Tailspin: A Top Gun Love Story - Pete "Maverick" Mitchell

Chapter 9

The following afternoon, you show up at Hangar One to find it deserted. You remember Tom telling you that, when flight conditions are poor, temporarily grounded pilots take to the rec room to play video games and pass the time.

You head to the stairwell, hoping that the surroundings will jog your memory and you'll be able to find it. Unfortunately, you get turned about and wander the halls aimlessly for nearly twenty minutes. The place is eerily silent and you start to feel a little uneasy navigating through the corridors by yourself.

When you hear laughter coming from around the corner, a wave of relief washes over you. In your hurry to reach humanity, you burst through the door without reading the plaque hanging just below the frosted window.

You freeze upon entering, instantly realizing that this is not, in fact, the rec room. A dense mist obscures your vision and you break out in a sweat from the suffocating heat and, of course, the panic of having stormed the men's locker room.

You're about to wheel around and bolt when a face appears in the haze. You groan inwardly. Of course, it would be him.

Maverick's eyes widen when he sees you, his face stunned. He takes a step forward and you nearly faint upon seeing that he's wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. You let out a shallow breath and you can't seem to breathe back in. His body is glistening as if he's just hopped out of the shower and you're not quite sure if you can keep it together as he approaches you.

But Maverick seems unfazed. He puts his hands on your shoulders to steer you back toward the door.

"What are you doing here?" he hisses at you with an amused grin on his face.

You stare at him in horror, unable to express how exactly you came to be standing before him in the locker room. "I don't know," is all you can manage to say.

He tries to stifle his laughter. "You're such a dork."

You cringe, mortified.

He watches you with a smile, as if he's thoroughly entertained.

Meanwhile, you are expending so much energy not looking at his wet, absurdly chiseled abs, that your logical reasoning skills seem to have completely forsaken you and you keep standing motionless in place.

Finally, Maverick points behind you with a smirk, lifting his eyebrows. "The door is that way." He nods toward it.

"The door?" you repeat.

He purses his lips, chuckling. "Unless you want to see Slider's hairy ass."

You laugh uneasily, finally pulling your gaze away from his face.

Maverick reaches behind you to pull open the door, his chest brushing your shoulder. You hold your breath.

He turns his head to look at you, catching your gaze. "As much as I hate to see you go," he says, a small smile playing on his lips as he holds it open for you.

"Can you" – you start as you step out. But then, you reconsider – "Actually, no, don't tell him. I'll just – I'll wait back at the hangar."

Maverick nods. "That's probably a good idea," he replies.

The moment the door closes, you groan, bringing your hands over your face. You lean your back against the wall and tilt your head up, lifting your eyes toward the ceiling. Every part of you aches to go back inside – to tell Maverick exactly how you feel.

But you can't, not with Tom changing just a few locker walls over. You can't. No matter how much the sight of a shirtless Maverick takes your breath away.