Classified (The Elite Book 3)

by Brooke Blaine

  Obviously, in his book, the right thing was to leave his son the hell alone. There. Done. I’d managed to do that with a few angry words, because there was no way Panther would look at me the same way now. And really, did I want him to? I’d spent most of my adult life avoiding anyone who wanted to get too close, and it had worked out for me just fine up until now. If I never spent another day with Panther, I’d be fine.

  Fuck. If that was true, then why did it feel like someone was ripping my heart out of my chest with their bare hands? I hadn’t felt this way since…well, since I got the news about my brother, and that was years ago. I hadn’t cared about anyone but myself in so long that the feeling of loss that came with dismissing Panther came as a shock, but what else was I supposed to do? We were two men on similar but different journeys, and I didn’t have the first clue how to navigate something like that. How was it even possible? If we were sent six thousand miles away from each other for months and months…well, what then?

  So, yeah, better to cut our losses now, because the inevitable heartbreak would be much worse if I allowed this shit to carry on.

  I ran my hands through the sand, grabbing a fistful and letting the grains fall through my fingers. It was exactly how my relationship with Panther felt: time sifting through my fingers, running out faster than I thought possible, and all the while the walls were closing in, suffocating me under the pressure.

  Damn it. This was why I didn’t do relationships. Why I kept a wall between me and anyone else. This empty, hollow feeling that swallowed you up like a black hole. I felt lost, alone, and there was only one reason for that. I’d gotten used to having someone around. No, not just someone—Grant.

  Somewhere between that first night in the bar and now, that sexy, straight-arrow flyboy had broken through all my usual defenses. He’d looked past my reputation, loud mouth, and bravado and seen the real me.

  I couldn’t remember the last time someone had cared enough to dig that deep. We’d each entered this relationship knowing there was an end date, but instead of talking about it, what did I do? I ran at the first sign of trouble because his father had, what? Told me I wasn’t good enough for Panther?

  Since when did I give a shit about what others thought of me? It wasn’t like I didn’t already know Captain Hughes would want anyone other than me to be in love with his son, but that was too damn bad.

  Wait—in love with his son?

  Yes, holy shit… I’m in love with Panther.

  As that realization slammed into me, so did the fact that I was a total fucking idiot. Over the last couple of days, Panther had done everything in his power to get me to open up. He’d backed off, given me space, and still that hadn’t been enough for me to get out of my head.

  No, I’d shoved him all the way out of my life.

  Sure, why not end this now before things got too hard? Use his father’s doubts and disapproval to cover up the real reason I was trying to run. Graduation. I didn’t want to face what was coming. I didn’t want to listen to the man I was in love with—and yes, I was in love with him—tell me he was choosing to take a job a million miles away from me.

  I wanted…what? Panther to give up his dreams? Fuck no. But I sure as hell wanted to be part of them, and that meant I needed to pull my head out of my ass and talk to him. I needed to tell him how I was feeling.

  I dusted off my hands and reached into my pocket for my phone. Nothing like a little self-sabotage to make you reflect on the amazing thing you just fucked up. And I had royally fucked this up.

  I shot off a text. I’m sorry about earlier. Can we talk?

  The blood ringing in my ears was loud enough to block out the crashing waves as I stared at the screen, waiting for some kind of response. When nothing came, I cursed and tried a different angle. I was a total dick. I know. Maybe I could stop by in an hour and you could kick my ass? You don’t even have to be gentle.

  When the response was yet another empty screen, my stomach began to twist around on itself, and I told myself to give it a minute. But after five had passed, I knew nothing was coming. Panther was clearly pissed, so instead of trying another text, I took a deep breath and hit his number. When his phone went straight to voicemail, I cursed.

  Yeah, this wasn’t good. Panther had turned his phone off. If that didn’t scream, I don’t want to fucking talk to you, then I didn’t know what did. But that wasn’t going to stop me. I needed to see him. I needed to talk to him. I needed to explain why I’d been such a fucking douche these last couple of days, and if he wasn’t going to take my call, then I would go bang on his door until he answered.

