The Hard Deck was packed that night—fighter pilots shouting over pool tables, music thumping under the warm California sky, and the smell of jet fuel still clinging to Bob’s flight suit. He never liked crowds much, but Phoenix had dragged him out after another long day at Top Gun.

“Come on, Bob,” she said, nudging him toward the bar. “You need to loosen up. You’ve been flying like a robot all week.”

He was halfway through politely refusing when he froze.

You were there—across the room, laughing with a group of aviators, your smile just like he remembered. Same eyes. Same laugh. Same spark in the way you leaned against the bar like you owned the place.

Bob’s heart stuttered. He hadn’t seen you since high school—since the night everything between you fell apart.

You’d both been Navy brats, best friends turned first loves. But you wanted more than a quiet boy with glasses and a head full of stars. And he… well, he didn’t stop you when you walked away.

Now, years later, there you were. A Top Gun candidate. Just like him.

You turned—and your eyes met.

The noise around him vanished. You blinked in surprise, your smile faltering just slightly before settling into something softer. A thousand memories passed between you without a word.