Need for Speed (The Elite Book 2) Read online

  “Huh?”

  “You look upset, and I don’t think the threat of a good time caused it.” As if to prove his point, he rocked his hips over mine, but I reached out to grab hold of them to still his movements.

  I searched the dark depths of his eyes, so intense on mine, wishing I could see something to let me know…what, exactly? That I wasn’t just another notch on his belt? That he wasn’t just a notch on mine?

  “Okaaay,” Solo said, rolling back to his side of the bed. “You’re looking way too serious over there, which means you’re thinking about something you shouldn’t be.”

  Sighing, I brought a hand up to rest under my head and trained my gaze on the ceiling fan lazily spinning overhead. “Do you ever get lonely?”

  “In bed?” When I pinned him with a look, he held his hands up. “In general?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I lost my entire fucking family. What do you think?”

  “I think you’re really good at answering a question with another question.”

  Solo let out a sigh and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Of course I get lonely. I’m human, aren’t I?”

  “Sure you want me to answer that?” Solo gave me the side-eye, and my lips quirked. “It’s just, you never talk about it. You can you know? Talk about them, with me. If you want to.”

  Solo swallowed, and for the first time in as long as I’d known him, he looked…uncomfortable.

  “Hey, I’m sorry,” I quickly said, hating that my own insecurities, my own doubts had made me push him into a conversation he clearly didn’t want to have. Good job, moron. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

  “Yes, you did.” Solo chuckled. “But that’s okay. I know you’re asking because you care.”

  Wow. I realized I hadn’t been as stealthy as I’d intended in hiding my feelings. But clearly he didn’t seem too worried about it. In fact, his soft expression made me think he might even…like it.

  “I do care,” I said, before I even knew I was going to—and just being able to finally voice that, to say it out loud, felt amazing.

  Solo turned his head to look at me and slowly smiled. I cradled his cheek and brushed my lips over his. “I didn’t mean to, but somewhere along the way—”

  “It just happened?” The emotions I’d been looking for minutes ago were now swirling in his beautiful eyes. “I know. For me too.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. Shit. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.” Solo placed his hand over the one I still had on his cheek, and then drew it down to his chest. “I was just gonna have some fun with you while I kicked your ass.”

  A wide smile split my lips at that very typical Solo comment. “But?”

  “But somewhere along the way I started thinking how nice it was to talk to you every night after class. Eat dinner with you. Lie down beside you and go to sleep.” Solo shook his head and shrugged. “Somewhere along the way I stopped wanting to kick your ass, and wanted to kiss it instead. I’ve never been one to want to settle down, but knowing this is your home base, I’ve gotta admit, Grant, Mesamir has been looking really good.”

  Oh thank fuck. So it wasn’t just me feeling this way.

  “Happy now?”

  “Huh?”

  “I mean, I’m assuming that’s what got you all freaked out a second ago right?”

  When I didn’t say anything, Solo started to laugh.

  “You’re so easy to read, you know that?”

  “Says he who has the worst poker face in history.”

  Solo rolled to his side and scooted in until his naked body was flush up against mine, and he began to play with my dog tags. “I care. So much more than I ever thought I would. But that still doesn’t change the fact that after this we’re gonna end up wherever they send us.”

  Right, and what a depressing thought that was. “It might not change anything, but right now it makes me happy.”

  “How happy?” Solo trailed his fingers down the center of my chest to the sheet, and this time when he lifted it, I let him. “Oooh, super fucking happy.”

  “You’re ridiculous.”

  “Hmm…” Solo nodded as though he wasn’t paying attention now that he had something much more interesting in his sights. But then he raised his eyes back to mine and grinned. “But you care about me anyway…might even like me like…a whole lot, judging by this.”

  Deciding I’d tortured him long enough by having to talk about his feelings, I kicked the sheet down and tugged him up over the top of me, determined to show him exactly how much I cared.