  I shoved to my feet, brushed the sand off my ass, and hightailed it back to my bike. My heart was hammering and my palms were sweaty, Panther’s silence more effective than words in letting me know just how upset he was.

  I jammed my helmet on my head a little harder than necessary, trying to knock some fucking sense into myself. Then I started up the bike and pulled out onto the main road. As I gunned the engine and roared down the street, I thought over what I would say to Panther when I finally reached the barracks.

  I mean, what could I say? A whole lot of I’m sorry to start with. I had a feeling I’d be apologizing for this for a long time to come. But I also needed to tell him about his father, about what had started all of this, and I wasn’t sure how that part would go over.

  Would Panther agree with him? I was afraid to know the answer.

  As I pulled onto base, I tried to shove aside the nerves that had grown progressively worse on the drive back, telling myself to man the hell up. Panther was a reasonable guy. Surely he’d had moments where he’d let things boil over and get the better of him. In fact, I remembered a time he’d almost knocked my teeth out after I’d taunted him about wanting me.

  Granted, things had been wildly different back then, but the same principles applied…right? Yeah, no. Things were vastly different this time around.

  I should’ve trusted him, talked to him about what his father had said, and then maybe I wouldn’t have panicked about everything else. But instead, I’d let everyone other than Panther get in my head, and I’d pushed away the one I trusted the most.

  Pulling into my parking space, I looked over at his shut door and wondered how exactly this was going to end.

  End… I didn’t like that word, and just thinking about it made my gut clench all over again. I pulled off my helmet and took in several deep breaths. When I felt I could stand without falling on my ass, I climbed off my bike and headed toward Panther’s room.

  Just knock on his door and tell him you’re sorry. It seemed so easy when I thought about it like that. But when I reached his door, I found myself frozen, confused, disoriented, and wondering how the hell I’d ended up standing on this side of the door.

  Shoving that thought aside, I took in another breath and knocked. Then I waited.

  I waited, and waited, and when there was nothing—not even footsteps behind the door—I knocked again, and again, and again.

  Still nothing.

  Fuck.

  “Panther!” I called out, and began banging on the door, desperate for him to hear me out. “Panther? Are you in there?”

  I rested my forehead on the door and shut my eyes.

  Come on, Panther, I thought, hoping by some miracle I’d hear him coming closer, that I’d hear him unlock the door. But when all that greeted me was more silence, I cursed myself for the fool I was.

  What did I expect? That he’d open the door and welcome me inside? I’d done everything in my power to drive a wedge between us, so I didn’t know why I was so shocked that I’d succeeded.

  I took a step back and was stunned to find my vision had blurred. I wanted back in there. Not just in that room, and behind that door, but back in the arms and heart of the man inside. I made a promise to myself right then and there that I wouldn’t rest until I was.

  22 Panther

  SEVENTEEN HOURS—NO, that was wrong. It’d been seventeen hours
, thirty-five minutes, and approximately fifteen seconds since my entire world had gone to hell in a handbasket. I stepped inside the classroom for this morning’s brief, scanned the room for Solo, and wasn’t surprised to find his usual seat empty.

  Damn Solo. I had no idea what had gotten into him over the last few days, but after yesterday’s blowup, I was done trying to work it out. If he didn’t see that what we had was something worth fighting for, then there was nothing I could, or would, do about it. Blaming me for the problems in his life? Accusing me of using him to win and get back at my father? He was fucking delusional and not the man I’d come to know.

  I’d shut off my phone as soon as I walked back into my room yesterday, then woken up this morning with missed calls and texts that I didn’t bother to read. I assumed it was also Solo beating my door down last night while I slept. Maybe that meant he’d thought it over and realized what a selfish, narrow-minded asshole he’d been.

  Or maybe he’d just wanted to argue some more.

