Need for Speed (The Elite Book 2) Read online

  “Can we not talk about—”

  “The fact that your door was just opened by a fellow trainee of yours who was practically naked?”

  The contempt in my father’s tone had my blood boiling, and before I could stop myself, I fired back, “Considering the time of day, don’t you think you should be grateful he didn’t answer the door fully naked?”

  “Grant Fredrick Hughes,” my mother said as she reached for my hand and patted it, no doubt trying to calm me. But I wasn’t in the mood. I’d close to died days ago, and the first thing out of his mouth was this shit? Fuck that. “You know your father is just worried about—”

  “Himself?” I sat up a little straighter in bed, wincing at the effort. “His reputation? Oh yes, I know he’s worried about that, Mom.”

  “That’s enough, Grant.” My father’s voice was like a whip cracking in the room, and as I looked at him, spine ramrod straight, grim set of his lips, I almost felt bad for running my mouth—almost. “The last thing you need to do right now is get worked up.”

  “Worked up?”

  My father let out a sigh and walked closer to the bed. “Would you stop being so defensive for one minute and let us take a look at you? Your mother has been worried sick.”

  Low blow. But damn if it wasn’t effective. If there was one thing I hated to do, it was worry my mom.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, as I turned my attention back to see her eyes wandering down over my shirt.

  “Come on, I want to see the worst of it. Show me,” she said, and gestured to the hem.

  As I raised the material up past my ribs, to where the blue and purple bruises were the darkest, she winced and reached out to gently run her fingers over the raised welts of skin.

  “My poor boy,” she said, shaking her head. “Why didn’t you call us when you woke up? We would’ve come and taken care of you. Brought you home so you could heal and be somewhere familiar.”

  And have to deal with my father twenty-four seven? No thanks. I’d take Solo and his bad poker and never-ending chatter over my father’s steely silence any day.

  “I’m fine, Mom. They postponed the course for a couple of weeks and I just need to rest up and take a few physical therapy courses.” Which I was so not looking forward to.

  “Well, I could drive you to and from those. I don’t work anymore—”

  “Mom, it’s okay. I’d really much rather stay on base.”

  “Stay on base? Or stay close to him?” It didn’t take a genius to work out which “him” my father was referring to, and with the mood I was in, I didn’t really see the point in beating around the bush.

  “If you mean Solo, then yes. I do enjoy his company. He’s a good friend—”

  When my father grunted, I narrowed my eyes.

  “He is,” I said. “He’s also a really fucking good pilot, and my teammate while I’m here. So if him sleeping on the floor last night to make sure your son was okay after being brought home from the hospital offends you, then I don’t know what to tell you.”

  My father’s brow rose at my insubordination, but I didn’t care. How dare he come in here with his sanctimonious bullshit.

  “It’s okay, Dad. We didn’t touch each other once.”

  “Grant.”

  “What? That’s what you’re worried about, right?”

  “What I’m worried about right now is the fact that ever since you have been partnered up with that boy, you haven’t been acting like yourself.”

  “And what exactly do you mean by that?”

  “You’ve been rude, disrespectful, reckless. I watched your hop with Commander Levy; you were showing off up there—”

  “Showing off? Are you kidding me right now? I was flying smart, safe, and exactly as I was trained to do. So don’t even come at me with that. I suppose you think it was my fault the fucking plane went down too!”

  I was all but straining up off the bed now, my indignation a palpable thing, and when my mother put a hand to my chest to settle me, she aimed a look over her shoulder at my father.

  There weren’t many things that could make Captain Fredrick “Razor” Hughes back down from an argument or opinion, but my mother’s withering glare was one of them.

  “Fredrick, I think you owe your son an apology.”

  My father sighed heavily, bowing his head as he put his hands in the pockets of his slacks. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen him in a simple pair of jeans before, always dressing the equivalent of his rank no matter whether he was at work or home.

  “Look, son, I didn’t mean to imply what happened was your fault. It’s a dangerous job, what we do, and until you’re a parent, I don’t think you’ll understand what it’s like to see your kid in trouble.”