  28 Solo

  AS COMMANDER LEVY went over the brief for the hop, I sketched the outline of an F-22 Raptor in my notebook, listening just enough to what was being said to file away the pertinent information. It wasn’t that I didn’t care, just that it was all so redundant. And maybe I listened better if my hands were busy, so sue me.

  Beside me, Panther—ever the good student—was actually paying attention, but the real shocker was that he wasn’t sitting several rows down, like he normally preferred. He’d grabbed the seat beside mine before Houdini could get there, and I had to admit I liked that. A lot.

  Panther glanced at me and then down at my drawing, the smallest of smiles crossing his face. He shook his head.

  “What?” I whispered. “I’m paying attention.”

  Panther waited until Levy turned around to grab something off his desk, and then he tapped the drawing with his pen. “Your vertical stabilizers should be farther back.”

  I looked down and frowned. “They look good to me.”

  “They’re wrong.”

  “They are not.” When Panther shrugged, I held the notebook up in front of me for a different angle. “They’re fucking perfect.”

  “Is there something you would like to share with the rest of us, Lieutenant Morgan?” Commander Levy’s voice boomed off the walls as he directed his stare my way. When I didn’t answer immediately, I could’ve sworn I saw a gleam in his eyes. “Please. Do share what’s so important it couldn’t wait until after the briefing.”

  I let out an exaggerated sigh and then flipped my notebook around and held it up for him to see. A few snickers sounded around the room, and Panther let out a low groan, sinking down slightly in his seat.

  “Ah. Doodling planes, are we?” Levy walked down the aisle toward me, clasping his hands behind his back.

  “Not just any plane, sir.”

  “No?” He stopped beside my desk and swiped the notebook from my hand. As he studied the drawing, he pursed his lips. “Would you say this is an accurate depiction of an F-22 Raptor?”

  “It’s pretty damn close.”

  “Hmm.” Commander Levy held up the notebook for the others. “Do you all agree? Has Lieutenant Morgan done the Raptor justice?”

  “He shouldn’t quit his day job,” Utah cracked from somewhere behind me, and I didn’t bother looking his way as I lifted my middle finger.

  “Anyone else?” As Levy’s eyes roamed over the room, the rest of my fellow trainees stayed uncharacteristically silent. “No? What about you, Lieutenant Hughes? Any critiques for your partner?”

  My heart jumped at the word “partner,” until I realized seconds later that he meant “partner’ in relation to class, not outside of it.

  Jesus, calm the hell down. It’s not like sitting beside him gives anything away.

  Panther’s eyes shifted to me briefly before focusing on my drawing still in Levy’s hands. “It’s not a bad rendition, but the vertical stabilizers should be farther back. That looks like one of the early drafts.”

  Approval beamed on Commander Levy’s face as he nodded at Panther, but when he turned his attention back to me, his lips flattened into a thin line. “Perhaps you could practice on your own time, lieutenant, and pay attention during mine.” He dropped the notebook on my desk with a loud slap, and as he walked off, I looked over to see Panther struggling not to laugh.

  I rolled my eyes and closed the notebook. “Oh, shut up.”

  “Now that Solo has successfully shared what’s sure to be incredibly useful information, considering we don’t fly F-22 Raptors here, perhaps you’d like to meet the former NAFTA pilots you’ll be facing in the hop today.” Levy inclined his head toward the door behind us, and on cue, it opened and a long line of men and women in uniform marched down the aisle. I recognized a couple, but there was one in particular that was very familiar.

  Panther’s father.

  “Not again,” Panther said under his breath, as our competition lined up along the front of the room and Levy came around the end with two glass bowls filled with folded slips of paper.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, these are some of the finest pilots ever to go through this program. Beat them, and you’re well on your way to the top of this class. You’ll be paired by random drawing to make this as fair as possible. Good luck.”

  As Levy took a slip out of each bowl, I clicked my pen and leaned in toward Panther. “Permission to take your father down if I draw him?”

