Beached.

Friends in High Places

Maverick pursed his lips and walked closer to us. I looked him right in the eye while Jake went into military mode: board stiff, hands at his sides and looking straight ahead.

Maverick approached Jake's side, facing  the opposite direction. "Tell me about this late-night flight exercise."

Confidently, Jake spun a story about trust building and challenging himself to fly with others. The man never ceased to amaze me. Watching Maverick and Jake interact, they bore a lot of similarities. Maverick is Jake in 25 years, and Jake is Maverick 25 years ago.

That thought piqued my interest in talking to Maverick. He had to have some stories.

"MVP." Maverick's voice interrupted my internal monologue.

Surprisingly, I remembered my moniker. "Maverick?"

"Would you fly with Hangman again?"

"Yes." Maverick had barely finished asking the question before I gave my answer. He asked a couple additional questions in regard to Jake's communication skills, which I answered. Jake never broke his position while Maverick and I conversed.

Finally, Maverick dismissed Jake and bid me farewell. His final note was that Jake needed to report an hour earlier than the rest of the detachment.

We scurried to the hangar where we ditched our flight gear and jogged back to his vehicle. Once in the Bronco, we both sighed and looked at each other. "I think that went well," Jake assessed.

"You'll see what tomorrow brings." I referred to his extra early report time.

He groaned. "That's right around the corner. Let's get you home."

I offered to take a rideshare from the base. Jake was appalled by my suggestion. I stared out the window watching the street lamps speed by, and my ears were soothed by the heaviness of the 80s power ballads seeping through the sound system. Every so often, I'd catch Jake looking at me.

We pulled into the driveway, Jake walked me to the door. I turned to look at him. He was standing very close. "I'd love to invite you in, but..."

He smiled. "That would entirely go against my plan to get at least a couple hours of rest," he finished the statement.

The gap between us closed, and I slid my hands up his chest, and then they came to rest around his neck. His hands found a home on my hips. "I'll accept a good night kiss, though."

I raised an eyebrow. "You'll accept a good night kiss?" I laughed and momentarily looked past him before averting my gaze to his lips. He took my signal and pressed his lips to mine.

It wasn't enough. As he pulled away, I nipped his lower lip. He looked at me in surprise but immediately came back to return the favor. One of his hands ventured north, his fingers tangling in my hair. I moved a hand from his neck to his cheek as our lip-lock continued.

A small moan escaped my lips when Jake turned his attention to my neck. His ensuing smile was like a stamp with each kiss. Gently, I put my palm flat on his chest and pushed him away.

The smolder in his eyes left me very tempted to unlock the door and pull him inside. I bit my lip as we looked at each other. "You should go—it's an early day tomorrow," I reminded him. The wheels were turning, and he was considering staying. I tugged on both sides of his shirt to straighten it out. "You're here on special assignment. Maverick already covered your ass once. I'm not sure he'd do it twice."

He knew I was right. He pulled me in for a hug and kissed my forehead. I felt brain cells leave my cranium. Forehead kisses were my kryptonite.

Untangling himself, Jake stepped back, but kept a hold of my hand. He looked me in the eye as he kissed my knuckles. "Next time."

I smiled. "Next time." He released my hand but carefully descended the stairs still looking at me. "Good night, Jake."

"Good night, Kyle."

I watched him as he got into his vehicle. He revved the engine as I made my way inside. Through the sidelight, I watched as his taillights faded away.