Page 163 of GAF Factor

“Who needs a ticket when the company has a plane?”

“A company plane. Not a plane for my use.”

“But you said danger. And danger for a lady that you know—who needs protection. And what do we do? We protect. Sounds like a job to me.”

I thought it over, then slammed the door. “Yeah, okay. But only because I need to get out there. Who’s flying?”

“Max.”

“That figures,” I muttered.

“What figures?”

“Well, Scottie wouldn’t willingly go up in a plane unless it was for a job. What were you doing, anyway?” I asked, glancing over at him.

“Testing a theory.”

“Which was?”

“I can’t tell you. If I did, it wouldn’t come true.”

I bit back the urge to roll my eyes at him. “Are theories like wishes now?”

“You never know, which is why I can’t tell you. Not until I collect more data.”

He groaned as he pulled the helmet from his head. “Man, I really dented that thing in.”

I glanced over at the helmet, seeing one side completely caved in. How his head survived was beyond me, but then again, how FNG survived anything was a mystery.

“Yeah, it’s good to have a team at last,” he sighed, leaning back in his seat. “Not that we go out on many jobs yet. We’re still getting a feel for things,” he said, looking over at me. “But we work well together.”

“Eat a lot of Funyuns and shawarma?”

“Not really. You know, Fox isn’t really good at sharing. Come to think of it, neither is Max.”

“And what do you share?”

He grinned at me. “Stories, man. I share my stories.”

“I’m sure they’re thrilled with that.”

“Fox is. He never gave up on me. I even have one of his milk containers. Did you know they’re collector’s items now? Yep, I heard a few museums were shopping around. Small ones, of course. But still, that’s pretty impressive. I’m a celebrity in a very small circle of people.”

“Small,” I huffed. “Try miniscule.”

“There’s even been talk about an interview, but…” He shook his head. “I don’t know if it’s the right move for my career.”

“And what does Honey think of all this?”

“Honey? Oh, she’s all on board with it. Yeah, she’s—” He stopped, pressing his fist to his mouth. “I’m sorry,” he said, sucking in a breath that sounded way too much like a whimper.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing. It’s just…I promised myself I wouldn’t cry.”

I rolled my eyes. After all the shit I’d dealt with over the last few months, an emotional male was not something I wanted to deal with.

He sucked in a deep breath and blew it out. “She…I think she’s leaving me, man.”

---