Davidson’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not getting a second chance at this. If you can’t make this work, I’m done with both of you. Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” I answered.

“Definitely, sir,” Carter chimed in.

He shook his head, mumbled something about us being more difficult than toddlers, and excused us. We both put on our covers as we walked out onto the flight line, the Alabama sun warding off the January chill.

“What happened?” Josh asked, jogging over with Grayson.

“We’re still in,” Carter answered.

“I didn’t ask you,” Josh snapped.

Carter scoffed. “Jesus. What the hell is it with you guys? I’m still your class leader, one of the only other lieutenants in our class, and you still can’t—”

“Can’t what?” Josh interrupted. “Respect someone who has zero sense of loyalty? You wouldn’t last a day in a real platoon.”

“And what the hell would you know about it?” Carter shot back. “I’ve spent the last four years of my life dedicating myself to the military.”

Josh shook his head. “Un-fucking-believable.” He flipped Carter off and headed to his assigned helicopter.

“What?” Carter asked.

“He’s already got a tour in Afghanistan and a Purple Heart, you fucktard,” Grayson answered. I wasn’t sure what caught me more off guard, Carter having no clue about Josh, or Grayson swearing.

Carter tensed. “Watch your language.” Apparently for Carter, it was the swearing.

“Or what?” he added, his massive arms folded across his chest. Grayson wasn’t someone I’d ever want to tangle with, not just because of his size—the guy was impossible to get a read on. “You’ll knock your pretty little ring on the table and act like that entitles you to lead us?”

“It does!”

Grayson laughed, sending my holy-shit meter off the charts. “Get over yourself, Carter. You have a West Point education—good for you. But our date of rank is exactly the same, and just because my ring is from the Citadel doesn’t make you any more fucking special.”

Carter’s jaw dropped, and I found mine in the same state. “Man, you went to the Citadel?” I asked. Holy shit, I really knew next to nothing about him.

Grayson shrugged his shoulders at me with a definite hint of humor in his eyes, then turned to follow Josh. “Want to know what’s going to kill you now, Carter?”

“You’re probably going to tell me,” Carter spat back.

“Wondering which one of us they really asked to be class leader first,” he called over his shoulder.

Carter deflated like Grayson had stuck a pin in him, and I whistled low. “Damn.”

“Get to the aircraft, Bateman. Let’s get this run-up started,” Carter said.

I removed the engine cover and shook my head at the remove before flight flags that marked it. Duh. Carter was quiet as we checked off procedures and volunteered to let me fly first—something he never did.

As I took off from the airfield, Carter in the backseat, our instructor fired out an easy 5&9 question on fuel limitations. “Carter?” he prompted when he didn’t offer a response.

For the first time since I’d met him, Carter got the answer wrong.

Shit. I was going to be late for dinner with Paisley. I pulled into my drive, hitting my brakes so hard that my bag slid off the passenger seat and hit the floorboards. I killed the ignition, grabbed the bag, and made it through the front door in record time, even managing to toss Mrs. King a wave as she made an offhanded comment on the landscaping. Again.

Lady, it’s February. Hit me up in April, for crying out loud.

“What’s on fire?” Grayson asked from the kitchen as I kicked the door shut.

“I’m wicked late,” I yelled on the way to my room. I dropped my helmet bag by my dresser and stripped out of my uniform before throwing open my closet doors. I grabbed the first collared shirt I saw but paused when I saw Paisley’s sweatshirt hanging next to it.

A wide smile spread across my face, and I stroked my fingers down the sleeve. I liked seeing her stuff there next to mine. The girl was perpetually cold, and it seemed easiest for her to keep a few things here. Like a few sets of clothing, a toothbrush, a hairbrush…that kind of thing. Josh had recommended giving her a drawer or something, but that seemed official, and a little over a month into a relationship wasn’t exactly “official” territory. Then again, what the hell did I know? I’d never been in a relationship before, but I liked it.

This was the happiest I ever remembered being. I was staying in flight school, still in the race for top of the OML, and I was so in love with Paisley that my heart threatened to jump ship when I thought about her.

Life was pretty damn perfect.

I dressed quickly and shoved my wallet into my pocket as I headed down the hallway.

“You out?” Grayson asked from the dining room, his books covering the table.

“Yeah. You doing okay?”

He nodded. “Exams are killing me, but I’ll push through.”

“Thank God.” I leaned on the table and saw his notes. He gave me a what-the-hell look, and I laughed. “Man, I’ve seen you fly. If you had my photographic memory, you’d be kicking my ass.”

He grunted. “Yeah, well, I don’t, so I get to study.” He dismissed me, delving into the books.