Page 95 of Fly Boy
Her laughter follows me as I walk straight into the cockpit and take a seat, focusing on finishing the pre-flight checks, my body alight with endorphins and adrenaline. Soft footsteps have me looking up from my checklist as Pippa walks into the flight deck. Her fingers brush over the back of my head and play with my hair before dropping down on the empty co-pilot seat. Technically, she shouldn’t be here, up front with me, but I can’t find it in me to tell her to leave. I want her here. Seeing the world like I do from thirty-five thousand feet high.
I keep one ear of my headset off once we're in the air—not that she wants to talk—as she clutches the side window, her reflection in the glass more beautiful than the fading sunlight. Her mouth is parted, her eyes wide with awe as she gazes out before her at the clouds, the expanse of sky, the world a mere speck below. It’s a sight I’ve taken for granted. Until now.
She turns to look over her shoulder, the glow from the instruments lighting up her face, the sight making my mouth dry. My hands grip the yolk, my thoughts far away from theflight path back to Westchester. Her lashes cast shadows on her cheeks as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, and the sweet scent of her shampoo or perfume or whatever, filters into my senses.
I can’t keep pretending that what we have is enough. The lingering glances, the stolen touches, the Saturday nights spent under the cloak of darkness. Pippa is everything I want, but everything I can’t have. Not like this. Not when we’re hiding in the shadows, sneaking around behind her father’s back.
I’ve wanted to try to find a way to make this work…but now Ineedto.
I can’t keep working for him. I can’t keep lying to the man who’s given me more than I could have ever imagined in such a short time. I can’t keep loving her in secret, pretending I don’t know what she tastes like, sounds like, looks like when I’m with her. Pretending I’ve never felt as complete as I do when I’m with her. Pretending that I’m not in love with her.
Pippa deserves to be loved in the light, out in the open.
But you love your job.
There will be more families to fly. More CEOs to work for. The view outside a cockpit window is the same regardless of what craft I’m in. But the view inside this jet, the one right beside me, is the only one I can’t stand the thought of losing.
Because, there will only ever beher.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Butterflies erupt in mystomach, the feeling a different kind of nervousness I’m used to as I stare at the front of the shop. The sun blasts off the window, the gold writing glittering as I readInksignia.
“You don’t have to get one, y’know? It’s okay if you’re scared.”
I turn to glare at my tattooed-covered pilot. “I’m not scared. I want one.”
He smirks, pushing open the door, the overhead bell jingling as we walk inside. Every wall is covered in previous designs, bright and colorful, monochromatic and edgy. A guy with plugs in both ears, two eyebrow piercings, and a lip ring comes out from behind a desk, drawing Wyatt into his chest in a dude hug.
“It’s been too long, my friend,” he says, running a hand over his bald, inked head. “What are we doing today?”
Wyatt points to a piece that’s faded from time. “Just an infill.”
The man hums thoughtfully. “I remember doing this the first time. But it was an outline, yeah?”
“Yeah, but I’d like it to be white if that works?”
“Sure.” The artist turns his attention to me. “And what about you, little lady? Here for a tattoo or just being the supportive”—he glances at Wyatt—“girlfriend and here to hold his hand?”
He laughs, slapping Wyatt’s shoulder as Wyatt takes my hand, tugging me closer. “Brian, this is Pippa. She’s here for her first tat.”
I don’t miss the way he doesn’t correct Brian’s assumption that I’m his girlfriend, and I don’t know if that’s on purpose or not, but it doesn’t stop the warmth that radiates all over.
Wyatt’s girlfriend…
I like that.
Maybe we need to define what this is.
I want to be introduced as his girlfriend. He’s asked me before who owns my pussy…well, now I want him to make it official.
“A newbie,” Brian drawls, nodding appreciatively. “Nice. I think Amber’s free. Is that okay? She can work on Pippa while I work on you.”
I look to Wyatt, wanting his thoughts. “Amber’s great. She’ll take good care of you, baby.”
He presses a kiss to the top of my head as Brian calls out for a girl with long black hair, piercings, and a sleeve.
“Oh, a tattoo virgin,” she says, appearing from the back of the shop, grinning wide, her eyes sweeping over me. “I love it. Where are you thinking about getting your first ink, sweetie?”