  Panther let out a low chuckle. “Permission granted.”

  “Solo,” Levy said, reading my name off the slip of paper. “You’ll be up against Commander Heinz.”

  I looked over to the female instructor, and as our eyes met, I smirked, hoping to psych her out. No problem.

  “I look forward to it,” I said.

  One by one, Levy called out the pair-ups, and when Panther’s turn came around, I realized his partner options were down to two. Levy himself—and after the disaster that had happened last time, the last thing Panther needed was that reminder—and Panther’s daddy-o.

  Shit. Maybe they’d let me trade Heinz for a go at one of those two, because neither seemed like a good option for Panther. He’d finally gotten back into the
groove of things; how the hell would they make him go up against either of those men?

  “Well, well, well,” Levy said, looking down at the slips of paper he held in his hands. “This is a first. It looks like we’ll have a match between Lieutenant Hughes and Captain Hughes.”

  A low murmur broke out around the room as everyone looked between father and son. Panther remained expressionless, not giving away how he felt about being paired up against his legendary father. Even I couldn’t get a read on him, not sure whether he was freaked, excited, nervous…nothing. How the hell did he manage that?

  But as I glanced at Captain Hughes, it became abundantly clear, because he wore the same unemotional expression as his son, neither of them willing to show their hand.

  As Levy paired up the final competitors, I leaned in toward Panther.

  “You good with this?”

  Staring straight ahead and still as could be, he gave me the smallest of nods.

  Damn. He had that cold aloofness back, something I hadn’t seen since the first week here, back when he wanted to kick my ass on the daily. It was as if he was laser focused from the moment his and his father’s names had been called, and, not wanting to interfere for once, I shifted back in my seat and looked again between the two of them.

  It may not have been the match we expected, but I had a feeling it would be one none of us would soon forget.

  29 Panther

  GOING UP AGAINST my father for the first time in front of the entirety of NAFTA hadn’t been high on my list of priorities. Hell, it’d never even made it to a potential list of priorities. How the hell anyone thought this was a good idea was beyond me, but at least I knew my father well enough to know he wouldn’t take it easy on me. Which meant if I somehow pulled off a win, it would be because I’d earned it, not because he’d let me have it.

  But about that winning thing…

  With my helmet in hand, I walked through the hangar with Solo biting his tongue beside me. Ever since we’d stepped out of the classroom he’d looked as though he had something on his mind, and I wondered if he’d actually say whatever it was before we got up in the air. He’d been quiet, too quiet, and it was starting to bother me more than what I was about to face.

  I gave him a sideways glance. “Solo, spit it out. I know you’re dying to.”

  “I’m not much of a spitter, but you already—”

  “Don’t you dare finish that sentence.”

  “But—”

  “Solo.”

  With a laugh, he put his hands up. “Fine, killjoy. I just wanted to know where your head’s at.”

  “I think that would be pretty obvious.”

  “Yeah, but how do you feel about it?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It matters to me.”

  I stopped walking and turned to face Solo. “It’s fine. I’m fine. It’s just another hop.”

  “Against your father.”

  “I’m well aware.”

  “Then what’s the game plan?”

  I couldn’t help snorting. “I knew you weren’t paying attention during the briefing.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it. But you know what I think?” He took a step closer. “I think you should get up there and go fucking wild.”

  I quirked an eyebrow. “Yeah, because going wild against my father with everyone in this place watching would go over so well.”

  “You want to win, don’t you?”

  “No, I want to lose,” I said, shooting him a look.

  “He’s expecting you to play it safe. He can probably anticipate your moves before you realize you’re doing them.”

  “And you don’t think I’ve done the same? I’ve watched him my whole life.” I put my hand on Solo’s shoulder and squeezed. “Trust me; I’ve got this.”

  A wide smile crossed Solo’s face and he laughed. “Fuck yes, you do.”

  “Thank you. Is that all?”

  “Looks like you’ve got it handled, Lieutenant Hughes. Good luck up there.”

