Salvatore [Top Gun: Maverick]

12

Stella raised an eyebrow at the nude man standing outside her door. She was so confused by the situation his abs seemed like a dull thought. He offered a shy smile though his cheeks were a bit red. She didn't budge.

"My water isn't working," Bradley explained, holding up his change of clothes.

She shook her head slightly, wrapping her head around the situation.

"Come right on in then," Stella sarcastically said opening up the door. He hurried himself inside.

He stopped awkwardly in the middle of the living room to take a glance at her apartment. It was the same layout as his own minus the the new details Stella added earlier. Stella wasn't too pleased with his observing.

"I like what you did with the place," he complimented as if he wasn't fully naked.

"Bathroom is down the hall," Stella instructed before he could make himself comfortable, "On the left."

He nodded and shuffled to the bathroom quickly as Stella shut the door. The wine still stained her shirt and now she had a guest. While Bradley was taking up her shower, she cleaned her table and attempted to wipe the small drops from the couch. She was tempted to refill her glass but decided against. Not when she had company.

She awkwardly paced the living room while the water continued to run. It wasn't normal to be this anxious with a guest in the house. It wasn't like Bradley was a stranger, he was a co worker. Yet she was unsure whether the bubble of anxiety brewing in her chest came from the fact she wanted him to leave or for him to stay.

A few minutes later there was another knock on the door. It was dinner. She eagerly hurried to the front to accept her goods and tip the man. When she turned around Bradley was in a fitted wife beater and loose sweats. His hair was damp and small drops of water littered his shoulders. It felt awfully rude to send him on his way now.

"Did you want tacos?" she asked.

—

Stella laid out the tacos on two plates and attempted to make them look as presentable as possible. Bradley was nursing a beer on the couch glancing over his shoulder to see if Stella was alright. Walking over with two plates in hand, she handed one to Bradley and placed the other in her lap as she sat on the other end. It felt all too familiar from that one particular night at Bradley's.

"Sorry for stealing your dinner," Bradley said sympathetically.

"Technically it's a meal for two," she shrugged, "Some restaurant deal."

"It's been awhile since a had dinner with someone," he joked though it made her heart beat a little faster.

"You seem more of a casual bar guy" she teased.

He chuckled casting her one of those grins. Stella picked at her tacos.

"I wanted to apologize for the way I've been acting towards you," she admitted. She could ignore her pride for a few minutes.

  He eyed her to continue. She looked away.

  "I've been on edge and you know," she sighed hoping it could speak for herself, "You were—"

  "I know," he assured so she wouldn't have to answer, "I think we're all on edge."

There was a beat of silence before he asked, "Did you really complete the low level course?"

She smiled sheepishly after bringing her wine glass to her lips. His answer was confirmed but the glints of pride shining in her eyes.

"Technically I did. But without a wingman," she explained.