  “This is your job too. I grew up watching you fly, and you don’t think I ever got scared?”

  My father rubbed his forehead. “That’s different—”

  “How? I was as safe as I could possibly be up there. I did everything by the book, and look—I came out of it okay. No harm done.”

  He looked at me then, sharp eyes meeting mine. “Is that true?”

  “Yeah, look at me. Well, don’t look too close, but yeah, nothing’s broken or missing. I’m fine.”

  “You won’t know you’re fine until you get back up there.” He crossed his arms as he began to slowly pace the room. “It was a traumatic event, and that kind of thing messes with your head. You don’t want to be at fifty thousand feet when you have a panic attack.”

  “I won’t.”

  “You might.”

  “Fine, I’ll bring a brown paper bag with me into the cockpit.”

  “Or you could talk to someone.”

  I frowned. “Like a therapist?”

  “We have a couple on base. It wouldn’t be a bad idea. If not for yourself, then for your mother’s peace of mind.”

  Huh. Was that actually some good fatherly advice? Like he…cared? I knew my father wasn’t a bad guy, but he wasn’t one to show any emotion or sentimentality.

  I ran my hand over the prickly stubble covering my jaw and nodded. “Okay. I can do that.”

  “Oh good,” my mom said, smiling at me. “I can make the appointment for you.”

  “No, I can do it.” When her smile began to drop, I quickly added, “But thank you.”

  She squeezed my hand, rubbing her thumb lightly over my skin. “Are you feeling up for breakfast? Or we can have something delivered?”

  “Breakfast sounds great. I’ll just make sure to keep my sunglasses on so I don’t scare the waiters.”

  “Probably a good idea,” she said with a laugh as she got to her feet. “We’ll let you get dressed and meet you out at the car when you’re ready. Unless you need help?”

  “Nah, I can manage. Thanks, Mom.”

  As she headed out to the car, my father closed the door to a crack and turned my way.

  “I know I’ve been tough on you, and I know what you think. But I’ve never been ashamed of who you are, Grant. You’re my son, and I just…” He seemed to lose his words and swallowed before meeting my eyes. “I don’t want things to be harder for you. That’s all.”

  My eyes began to burn from the sting of unexpected tears, but I wouldn’t let them fall. Not in front of my father.

  “Thank you,” I said, not sure what else I wanted to add to that, but grateful he’d even said as much as he had.

  He went to leave, but then hesitated. “One more thing. If your friend decides to open the door again, you might want to make sure he’s dressed. We do have our legacies to think about.”

  And with that, he exited the room, leaving me stunned as I ran his words through my head again, committing them to memory so I wouldn’t forget. Never once had he been accepting of my being gay, but it sure as hell had sounded like he’d had a change of heart, hadn’t it? Maybe hearing his only son had blasted out of a jet had him rethinking things.

  Yeah, I thought, as I carefully changed into a fresh shirt, I can only hope.

  8 Solo

  IN HINDSIGHT, MAYBE it wasn’t the best idea to open Panther’s door in only my boxer briefs, but in my defense, it was early and I was still half-asleep. I hadn’t wanted to put Panther in a bad position, especially with his family, but damn, the look on his father’s face had been priceless.

  I’d watched them drive off a couple of hours ago, so I hit the gym, working off some of that sexual tension that had been so thick between us last night. By the time I jogged back to my room, Panther was getting out of the back seat of his parents’ Range Rover. I couldn’t decipher the look on his face, no way to gauge whether it’d been a good visit or one he wanted to forget.

  He waved as they pulled out of the parking lot, and once they were gone, he turned to face me.

  “You’re wearing more clothes than the last time I saw you.”

  I grinned and wiped my forehead with the towel around my neck. “A shame, I know.”

  Shaking his head, Panther reached into his pocket for his keys, and as he unlocked the door, I moved in beside him.

  “Do you have plans today?” I said.

  “Other than suffocating inside my four walls wishing I was anywhere else?”

