Page 4 of Soaring and Saucy

“Oh no!” the woman with brown, tightly curled hair asked dramatically, reaching out to lay a hand on his chest. “What happened?”

“I had to MacGyver my instruments and bank to the right just to…” Shellac’s voice continued.

Lance tried to keep from laughing. He listened to the slew of lies, exaggeration, and garbage falling from the other man’s mouth. They never went out alone, and if his engine had been failing – the entire ship would have known about it with a mass of activity as everyone prepped for a rough landing… but it worked in the movies and on television. Sliding into the group, he grinned at Shellac – who winked at him and bumped fists.

“Are you telling them about the last run?” Lance asked, pitching underhanded to his friend to make the whopping tall tale somewhat believable enabling the man to pick up a girl or two. Everyone had to have goals. He wasn’t sure what his own were yet, which was dangerous, leading him here… doing keg stands.

Like a loser, he thought silently, only to hear a clear, feminine voice that seemingly cut through the noise of the room and the chatter of his own mind. It was like a waterfall sluicing through the dull roar and felt peaceful, beckoning him forward.

“Your friend is a movie buff,” the woman nearby said softly, catching his attention. “Anyone who has seen Dunkirk knows he’s putting himself in that scene where Tom Hardy is trying to keep his plane in the air. Lucky for him, Natalie and Lila don’t like docudramas.”

“Don’t spoil it for him,” he whispered loudly, holding his finger to his lips as he looked over his shoulder at the woman with intelligent eyes – and paused.

Smart girls were his kryptonite and this one screamed ‘nerdy’ to him. Oh yeah, slap a pair of glasses on her, some thigh-high stockings pinching into a pair of soft thighs, and she’d be that dreamy hot librarian that he was always fantasizing about in his bunk.

“He’s trying so hard to look tough.”

“That he is,” she smirked and pretended to zip her lips.

Nice, he thought distractedly. She’s smart and a female wingman for her buddies. I like it.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked easily.

“Can I buy you a cup of coffee?” she retorted, pointing at Pasteur, who was doing a keg stand now. “You might need something to keep you going through the night if you guys are playing this hard so early in the evening.”

“Oh man,” he chuckled, grinning and slid onto the barstool beside her. “A movie buff, a wingman, exceedingly witty, and not afraid to let it show – can we be besties?” he teased playfully, holding out his hand to shake hers as she tossed back her head and laughed at him. “I’m Trophy – and you are?”

“Not anywhere close to a trophy?” she retorted, smiling and shaking his hand. He held onto her hand, admiring her soft hands and how long her fingers were, with clear polish on her nails. He liked a woman that was real without trying so hard. She was checking off every box in him – some he didn’t know he needed checked off either.

“Me neither, honestly… it was a twisted joke in flight school. That’s my call sign that they gave me when they said I acted like I was top of the class, and in truth, I was barely passing.”

“So, they give you guys nicknames to mock you?”

“Usually,” he grinned. “See that man over there throwing back shots of tequila by the guy that looks like Lurch from the Addam’s Family…” and her laughter rang with delight down his spine as he leaned closer to her. “That guy’s name is Tic-Tak.”

“And does he enjoy eating Tic-Tacs?”

“Nope. He’s got big ol’ white Chiclet teeth that look like Tic-Tacs,” he grinned as she laughed again, smiling at him. “I think I’d like that coffee if you’re game?”

“I am.”

“’Sup player,” one of the women said sliding over to him and brazenly putting her arm around his shoulders. Normally, he would have loved this aggressive move because it was a clear-cut signal of what would be happening later… but for some reason, this just grated on his nerves. Maybe it was the way his little librarian froze or the pained look in her chocolate eyes. Something struck him the wrong way, and he didn’t appreciate it in the slightest.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” he said simply, pulling the drunken woman off of him. “I’m talking to someone right now.” Only to see the disbelieving look on her face as she laughed wildly, pointing at the girl beside him.

“Her? You’re holding out for her?”

“Lila, please…” the woman hissed, and her face was flushing brightly with embarrassment. “Please don’t.”

“Oh honey,” the woman named Lila continued laughing, now laying a hand on his arm and his new acquaintance’s shoulder. He really needed to get his little Librarian’s name – and get rid of this lush, realizing that Lila was drunker than he first thought, making a scene. “You don’t want that…”

“Lila, stop.”

“He doesn’t know?” she drawled, and one eyelid sagged while the other was wide open as she slurred.

“Know what?” Trophy asked, knowing he was falling into a trap.

“Don’t encourage her. Lila, please just sit down, and I’ll get you some coffee or water…”

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