Beyond What is Given(71)



“Yep.”

Ooh, work-mode Grayson was in effect. “You’ve been at it since I left this morning, and it’s after eight.”

“Yep.” He flipped another card.

“Have you even eaten?”

“Yep.”

“So all day you’ve only studied, eaten, and worked out?” I’d seen him a few hours earlier at the gym. Well, more like salivated over him lifting while I pretended to work.

“Yep.”

“Can you give me more than a one-word answer?”

“Yep.”

I snorted, which earned me a smile.

“I’m fine, babe, just need to get this down. We have a test on Tuesday.”

“It’s Thursday, and a four-day weekend. You’re going to seriously burn out if you go at it like this all weekend.”

He sent me a look so hot my thighs clenched. “Don’t worry, I’ll still have time to study you, too. I’m almost done, I promise.”

“Okay.” I walked back into my room and shut the door, stripping off my work clothes. A shower later, I felt ready to tackle the challenge of Grayson in study mode. It wasn’t that I wanted to distract him, but damn, the man’s brain was going to explode. He seriously had five modes—work mode, study mode, workout mode, sex mode, and sleep mode.

I could at least get him through the last two.

Ten minutes later, I was ready. Thank God we had central air, because there was no way I could have pulled this off in late August without it.

“You about ready?” I asked, peeking my head around his doorframe.

He barely looked up from the cards. “Yeah. Just a couple more minutes. We’ve been in the bag all week, and that stress isn’t doing me any favors.”

I sat on the edge of his giant bed, careful not to disturb the cards. “You doing okay?” Flying was his strong suit. If there was an issue there, his rank would slip, and Jagger was hot on his heels.

He looked up, his beautiful gray eyes a little dim with exhaustion. “Yeah. It’s tough, flying with the cockpit blacked out, but I’m adjusting to the scope. It gives me a pretty bad headache, though, which is killing my study time. Plus we lost Pritchards this week. They pulled him out this morning.”

“I’m sorry. I know you did all you could to help him. Will they transition him to another aircraft?” This was the second pilot his class had lost, and as class leader he took it personally, like he’d failed them.

He raked his fingers over his hair. “I don’t know. I really thought giving him the extra hours would help him.”

“This isn’t your fault, Grayson.” He looked back at the cards. “How about I help you study?”

“Want to quiz me?” His eyebrows shot up like he’d asked if he could have ice cream.

A slow smile spread across my face. “That’s exactly what I had in mind.” I scooped up the cards and then stood at the foot of the bed. “Lean back against the headboard.”

“What?” His forehead puckered. “And why are you in a sweat suit? It’s like ninety-seven degrees out there.”

“You heard me. Lean back against the headboard. I will be happy to quiz you, but you are not allowed to so much as breathe in my direction until you’ve earned it.” I used my most authoritative voice.

“Okay.” He sat back with a playful smirk on his face. Despite what he said, I knew with Grayson I was only in control when he allowed it.

“Good boy.” I grinned and then went for the first card. “Dual engine failure/Low Airspeed and Cruise.”

He lost the smirk, all business. “Autorotate. Chop button—reset only if an engine chop warning message is present. Reset may be accomplished by either crew member. Wing stores jettison—as appropriate.”

“One point for Grayson.” His lips parted as I unzipped my University of Colorado hoodie and tossed it to the ground, leaving me in a tank top and bra underneath.

Understanding lit his eyes, and he leaned forward. “Are you—”

I waggled my finger at him. “Sit back. I’m asking the questions here.”

He did, but every line in his body tensed. I knew that look all too well. He was ready to pounce.

“Autorotation. Both Engines Fail.”

“The cyclic should be adjusted as necessary to attain and maintain the desired airspeed of 77 to 107 KTAS. In autorotation, as airspeed increases above 70-80 KTAS, the rate of descent and glide distance increase significantly. Below 70 KTAS the rate of descent will also increase but glide distance decreases.”

Damn, he really was that good. “Another point for Grayson.” I kicked off my shoes.

“Seriously? Shoes? How is that fair? That answer was worth way more than the shoes.”

My head tilted to the side. “Oh, but I thought you needed more study time?”

His eyes narrowed. “In this case, less is more.”

I quirked an eyebrow but removed my socks, throwing them near my discarded hoodie. “That’s all you get, flyboy.”

“Give me another question.”

Holy shit, the way he looked at me was hot enough to melt my panties. “Ng Limits.”

“105.1 Maximum, Greater than 105.1 Red. 102.3 to 105.1 Transient 12 second limit, Yellow. 63.1 to 102.2 Normal Operation, Green. 63 Minimum engine out warning annunciated—less than 63.0 red with box.”

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