Chapter Two
MILES
PAST
I sigh as I push open the heavy wooden door with the words Bub’s pub scrawled on the front.
I didn’t even have time to take my uniform off before making my way to the nearest bar I could find from my summer house. Even if it’s one with a slightly questionable name.
That’s a lie. I had time, I just didn’t feel like pulling a beer from my fridge and drinking it in the silence of my own company.
No, tonight I want noise around me. I want to fall into other people’s conversations, listen to stories about other people’s lives instead of mine, even if it’s from a distance, from down the other end of the bar.
I got demoted today.
Well, that’s kind of dramatic. I was asked to ‘take a break’. For the sake of my sanity, of course, when really, the only time I truly feel sane is when I’m thousands of feet up in the air.
They don’t think I’m insane, at least I don’t think they do. My boss is just convinced I need to take some time for myself before I burn out. He and the chief think I’m overworking myself. Maybe I am. But what I know is that the last thing I want is a break .
A bell chimes above my head as I walk into the dim space, my ears tuning into the sound of a soccer game playing from the big TV in the corner. Good, at least I can distract my brain by watching grown men roll around on the ground like toddlers when they so much as stub their toe.
I take another slow step, allowing my senses time to adjust to the smell of stickiness floating through the still air. That sounds weird, but I swear I can smell when surfaces are sticky, and this place reeks of it.
My eyes catch on a head of dark curls, and my steps falter as my eyes roam from the curls to a pair of soft hazel eyes that are intently watching the man in front of her, who looks to be telling her a story.
Something tells me that no matter how boring that story might be, those hazel eyes would always give you the impression that it’s the most interesting thing she’s ever heard.
Hazel eyes is wearing black from head to toe, her dark curls topping it off, making her olive skin pop in this dim lighting.
She throws her head back as she laughs at whatever the man has said, her pink lips widening in a smile, and by the time she lifts her head again to look at him, I’m wishing she would do it again.
What the fuck am I experiencing right now?
Her gaze flicks sideways and connects with mine for what feels like a millisecond before her attention is back on her companion.
I see her full eyebrows draw together ever so slightly before she looks back at me, the ghost of a smile lingering on her face. “Can I help you, hotshot?”
I’m frozen in place. My feet cemented to the floor. I look down at them, almost as if I’m checking to see whether I’ve walked into some trap.
I shake my head, my lips curling up at the corners of their own volition. “What?”
She smiles, and it’s like she lights up the entire place with the sparkle in her eyes as she does. “You look like you could use a beer.”
“Uh…” I smooth a hand down the front of my uniform before realizing I’m still wearing my hat. No wonder she called me hotshot.
I pull it off my head and run a hand through my hair. “Yeah, thank you.” And then I move. With my feet now free of their trap, I walk towards where she stands behind the bar. “A hazy, please.”
“Sure,” she says, dropping down behind the bar before popping back up again and placing a cold one on a paper coaster in front of me.
I grab the neck of the bottle, twirling it around, letting the drops of water from the outside of the glass find a home in the palm of my hand.
I look up into those hazel eyes, and from here I can see just how beautiful they are, just how bright the green ring around her pupil shines. It’s like looking at a painting.
“Thank you,” I say mindlessly, my attention left drowning in her eyes.
“You’re welcome,” she says quietly.
I’m aware that I’m staring, but she’s staring back, and I can’t tear my eyes away from her. Not even once her gaze drops from my face as she wipes her hands down the apron slung haphazardly around her waist.
She looks like she’s about to walk away, but she pauses. “You know, I always thought pilots would take their little hats off as soon as they were out of the terminal.” Her eyes meet mine once again, her voice sweet with a hint of sarcasm.
It takes me three full breaths before I’m capable of answering her. “Yeah, no, I, uh… I usually do, I just forgot.” I gesture toward the hat, as if that explains anything. I feel unnaturally flustered under her attention.
Her nostrils flare as the corner of her mouth quirks up. “Yeah, that’s what we’ll go with.”
A laugh escapes from my lungs before I can breathe it back in and hide it away. “No, seriously. ”
“You know, we don’t do service discounts here,” she says, her eyebrows raising. But her eyes hold a sparkle of amusement.
“I don’t think that’s even a thing. I’m pretty sure that’s more for men in the military,” I mumble.
“Or women,” she says firmly.
Something about the way she’s looking at me makes me want to beam my brightest smile at her. “Or women, yeah.”
She nods quietly, fiddling with the ties on her apron. “Not looking for discounts then, just compliments, huh?”
“No, I?—”
“The hat is for picking up chicks, isn’t it? I bet they all flock to you when you look like this, right? Especially with the hat.” She picks it up and places it on her head and I nearly fall off my stool. She looks adorable, even if it was an entirely bold move to take it from me.
I just shake my head at her incredulously. You would think my tongue has been cut out the way I can’t form a sentence.
“No need to deny it…” She raises an eyebrow at me, waiting for me to fill in the blank.
“Miles,” I say.
She barks a laugh. “That’s fitting.” I roll my eyes out of instinct. I couldn’t count on one hand the number of times people have talked to me about Miles Teller from Top Gun. “Do you play beach volleyball shirtless too?” she asks.
“If you want me to.” Why did I just say that?
She sticks her tongue in her cheek as if trying to keep her smile hidden away.
“Well, Miles,” she says, tipping the edge of my hat in my direction, “it works.” Then she winks at me and walks to the other end of the bar, wearing my hat.
And I spend the rest of my night with my eyes glued on her hazel ones, even when they’re not looking at me.