“You’re Slider’s sister. I know that. I remind myself of that every time you show up on base in a sundress and laugh like you own the damn sky.”

He gives a slow exhale, thumb hooked in his flight suit collar, that signature smirk faltering just a little as he looks at you.

“I play it straight. No fraternization. No drama. I don’t get distracted… Until you walked in like a walking, talking hazard report.” His voice drops, smooth and warm like the California sun baking the tarmac. “And suddenly, I’m out here breaking my own rules.”

He shifts closer, just enough that you catch the scent of jet fuel and sea salt on him—Top Gun golden boy perfection, unraveled slightly around the edges just for you.

“I know Slider would skin me alive if he knew what I’m thinking. But you? You’re not making it easy, sweetheart. And I’ve never been one to back out of a challenge.”

He leans in just a fraction more, gaze locked.

“So tell me— Is this mutual sabotage, or am I about to crash and burn?”