  I dropped into an aisle seat beside Houdini, not wanting to give Solo an opportunity to get close enough to pick a fight. All I’d wanted was to spend time with the bastard while we still could, but he just had to be stubborn and fuck everything up, didn’t he? I didn’t understand his about-face, but I didn’t have to. It was obvious he wanted to blame me for everything going wrong, including, somehow, his loss to Utah, which I knew wasn’t the real source of whatever was going on.

  Just forget him right now. Go back to focusing on why you’re here.

  Easier said than done, especially when the scent of Solo’s body wash and cologne wafted by as he headed down the aisle to his usual seat. My whole body went rigid as I watched him. It was completely unfair the way he looked even better in person than when I thought of him. Even a picture wouldn’t do him justice. Not the way his dark hair spiked a bit in the front, or the golden brown of his sun-kissed skin. Or the way anything he wore molded so perfectly to every lean muscle that you could practically picture him naked.

  Solo settled into his chair, flipping his pen through his fingers. When he glanced over his shoulder at me, I schooled my expression and averted my gaze. No need for him to see my emotions playing out all over my face, not when feelings were the last thing I needed to focus on.

  “Hey, man.” Houdini leaned in and nodded in Solo’s direction. “What’s goin’ on?”

  I shrugged, and he rolled his eyes.

  “Trouble in paradise with you and Solo?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “But—”

  “Give it a fucking rest,” I snapped, and Houdini reared back, brows raised.

  “Okay then.”

  I knew I was being an asshole, but I just needed to get through the day without thinking about, or talking about, Solo.

  A paper plane sailed across the room, landing on the edge of my desk, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out who’d sent it my way. I didn’t bother looking in Solo’s direction as I flicked the plane off my desk and then crushed it under the heel of my boot.

  “Ouch,” someone said—Gucci was my guess, but I didn’t fucking care. I wasn’t dealing with our issues here, and Solo bringing attention to the fact that we weren’t speaking wasn’t helping.

  I heard Solo sigh, and a minute later, another paper plane landed on my desk. This time, he’d written on the outside of the plane, since he probably figured I wouldn’t open this one either.

  I’m sorry. Can we talk?

  I slid the plane underneath my notebook before Houdini or anyone else could see what was written there, then glanced at Solo. It would be too easy to give in when he was looking at me with such a repentant expression, but the words he’d used as weapons had made their mark, and the wounds they’d inflicted still smarted.

  Solo lifted an eyebrow in question, but I only stared back at him, refusing to give him what he was asking for.

  “Ladies and gentlemen.” Commander Levy’s voice boomed as he entered the classroom, but Solo didn’t take his eyes off me, so I held his stare. “Your time here is almost up, which means things are only going to get more difficult from here on out.”

  I barely heard a word he said, but as Commander Levy passed me in the aisle, it forced me to break eye contact with Solo. I didn’t look back at him, but I could feel the weight of his stare.

  “Lieutenant Morgan, is there something more interesting to you than winning this competition?”

  Solo turned toward the front reluctantly, still flipping his pen through his fingers. “There might be one thing.”

  Gasps rang out around the room as my whole body froze.

  Commander Levy’s eyes narrowed. “And what might that be?”

  Oh sweet God of all that was holy. Solo couldn’t mean me…could he?

  Solo glanced back at me, a sly grin on his lips, and then he faced Commander Levy and said, with absolute confidence, “It’s classified, sir.”

  In a move completely out of character, the commander rolled his eyes. No doubt he was used to Solo’s mouth at this point, but it had to be exhausting getting defied at every turn. “Lieutenant Morgan, may I suggest you consider making this class and this program your top priority for the remainder of our time together. That is, if you’d like a recommendation to get you somewhere other than back in the hangar washing jets for the next round of hotshots.”

  As everyone in the room laughed and Commander Levy moved on, I shook my head. Solo going out of his way to screw his career wasn’t funny. Using me—if that was what he’d meant by his “classified” remark—wasn’t funny.

