The Spiral Down (The Fall Up #2)(6)

He didn’t look impressed, so I continued.

“I have a degree in engineering, but I knew the only job I ever wanted was in the sky. I’ve been living that dream for over a decade now. I promise you couldn’t be in better hands today.”

“A decade,” he scoffed. “A decade? Craig has been flying for almost thirty years. And you want me to put my life in the hands of a novice? No f*cking way.”

It wasn’t professional in the least, but I couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, he does have me on hours clocked. However, I have him in pretty much every other way possible. I’m younger. My mind is sharper. My reaction time is quicker. If there was any kind of problem, a half a second could make all the difference. I have twenty-twenty vision—no contacts or glasses needed. I’m in perfect health, so you won’t have to worry about chest pains or any other kind of illness while we are up there. And above and beyond all that, I own the sky.” I pointed to the ceiling. “You may feel safer on solid ground, but up there, that’s my home.”

It was his turn to laugh. “You own the sky?” He turned to Carter and laughed again. “Who the hell is this guy? No. Just. No.”

“Jesus,” Carter swore at the ceiling.

Turning on a heel, he called out, “Thanks, but no, thanks, Maverick.”

After rolling my eyes at his nickname, I gave my attention back to Carter. “Look, don’t call Jackson. I’ll call one of the other guys and see if they can get here in time. I’m sorry. I didn’t know he was going to freak like that.”

Holding my gaze, he banged on the glass of the vending machine, freeing my chips. “We have no time for that shit. Be on the plane in fifteen minutes.”

“You sure that’s going to be a good idea? I’m not real fond of emergency landings due to a passenger trying to claw their way out of a window.”

“He’ll be fine. Just fly the damn plane”—he paused, and a patronizing smile grew on his lips—“Maverick.”

“Awesome,” I breathed with sarcasm.

I watched him walk away in the same direction Henry had left. Before the door clicked, I heard him mock, “I own the sky.”

Out-f*cking-standing.





“SEE? THAT WASN’T so bad.” I tossed Carter a weak smile when the plane slowed to a roll.

He glared at me. “My leg is numb.”

Quickly removing my death grip on his thigh, I replied, “You have health insurance, right? Maybe you should get that checked out.”

His glare transformed into a scowl.

After my mini meltdown in front of our pilot, Carter had literally dragged me onto the plane. It wasn’t the first time he’d ever had to do it. And it definitely wouldn’t be the last. But, in the end, he’d been right. I was fine. Drunk after having chugged three more gin and tonics, but fine nonetheless.

The flight had been remarkably uneventful. Which really just meant it’d been only mildly terrifying. Our pilot had managed to get us on the ground fifteen minutes ahead of schedule. I was still going to be late for the show, but at least my openers wouldn’t have to extend their set by more than a few songs. Well, assuming I could sober up in time.

“Let’s go,” Carter announced as soon as the door was open.

“How far to the venue?” I slurred, scrubbing my hands over my face.

“Less than an hour. You need coffee,” he said, snapping his fingers at Susan.

She appeared seconds later with a steaming paper cup filled to the brim.

“Thanks.”

She smiled warmly, patting me on the arm. “I put a bottled water and a sandwich in your bag too. Eat it. The food will help.”

I returned her smile and draped an arm around her shoulders. “Any chance you’re single, Susan? My current wife is failing on his wifely duties.” I glanced at Carter and waggled my eyebrows.

She shook her head and slapped my chest. “Have a good concert. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Fantastic. Another flight. I can’t wait,” I deadpanned.

Carter nabbed his carry-on and tossed my backpack to me. His eyes traveled over me before he blew out a loud breath. “You look like shit. Let’s hope Macy can work a miracle on the way over.”

“You sure know how to make a man feel good about himself,” I smarted before taking a sip of the coffee.

He was probably right. God knows I felt like shit.

Shrugging my backpack on, I followed him to the exit.

“How’d it go back there?” I heard Ethan, or whatever the hell our pilot’s name was, ask, but Carter’s massive body blocked him from my view.

“Great. Thanks, man,” Carter replied, patting him on the shoulder and then stepping out of the small door.

Focusing on not spilling my coffee, I shuffled after him.

“I see you survived unscathed,” the pilot said to me as I passed, his voice thick with humor.

Keeping my gaze down, I dropped a pair of sunglasses over my eyes even though the sun had set hours earlier. “Yeah. Thanks. And…ya know, sorry about earlier.” It was a halfhearted apology, but my mind was on my show and how the hell I was planning to pull it off if I didn’t get my shit together—soon.

“It’s no problem. I should be the one apologizing. That joke was out of line.”