  “Okay, let me rephrase. Do you want to have plans today?”

  A smile slowly crossed his lips. “There something you have in mind?”

  “Yeah, there is. Give me an hour,” I said, backing away, and when Panther’s grin grew wider, I knew I had him.

  I took a quick shower and then went to pick up a surprise. It was right at an hour later when I knocked on his door.

  He opened it, his freshly showered hair still glistening at the ends, and he’d changed into shorts and a t-shirt. “Not too casual, am I?”

  I trailed my eyes down every inc
h of him, letting him know how much I liked what I saw. “Fucking perfect. Though if you wanted to go naked, I wouldn’t complain.”

  “I make it a point never to ride commando.”

  “Ah, well, there’s been a change in plans.” I gestured to the sporty red convertible parked in the space I usually kept my Yamaha—which was now safely tucked away in the car rental agency’s garage—and smirked. “I know how much you like the purr between your thighs, but since you’re supposed to be taking it easy, I figured this might be more comfortable for you. And you still get the wind in your face.”

  Panther stepped outside, shutting his door behind him, and whistled. “Whose car did you steal?”

  “Commander Levy’s.”

  “What?” His eyes popped wide, and I had to laugh, though it said a lot about what he thought of me if he thought I was serious.

  “Relax. He won’t miss it.”

  “Solo, I’m not getting in a stolen car.”

  “Then enjoy staring at your four walls. Or what did you say? Suffocating inside those four walls?”

  “Where’s your bike?”

  I glanced around, feigning panic. “Shit. Oh shit.” I couldn’t keep up the act, though, laughter bubbling up and out as horror crossed Panther’s face. “Jesus, you are too easy. Come on.” Swinging the keys, I hopped off the sidewalk and opened the passenger-side door, but Panther stayed put, glaring at me. “What?”

  “Where’d you get the car?”

  “I told you.”

  He crossed his arms, seeming content to stay there all day if I didn’t answer.

  “You’re a pain in the ass, you know that? Let’s see, if it’s not Commander Levy’s car, and it’s not my car, then, gee, I guess maybe I picked it up at a place you rent cars. Now will you please get in before I melt on this hot as fuck pavement?”

  Apparently appeased by my answer, Panther slid his Aviators onto his face and brushed by me before getting into the passenger’s seat.

  “Good boy,” I joked, shutting his door and then rounding the car to take my spot behind the wheel. I’d already ridden this baby hard on the freeway, so I knew the power it contained if I pushed it. And with Panther beside me, I planned to push it.

  I ran my eyes over his broad shoulders and the incredibly built body I knew was underneath those clothes. “You might want to buckle up there, lieutenant.”

  Panther’s lips quirked. “Oh yeah? Gonna take me for a ride, huh?”

  As he buckled in, I licked my lips. “Mhmm, hard and fast, just the way you like it.”

  Panther swallowed and then shifted in his seat, clearly thinking of the night I’d had him under me, which was exactly my intent.

  “I think I can handle it.”

  I chuckled as I turned the key and the car rumbled to life. The throaty purr of the exhaust rumbling beneath us made the car vibrate, and we hadn’t even gone anywhere yet. “I hope you’re right, because I’m not gonna go easy on you.”

  Panther propped his arm up on the open window frame and glanced my way, and fuck me, the guy had never looked sexier in his life. “Like you said, I like you best hard.”

  The comment was so direct and so damn sexy that I had a feeling this little joy ride was going to be one I wouldn’t forget anytime soon. When I let out a low groan, Panther said, “Well, what are you waiting for?”

  The return of my brain and how to drive a car? But before I could get even more distracted, or maybe think about trying to convince Panther to forget about the drive and maybe go back inside, where there was, oh, I don’t know, a bed, I took a deep breath and refocused on the road ahead.

  Right, it was time to get my frustration out some other way until I could enjoy riding the body sitting only inches away from mine. So, let’s see what this baby can really do.

