Coffee and Cockpits (11 page)

Including being butthole annoying.

 “You may have saved our lives today, big bro, but you’re still just a pilot to her. I told you how she feels about the work rumours.”

Yes, I did know and both hated and applauded Nina for her standards. I knew it’d be hard to live up to her ideals. Wouldn’t stop me from trying my hardest though.

“Go do your job before I talk to operations and have them fire you.” I flashed her a smile and retreated into the cockpit where I was marginally more of a man and less an infatuated fool.

W
e stood in the shadows of the beached plane, gawking at the mangled undercarriage. The runway was a scar amongst swaying palm trees, and the airport shimmered with mirage tendrils in the smothering island air. After two hours of organising people to remove their Jimmy Choos and Manolo Blahniks so they wouldn’t puncture the emergency slide, we managed to empty the plane.

There’d been panic and hysteria; people scrambling to disembark in case we blew up, but once the fire engine commander confirmed we weren’t in danger, we’d been able to keep them calm enough.

Something oily and slick still coated my stomach. It started while I helped ferry passengers around the cabin and wouldn’t leave me alone. For some reason something was off—most likely because we were island-wrecked with no clue where we were staying, or what would happen.
We’re alive. Just focus on that.

I left Samantha and Joslyn discussing the crash, and skirted around the busted plane to the rear. My heart turned to lead as my eyes widened. The back end was singed and gaping as if a bad dentist had a sudden career change and went from butchering mouths to massacring aircrafts. Shards of metal were bent and crooked while multi coloured wires spooled like some strange mechanical blood. What the hell caused that?

“Pretty gnarly, huh?” Liam appeared from the other side. His hands were shoved in his black trousers, his pilot hat crooked on his head.

My heart squeezed then softened, taking in the tiredness in his eyes and drained aura. He’d battled an aircraft and won. I wanted to hug him in the cabin—to show him how much I appreciated him granting me more years on earth, but I didn’t think it would be correct etiquette. I was finding it harder and harder to remember why I was so hung up on boundaries. I was a bit of a tool when it came to enjoying myself. My promise came back to mind. Never again would I stop myself from living how I wanted. Starting now.

Shyness overcame me as I allowed my attraction toward him to trump my hang-ups that he was a pilot and shouldn’t be fraternized with. So what if Jos would be pissed at me for going after her sibling… life was too short, and he was worth it.

I shook my head. “I’m extremely impressed you and Anderson were able to keep us airborne.” I bit my lip, thinking of what might’ve happened. The spools of wires trailing like intestines above us might have been my own guts. I shivered.

Liam laughed, shrugging. “All in a day’s work.” He moved closer. “I wouldn’t want to do it again, though.” He rolled his shoulders, grimacing.

Perhaps I should offer to give him a back massage—it was the least I could do for him keeping us all alive.

Liam smiled. “Nina, ever since Joslyn told me your last name, I’ve been dying to say something. It’s idiotic but I think now fits quite well.” He gave me a crooked smile. “You can call me a dork if you want.”

Every breath I took caught his cinnamon scent, stronger from his exertion during landing. He was so close, and my body urged to close the small distance between us. I should’ve hugged him in the cabin, then he’d know my attitude toward him had changed.

I wrinkled my nose, pretending to be peeved. “If it has something to do with my last name, I can assure you, I’ve heard them all.”

His face fell, but then he grinned. “Can I say it anyway?”

Laughing, I pulled the elastic from my ponytail and ruffled my hair. “Sure.

Knock yourself out.” I’d let him say anything at this point. I was alive because of him. If that didn’t put things into perspective, I didn’t know what would.

He took a deep breath and rushed, “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.” Chuckling, he added, “Go ahead. Call me a douche. But it’s a much better word than the string of swear words that ran through my head as we came into land.” 

“You’re not a douche.” I smiled, but then images of him struggling with the plane made me weak-kneed with amazement. He’d had so much responsibility resting on him. I froze, realizing I was in awe. “Thank you again, Liam.” My voice shimmered with sincerity. “Thank you for saving our lives today.”

His lips parted, and the soft muggy island air thickened to a tension-laced bisque. “It wasn’t just me. Anderson did most of the work.”

I loved that he let his superior have the credit. And I had no doubt it was a joint effort, but it wasn’t like I wanted to kiss walrus-moustached Anderson. Liam’s fuzz free lips were much more tempting.

I stepped forward, my fingers so close to touching him. “I’m not thanking Anderson. I’m thanking you.” We survived a crash, and I didn’t want to hold back anymore. I wanted to show my appreciation—and if it led to more, then so be it. Life was full of mistakes: a castle full of corridors with new adventures and heartaches, and I refused to stay in one room and not explore.

Liam’s chest rose and fell; his gaze dropped to my lips. “Nina, I—I have to tell you something.” His face dropped toward mine and my eyelashes fluttered, just as they closed, I caught a glint of red.

I gasped and my hands flew to his head, diving into the thick locks. His black hair gleamed with liquid rust. “You’re bleeding.” My fingertips investigated the slippery wound, and he flinched. My stomach did a stupid gymnastic move that didn’t end well.

“Am I? I hadn’t noticed.”

I frowned. He just lied about his injury. Why? I bit my lip as I scaled a huge bump on the side of his head. “It doesn’t feel good. I think you should see the hospital staff. A head injury is serious.” My whiplash was nothing compared to a concussion. Is that why he seemed so… shy? Was that a good word? It was as if he’d been stripped of his pilot swagger; his aeronautical confidence. What had changed? 