  I nodded as I backed away. “You too. Try to take it easy on Commander Heinz.”

  “Not a chance.” Solo winked before heading toward his jet, and I walked off in the opposite direction toward mine. My body hummed with anticipation, and I tried to block out the “who” part of what was about to happen and focus on the “what,” which was winning this hop. At this moment, nothing else mattered.

  I went through my pre-check several times, as I’d tended to do since the accident, and once I was satisfied, I climbed into the Hornet.

  Stay sharp. Stay fast. Stay on him.

  My mind cleared, becoming laser focused on the job at hand, and in a matter of minutes, I was soaring up to thirty-five thousand feet, ready and on guard for anything.

  I didn’t have to wait long. My father didn’t play games; he didn’t linger in the wings and wait for the perfect moment. He made the moment.

  As soon as I reached altitude, I caught sight of him in my periphery, and he wasted no time diving in my direction. He had me on the defensive from the get-go, a position I hated to be in, but there was no way in hell I was giving him a lock on me in the first two minutes in the air, so I needed to make a move and fast. A split-second decision had me banking left and diving so fast I felt like my body was splitting in two. But if I was gonna have a fighting chance at winning this thing, I needed to stump his radar, and heading straight toward the ground was the way to do that.

  He didn’t follow me down, choosing to back off instead, so once I was clear, I maneuvered the Hornet back on the horizontal, taking the long way around.

  Let’s see what you can do when it’s a fair fight.

  I locked him into my sights as we flew toward each other, ending up in a series of intense aerial spirals that had us chasing each other’s tails. Neither of us could get a lock on the other, and as we faced off again and again, it was clear how evenly matched we were.

  Like father, like son.

  A hop like this didn’t usually last this long, but I didn’t let myself feel the pressure of wrapping it up quickly. I had enough gas, and the motivation of a clean win was enough for me.

  My father turned the nose of his jet up into the sky and went vertical, and I recognized a pattern I’d seen from him before. I knew exactly what he was going to do, and instead of watching and waiting, I decided to take matters into my own hands.

  I chased his ass into the sky.

  The sun made it hard to see well enough to get a clear shot, but I knew I had him. I just needed another second…just one more…

  An alert sounded as I locked on to my father’s jet, and then the confirmation came through the comm loud and clear: “Razor’s out.”

  Holy fuck. My head buzzed, and I didn’t even feel my body anymore. I’d just beaten my father. In front of his colleagues, my fellow trainees…Solo.

  My vision blurred as I blinked rapidly, trying not to let my emotions take over, but I needed to cry or scream or something. I ripped off my mask and let out a loud whoop, laughing the whole way back down to base. But the second the wheels touched the runway, a whole new slew of emotions took over, ones I didn’t understand. The most startling of them all? Ambivalence.

  Huh. Where the hell did that come from?

  As I parked the plane, I saw movement out of the corner of my eye and looked toward the hangar to see Solo jumping up, pumping his helmet in the air. He had the world’s biggest grin on his face, and as the canopy opened and I removed my helmet, I could hear him whooping and yelling out, “Fuck yes! You just did that. Razor’s out.”

  I plastered a smile back on my face and climbed out of the plane as he ran over to me, Houdini and Gucci hot on his heels. They greeted me with shouts, hugs, and fist bumps, each talking over the other one in a rush.

  “Holy shit, dude,” Houdini said. “You just took out your old man. How’s that even feel?”

  “The way you swooped in for that last shot? Damn. It was killer.” Gucci’s eyes were wide, unable to hide the surprise he clearly felt.

  Solo slung his arm around my shoulders, a casual move that I wouldn’t have noticed from anyone else, but from Solo it was like an electric jolt went through my body, even with all the gear on.

  His eyes were shining as he tapped on my chest and said, “From now on, no one’s gonna question who the legend in the family is. Badass Grant ‘Panther’ Hughes, motherfuckers.”