Free Blue Skies by Adrianne Byrd

drew a fair amount of curious glances in their direction—including Jett’s though he marched several feet ahead of them.
    Jett’s dark gaze scanned over her body for the briefest of seconds, but it was long enough to short-circuit every system in her body. When his attention turned away another tide of disappointment nearly wiped her out.
    “Could care less my ass,” Niecy’s snickered as she dogged Sydney’s heels toward housing. “One would have to be blind, deaf, and struck dumb not to notice the sexual tension flowing between you and Mr. ‘They call me Jett because I like anything fast.’”
    Sydney laughed again which only weaken the effect of her denials. “Lt. Colton is an egoistical sexist-”
    “Bastard. Yeah, yeah, I know. The whole class knows.” Niecy giggled as they entered their housing building. “Besides I’m not suggesting until death do you part-”
    “You just want me to get laid.”
    “No, no.”
    Sydney rolled her eyes while she slid her key into her lock.
    “Okay, well—maybe,” Niecy admitted. “But by all means not with Colton. What about Lt. Johnson? I think he has the hots for you.”
    “What?” Sydney asked surprised.
    “C’mon. Don’t tell me that you haven’t noticed.”
    “I-I...”
    “See women like you make me sick,” Niecy declared with disgust. “Beautiful, low maintenance women who don’t notice all the men panting after them.” She crossed her arms. “I practically have to be set on fire to get noticed.”
    “That’s not true,” Sydney tapped her on the shoulder. “You’re very pretty.”
    “Yeah, thanks.” Niecy shrugged and returned to the subject at hand. “Johnson is the guy for you. He’s tall, handsome, and he rarely smiles—just like you.”
    “Very funny.”
    “Oh, come on. Let’s go out. I promise you’ll have fun.”
     
     
    “So what’s the real story between you and Serious?” Lt. Jim “Weasel” Hawley, another member of 414 th , asked Jett as they cruised toward famous Palms Casino.
    “What do you mean?”
    “Why do you keep letting her humiliate you in class? You two have a love thang going on or something?”
    Jett rolled his eyes as he shifted in the passenger seat of Jim’s black Explorer.
    “Don’t get me wrong. I think Serious is hot, too, but don’t you think you might be carrying things a little too far?”
    “Last I checked, I wasn’t the only person Captain Garrett and Post were humiliating in the squadron.”
    “No, you’re just the only one standing in front of the classroom castrating himself. That shit ain’t cool, man—unless you’re laying the pipe down fast and heavy on the girl.”
    Jett balled his hand and shot Hawley a glare of warning.
    “Hell, if you’re not hitting it, then I’m definitely going to make a move. Hell, if you ask me-”
    “Which I haven’t.”
    “A good tumble is what the girl needs. Hell, a few of the guys have a little pool going.”
    Jett balled his other hand. “What sort of pool?”
    Weasel cackled while he kept his eyes on the road. “You know what kind of pool. Of course the only question the group has is whether you are doing all this egoistical sexist bastard routine as a way of biting in our action. You’re more than welcome to toss a few dollars into the pool yourself.”
    The urge to kick Weasel’s ass didn’t wane when Jett counted to ten or twenty; but somewhere around the number fifty, he realized that he had no real relationship with Sydney Garrett and he couldn’t order a squadron of gambling bastards to stay away from her--not that any of them stood a better chance of thawing the block of ice around her than he did. Of course, he didn’t like the idea of them trying either.
    He exhaled a frustrated breath. All he wanted to do tonight was to forget about the insufferable ace pilot and before he could he could even execute his plan, he was submerged in thoughts and plans on how to protect her from cads like Weasel.
    “So what do you say, Jett?