He shrugged, brushing my hands away. “I’ll go later, once the passengers have been dealt with.”

I looked down at my hands—bright crimson dewed on my fingers. What should I do with his blood?

As if pre-empting my motion to wipe my hands on my skirt, Liam pulled a handkerchief from his breast pocket. “Here you go.”

I laughed. “You’re old school. Who still uses handkerchiefs?”

Pride laced with embarrassment in his eyes. “I do I guess.” Clearing his throat, he said, “What I wanted to say before—”

Heels clacked on the runway, and Joslyn appeared just as Liam jerked away from me, his eyes shooting messages of heat and annoyance.

“Ah, there you two are. Anderson needs to talk to all of us. Staff meeting as it were.” She looked from me to Liam, but didn’t remark on our closeness. Instead, she pirouetted, saying, “Come along. Can’t keep him waiting.”

Awkwardness filled my limbs as Liam and I trudged after Joslyn. I refused to make eye contact with him. I didn’t know what he wanted to tell me, but I knew if he shot me that sexually charged look again, I’d most likely kiss him.
Where have my inhibitions gone?

The terminal bustled with activity, and we were absconded by smiling ambulance staff in crisp white uniforms and island brown skin. I sat through a half hour exam, checking my vitals, enduring enquires if I needed therapy to talk about the crash. I was beginning to think people thought it was a lot worse than it was. Their worry conjured imagery flames, smoke, and carnage. I shuddered, thanking my luck nothing like that happened.

After assuring them I was mentally stable and glossing over my whiplash so as not to be detained longer, they released me to the staff room where Anderson, Liam, and Samantha waited.

Joslyn appeared behind me. “Do I look mentally unhinged? They wouldn’t take my ‘no, I’m fine thanks’ for an answer. They translated it to ‘yes, please prod me some more and ask me the same question twenty flipping times.’” She threw herself onto one of the sagging yellow couches.

Liam chuckled. “I can tell them to take you away if you want. You might be a danger to yourself. I’d certainly vouch for that.”

I eyed him. Did he do what I asked and let the medics investigate him? They would’ve examined him, but did he downplay it? His hair was damp and there wasn’t any glint of blood. I made a note to keep an eye on him.

Joslyn threw a magazine at Liam that was on the arm rest. “Ha ha.”

Smiling, I took a pew next to Samantha.

Anderson chortled, scooting forward on his chair. “Right, hello everyone. We survived.” His tone flirted with amusement, but his pallor wasn’t so hot.

We all grinned as Anderson continued, “You girls did an amazing job. Liam and I are very proud and honoured to work with a team so level-headed and capable. We don’t know what went wrong, but we’ll let you know as more information comes to light.”

Joslyn blushed, and Samantha dropped her eyes. I spoke for all of us. “It’s us who should be thanking you.”

Anderson nodded. “It was nothing.” He clapped his hands and opened a manila folder. “We arrived here in one piece, not exactly as planned mind you, but we’re here. I’ve heard from operations, and I have good news and bad.”

Samantha asked, “What’s the bad news?”

He smiled. “The bad news is the plane isn’t flyable.”

Liam snorted, rolling his eyes. “We don’t need Ops to tell us that.”

Anderson chuckled. “The good news is. They’re sending an engineer to assess the damage, and a new plane will be delivered soon.” He leaned back, smiling. “In the meantime. We’re stuck in tropical Samoa.”

T
he air traffic control tower was a jumble of men in floral island shirts and khaki shorts. We’d royally screwed up their arrivals and departures for the rest of the night, and they scrambled to reshuffle to a small grass strip that may or may not be a legal airport.

I crossed my arms against my bruised chest, staring at the broken plane in the oasis of charred runway. It looked like a giant in the sky decided to hit it repeatedly with a hammer. It was a dead paperweight. Bent wings, shredded belly, and tail.

Once again I shook my head, unable to believe how Anderson and I won the battle to get here. I think we should go down in the record books for weight lifting a jumbo jet.

“Co-pilot Mikin?”

I turned and focused on the controller who’d talked us through the landing. I was indebted to his quick thinking and problem solving. I didn’t even know his name. I scanned for a name tag or something. Nothing.

“Yes—?” I raised an eyebrow.

He shook his head, sticking out a hand. “Sorry. My name’s Mack. You guys did a great job. Seeing you come in hot with no landing gear was pretty nerve wracking. I felt like I was right there with you.”

I nodded. “You and me both. Thanks for helping out.” I nodded toward the window. “What can I do to help?”

He wafted away my comment with his clipboard. “No need. I’ve arranged for the plane to be towed to the hanger. It’ll be gone by tomorrow morning.” He looked at his notes, pursing his lips. “I’ve been informed by Kiwi Air that a Nikolai Rivers is coming to assess the damage, along with some other stuffed shirts. In fact,” he checked his bashed-up watch, “he should be here any moment.

My guts twisted at hearing Nikolai’s name. That guy… would I never be able to get away from him? It wasn’t that I didn’t like him. I did. Or at least, I
had
. He was friendly, had a good head on his shoulders, and I’d shared more than a few highlights of my life with him. But there was something inside me that would never be able to forgive him. Time didn’t heal all wounds, not between us anyway. 

I didn’t want to acknowledge it, but I also suffered major insecurity around him. He was good looking, and I happened to know ladies threw themselves at him to dance. I personally thought Salsa was a bit gay, but it worked for him. 

“He’s a top engineer, so I have no doubt he’ll find out what went wrong.” I tried to shove off the seed of apprehension. Why was I nervous?