  I frowned at the back of Solo’s head. What the hell are you doing?

  23 Solo

  OKAY, SO I was back to being a mouthy shit, but after my attempts at getting Panther to talk to me had failed, could anyone blame me?

  As soon as we were dismissed from morning session, I was up and out of my seat. Panther was faster. But he couldn’t get away from me. Not this time.

  I pushed past Utah—who really should be glad I wasn’t slamming him face-first into the door—and as I hauled ass in Panther’s direction, I heard him snicker.

  “Give it up, lover boy. You’re not getting the trophy or the guy.”

  My jaw clenched and so did my fists, but I didn’t turn around to give him exactly what he wanted from me: a physical reaction. Instead, I kept my focus on the tall, fuming man ahead of me. I closed the distance between us and called out, “Hey, Panther. Hold up.”

  He kept moving, ignoring me, because of course he did, but after my little revelation on the beach last night, I wasn’t letting him get away so easily. Or at all.

  I called out his name again, and when he kept walking, I cursed under my breath and picked up the pace. “Are you seriously gonna make me chase you?”

  No surprise he didn’t bother responding to that, so what did I do? I ran after him. Me. I chased someone.

  No, not someone. Not just anyone. Panther.

  I could feel the stares from the other trainees as I raced after the man I’d fallen in love with—the one who didn’t know it yet and was too stubborn to listen for one second so I could tell him. But I didn’t care what anyone else was thinking. All I cared about was having the opportunity to make things right.

  “Panther, we need to talk.”

  He shook his head. “Nah, I think I’ve heard enough.”

  Well, shit, at least that was a response, which was more than I’d gotten so far. Jesus, this was what desperation felt like. Fuck that.

  I bit the inside of my cheek as I finally caught up to him and grabbed his elbow.

  Panther whirled around and looked between me and my hand. Before he could open his mouth to object, I said, “I know I was a dick, but I’d like to apologize. Can we go somewhere? Anywhere.”

  The hurt in Panther’s eyes was almost more than I could take. I wished I could somehow kick my own ass for that. Maybe I didn’t deserve to have him, but I was a selfish fucker and wanted to kn
ow I’d thrown everything I could at him. I’d have to accept whatever he decided, but he couldn’t make a fair decision without knowing what I had to say.

  “Something wrong with this hallway?” he finally said.

  I frowned. “What?”

  “You want to apologize. Here’s as good a place as any.”

  “Oh. Right.” I swallowed, and an unfamiliar sensation filled my gut. Was that…nervousness? Shit. It was. I was standing here in front of Panther, palms sweating, anxiety riding me like a wave, all because I needed to apologize and he needed to hear it. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I said some really shitty things to you, things I didn’t mean, and—”

  Panther pushed me to the side abruptly, toward the wall, and it wasn’t until the maintenance crew passed by that I realized we’d been blocking the hallway.

  I looked down to where Panther’s hand was still on my arm, and he jerked away as though I were on fire. No, that wouldn’t do. I didn’t want him to pull away from me. It just wasn’t going to go down this way.

  Steeling my spine for the inevitable shutdown, I said, “Look. There’s a lot I need to say, more apologies I need to make, but it would be better said in private. I’m not taking no for an answer from you this time, so if you’re not cool with meeting me later, we can have it out right here, right now, in front of everyone. The choice is yours.”

  The incredulous look on Panther’s face would’ve been funny if I hadn’t been so serious about this ultimatum. He wasn’t a guy you did that to, and though it looked like he wanted to tell me to fuck off, I could see the curiosity winning out.

  His ice-blue eyes held mine, like he was trying to mine the truth out of me. “After our last class. The abandoned park.”

  I hadn’t realized I’d been holding my breath until it poured out of me in relief. I’d expected more pushback, so I was caught a bit off guard at his easy acquiescence. “I’ll be there.”

  Panther shifted his bag on his shoulder and nodded before heading back to wherever he’d been going to before I stopped him.