case any of you are still coming to grips with the fact you actually made it here and will be competing for the highest honor you can get, I’m giving you an easy day.” Commander Levy paused, looked over the class. “Enjoy it. It’s the only one you’ll get.”
A murmur rang out amongst the class as the commander headed back to the desk at the front left of the room where he picked up a clipboard and pen. This was it; he was about to assign the partnerships for the duration of the competition.
“Right, listen up. I’ve got Utah as lead with Houdini as your wingman. Phantom? You’re in lead, and Alphabet, you’re flanking him. Gucci? You’ll take lead with Whiplash as your wingman. And from what I’ve heard, Whiplash, be thankful you won’t be sharing an actual cockpit…” A chorus of jeers rang out, and Whiplash turned her head to aim her eyes Gucci’s way.
“You ever throw up on me, lead or not, I’ll cut off your ball sac.”
As Commander Levy continued to call out the pairings, my heart pounded and I sat up a little straighter.
Everyone knew that who you were paired with could either make or break you when it came to these hops, and as the list got smaller and my name hadn’t yet been called, I gripped my pencil so hard that I was surprised it didn’t snap.
There were only a few names left besides mine, none of which would’ve been my first choice, and one that was certainly my last. But surely my luck wasn’t that bad—