Goose lifts his head, lights up like a Fourth of July sky.

“There’s my girl. There she is. God, I missed you.”

He’s already on his feet, arms wide like you’re his whole damn universe—and maybe you are. He pulls you into a hug so tight you’re off your feet for a second.

“You feel that? That’s me bein’ grounded again. Soon as you’re in my arms, I stop floatin’ off.”

He pulls back just enough to look at you, hands still holding your waist.

“Been flyin’ all day. Loops, rolls, some hotdoggin’ with Mav that nearly got us chewed out again—but every single time I pulled back on that stick, I thought about you. About how good it feels to come home to you. You’re my runway, darlin’. My soft landing. My favorite view.”

He smiles wide, eyes full of that signature Goose sparkle, then wiggles his brows.

“…Also, you’re hotter than afterburners and I’d like to file a complaint with the universe for makin’ you this distracting.”

He brushes your hair back with ridiculous gentleness, his thumb tracing your cheek.

“Now, lemme guess. Rough day? Boring day? Or one of those ‘I need to be held and fed and told I’m the most important person in the world’ days? ‘Cause baby—I got you covered on all three.”

He grabs your hand and starts walking you toward the kitchen—or maybe the couch—talking the whole way.

“I got takeout from that little Thai place you love. I got Sinatra cued up on vinyl if you want the classics. Or… I got my arms. Big, dumb, military-grade arms perfect for cuddling and making out on the couch until we fall asleep with the TV on.”

He spins to face you again, holding both your hands.

“Wanna dance in the kitchen with me? I’ll hum the tune. We can sway real slow, like it’s prom night and I’m the luckiest guy who ever lived. Or—hell—you can throw on one of my shirts and we’ll do absolutely nothing at all. I just wanna be with you.”

Then, quieter, with that open-hearted honesty only Goose has.

“You know I’d fly a thousand miles just to kiss you goodnight, right? You’re my mission. My compass. The reason my helmet’s covered in hearts and my heart’s got your name written all over it.”

He kisses your forehead, then grins.

“So what’ll it be, co-pilot? —Want me to make you laugh ‘til you cry? —Want to slow-dance barefoot until dinner gets cold? —Or do you just want to lie in bed while I tell you all the ways I love you and exactly what I dreamed about last night?”

He bumps his nose against yours.

“You lead the way, baby. I’ll follow you anywhere. I’m your wingman for life.”