Cowboy Casanova

12

I sat in chairs with the rest of my Top Gun graduates, near the pool. It wasn't too hot out today and the humidity had taken the back seat, so it felt nice. We all wore our dress whites as Viper talked, congratulating us on our accomplishment. This was the next step in our careers; we were the best of the best and this would get us on the best missions. Hangman sat in the back, wearing a smile as his family sat near him. I recognized them from last time, though now they were a little quieter, since it was a smaller crowd. There were only 20 of us, maybe and I sat next to Bradley and Natasha. I paid no attention as we all shook hands with Viper and a few other commanders, one of which was Admiral Tom 'Iceman' Kazansky. When he saw me, he smiled, but we kept our interactions professional. I didn't need anyone thinking I was a nepo-baby. Admiral Kazansky was the one who was announcing this year's Top Gun winner. "On March 3, 1969 the United States Navy established an elite school for the top one percent of its pilots. Its purpose was to teach the lost art of aerial combat and to ensure that the handful of men and women who graduated were the best fighter pilots in the world. They succeeded. Top Gun was created to teach ACM. Air Combat Maneuvering. Dogfighting. Richthofen, Rickenbacker, Galland, Rudel, Bong would envy us. We do just what they did, but we do it past the speed of sound. The pilots at Top Gun have to be dangerous, fast, and better than everyone else. Which is why this year's Top Gun trophy is being awarded to Lieutenant Nicole Mitchell. Callsign: Banshee." I had a bright smile on my face as I basically ran up the stairs to take the trophy from Iceman's hands. I shook his hand, posing for pictures.

"Thank you, sir." He winked at me.

"You deserved it, kid. You made your father proud. And me." I smiled even wider as I held the trophy high above my head as the rest of the class cheered. Hangman caught my eye and we both nodded. But that was the most interaction we had with each other since the accident. Bradley and Nat were the first ones to hug me and congratulate me on the win.

"I did it. I did it for Kelly. I did it for your dad." Bradley hugged me tightly, mumbling something that I couldn't hear because I saw Hangman walk up to us. I let go of Bradley and when he realized why, his smile fell as he glared at Hangman.

"Congratulations Banshee." I nodded, shaking his hand, trying to be a good sport. But I felt that damn electric touch again and pulled my hand away from his quickly. He hid the look of hurt with a smile. "You deserved it." He looked like he wanted to say something else but his family called him over and with the looks Bradley was giving him, I would've wanted to leave too if I were him. I hit his chest lightly.

"Knock it off Bradley. It's over. I won." Bradley mumbled something under his breath and both Natasha and I glared at him. He rolled his eyes, folding his arms across his chest.

"Congrats. Bagman is a lot of things, but this time, he is right. You deserved this. You were by far the best." I smiled at her and gave her a hug. I knew that after today, we would all go our separate ways again, but I was trying not to think about that. I watched my name get put on the plaque and I felt proud of myself.

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    All of us were given new orders on the spot at graduation, needing to be prepared for where we would be leaving for the next day. I watched Bradley and Natashsa's face fall as they realized they would be separated. We spent our last night at the Hard Deck. After a few hours, Nat and Bradley left together. Maybe it was to talk, maybe it was to fuck. I didn't ask questions. I just said goodbye and told them to call or text me when they landed tomorrow. I handed Coyote a beer, trading me for the pool cue. Hangman was sitting in the corner, drinking and talking to the ladies. I walked past him and leaned against the table, examining my shot options; none of them looked easy. Walking around the table, I tried to get a different angle for a shot I thought I might be able to make. The change didn't make a difference, so without any more delay, I bent over the table and took the shot, making it.

"Well, well, what is going on here?" It was a deep smooth southern drawl coming from behind me. I bit my lips together to prevent a scowl from creeping onto my face.

"Bagman," I replied bitterly. Hangman rolled his eyes at my remark. I had turned around, looking at him now, surprised to see he was also in civilian clothing; the whole team was tonight. His white T-shirt clung tightly to his chest and biceps, accentuating his muscles.

"Hello, beautiful." He winked at me. I shook my head at him. I wasn't sure what to do. Maybe I had overreacted, but I knew I had to stand my ground. He got me hurt, but it also wasn't completely his fault.

"Hey," I replied, turning back to the pool table as Coyote made his shot. It was a pretty even game.

"I might finally win, Hangman." Coyote smirked, gloating. I shot him a glare.

"I have got an idea." Hangman spoke, standing next to Coyote at the table. He was looking directly at me.

"This outta be great." Coyote rolled his eyes. Coyote left, handing the pool stick to Hangman as he went to grab more drinks for us.

"I'll play you." He bent over, hitting the striped ball into the hole, while looking directly at me. "If you win, you tell me what to do, and I'll do it. Whatever you want." He hit another ball in, moving closer to me. "But if I win, you let me explain myself and apologize for my behavior and I take you home for the night." I raised my eyebrows. That wasn't a half bad idea.

"I think I deserve the apology either way." I negotiated, moving closer to him. "But I thought that we agreed. That night was a one time thing." He looked down at my lips.

"We already broke that rule, remember?" I smirked at him, remembering very well. "Deal?" I looked at his stretched out hand.

"Deal." We shook hands and reset the table, starting the game over. He was arrogant, that's for sure. But I had seen him play pool far too many times now. He was damn good at it. Probably better than me, but I wouldn't tell him that. It wouldn't help me. I picked up my glass, still half full, and downed the liquor before turning to the table. I had never been a big believer in liquid courage, but if there was any time to start believing in it, that would be right now. "Alright, Hangman. I hope you are prepared to lose what I can only assume is a perfect winning streak." I said, coming to lean on the table next to his stool.

"Stop," He grinned, turning to face me, "Please, call me Jake. I've lost before, only on rare occasions involving illness or fatigue." I rolled my eyes.

"I only call you Jake when I like you. You have to earn it." He smirked, leaning close.

"You were screaming Jake when I was fucking you sensless the other night." My breath hitched in my throat as I pushed him off of me.

"You want to break?" I asked him, ignoring his statement as best as I could. He moved off the stool and headed towards the table.

And just like that, the game was on.

The longer we played, the closer we got to each other. The tension was undeniable. It was a relatively even game, but we both kept trying to distract each other with unfair tactics. I would stand near him when he would go to take a shot, making sure that he got a good look down my low cut tank top. He would stand near me and lightly touch my arm or my back wherever I was trying to take a shot. I hated that he had this effect on me. The game seemed to fly by compared to the previous rounds. Before we knew it, only a few balls were left on the table, and it was my turn. "You're going to need more oomph in your shot, if you're going to make that." He commented, moving closer to me. "Here, let me show you," His hand slid down my back sending shivers up my spine.

"Stop distracting me." I whispered, trying to take the shot. He leaned over me, his hand laying on top of mine as I gripped the cue. I couldn't focus on what he was saying and I couldn't focus on the ball. I pressed my ass into him and this started being less about the game. The ball went wildly into the wrong direction and I huffed as I turned back to him, frustrated. "Cheater." He winked at me as he sunk his ball into the corner pocket and then perfectly sunk the 8-ball into another pocket, winning the game. He looked at me, moving closer. He moved a hair behind my ear, both of us were smiling. He stepped close, pushing me against the pool table, chest to chest with him.

"Looks like I win."

"Claim your prize then, Jake." The longer I looked into his emerald green eyes, the foggier my head got. Jake took half a step back, letting me pass him. His hand reached out to grab my own, interlacing his fingers with mine; he led me out the door. I didn't object or pull away, just let him lead the way. If I was honest with myself, I would have followed him anywhere he led.