  9 Panther

  AS WITH ALL things Solo did, there was no middle ground. There was zero and batshit crazy, and as we merged onto the freeway and he crossed three lanes of traffic without slowing or sparing more than a passing glance, I had the fleeting thought that driving with Solo was far more dangerous than flying a fighter jet for a living.

  A blaring horn made me turn to see a man shooting us the finger as Solo made a sharp turn into his lane, cutting him off a little more abruptly than was polite, and when I shot a glare at Solo, the fucker was waving in the rearview mirror.

  “You have a death wish,” I shouted over the blaring music and wind whistling in my ears.

  Solo glanced my way, a frown pulling down on his forehead. “Huh?”

  I pointed to the road, indicating that he should probably watch it. “You have a fucking death wish!”

  Solo let out a bellowing laugh that could’ve been construed as joyful or maniacal, depending on your point of view, but as he stomped on the gas and tore up the stretch of empty road ahead, I was pretty sure the two emotions went hand in hand for him.

  We’d been driving for nearly twenty minutes now, and while Solo hadn’t bothered telling me where we were going, I found I didn’t care. Just being away from the base, away from the suffocating confines of my room for a few hours was freeing, and again I was struck by the fact that Solo seemed to know exactly what I needed.

  How does he do that? Or maybe the question I should’ve been asking myself was: How do I feel about the fact he seems to read me so well?

  “You hungry?”

  I looked over to see Solo tapping his hand on the top of the steering wheel in time to the music. Though how he could hear it over the howling wind was beyond me.

  “What?”

  “Are. You. Hungry?” he said, and as though my stomach was triggered by the suggestion, it growled.

  I nodded and reached for the volume knob of the stereo. “I could eat.”

  “You like seafood?”

  I loved seafood. “As long as I don’t have to catch it, then yeah. TJ’S Seafood is great, and only about fifteen minutes out.”

  Solo reached for his phone and tossed it to me. “Why don’t you call and order ahead? We can pick it up and head back to Black Rock Cliffs if you like?”

  Black Rock Cliffs? Wait, that was the same place our motorcycle race had come to its epic finale, wasn’t it?

  As I had memories of me kneeling at Solo’s feet with his jeans around his thighs, and the sounds he’d made when he finally came against me, he grinned and nodded as though he knew exactly where my mind had gone.

  “I thought this time we could park up top and enjoy the views. You know, since the last time I was there, I didn’t get to see much of it.”

  You and me both, I thought, pulling up a search for TJ’s Seafood to get the number. “This place has the best beer-battered fish, but I don’t think you can go wrong with whatever you get.”

  “Beer-battered fish sounds good to me. I trust you.”

  “Do you?” I looked at him, the reckless hotshot everyone called Solo for a reason. “I thought you didn’t trust anyone. That’s where you got your call sign, right?”

  “Not everyone should be trusted.” He reached over and tapped the phone in my hand. “Food, then talk.”

  I quickly placed a couple of orders of fish, along with a few sides and drinks, and not long after, we were pulling into TJ’s.

  “Stay here,” Solo said, sliding out of the car. He started toward the restaurant, then turned back and spread his hands along the frame of the car. “Don’t even think about getting behind the wheel. You drive off without me, and there’ll be hell to pay.”

  “I’m too fuckin’ hungry to leave you behind.”

  “Good.”

  As he walked away, I took a nice, long look at his ass, that perfect ass that was, unfortunately, covered in a loose pair of jeans that were practically threadbare. Definitely his favorite pair, I thought, remembering exactly what lay beneath them.

  With everything that had happened, it felt like the night we’d spent in the hotel together was years ago, not days ago, and truth be told, I didn’t know what the hell to think about it all now. The last thing either of us needed was to make things complicated with any real feelings, or to lose focus on why we were at NAFTA.

  It’s casual. We’re friends who find each other attractive. It’s fine.

  But as Solo came out of the restaurant with a to-go bag and drink carrier, looking more striking than anyone had the right to, I felt a sinking sensation in my gut that told me I might be falling for trouble.