𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍, bradley bradshaw

chapter nineteen

Dakota twirled her pen around her fingers, sighing heavily. The tightness of her bun pulling at her scalp, the uncomfortable feeling of her jumpsuit itching at her skin each time she shifted in her seat.

She had arrived at Top Gun early that morning, after her quite serene off day, her brain was swarmed with thoughts; most of the consisting of one Bradley Bradshaw.

Could he possibly feel the same way? Or was she just overthinking, the lingering kisses he placed along her bare shoulder that morning, trailing his fingers along the dip of her waist, as he muttered a sweet-sounding 'Good morning' into her ear, a smile evident in his voice. She swore to herself in her mind when she felt her stomach flip at the small yet semi-different gestures of the man next to her.

The feeling of someone sitting down in the seat next to her made her cut off her thoughts, the smell of vanilla flooding her nostrils as Phoenix turned and sent her a smile, "Good morning Dakota." Her voice spoke at a higher octave than usual. Dakota rose an eyebrow, "Good morning?" She tilted her head slightly, as she shifted in her seat, her attention now fully on her friend.

She watched as a light pink dashed across the apples of her cheeks, the sound of boots entering the room, making her move her gaze to the sight of Halo and Yale walking in, deep in conversation. Dakota darted her eyes between the two pilots sat in the last row of seats, to her blushing best friend who seemingly couldn't lift her head to look at her.

Her jaw went slack as she ran her tongue along the inside of her cheek, a smirk tugging at her lips, "Holy shit!" She whisper yelled, her notebook slipping off her thighs and onto the floor in front of her as she shifted in excitement. "What did you guys do?" Phoenix's cheeks flooded with a rush of red, shooting a quick glance at the woman sitting behind her over her left shoulder, before turning to an excited Dakota.

"Nothing too bad happened," her voice spoke lowly, finally pulling her gaze up to hers. "We just kissed 'n stuff." Dakota scoffed with a roll of her eyes, "'n stuff' my ass." The freckled woman lifted her head slightly about the seat, "I don't see any marks on her neck, and I know you like to leave ma-" "That's because they aren't visible, Dakota." A soft smirk tugging at the corners of her lips, fiddling with her fingers that laid on the cover of her notebook.

Her jaw dropped slightly, "Natasha Trace!" Her voice still hushed, as she punched her shoulder playfully. "Who knew my little Phoenix had it in her." The quiet female rolled her eyes as she punched her back, "You should." She said as she threw her head back against the seat of the chair, a bashful smile on her lips, teeth glinting in the early morning sun shining through the large windows.

Dakota say back properly in her seat as more aviators strolled in, clad in their army green flight suits. She leaned her head against the seat of the chair like her friend, "You are so telling me more when we get to Penny's tonight." She muttered, a smirk on her lips as she sighed. Phoenix chuckled lightly at this, her gaze settled on her lap once more.

Her eyes fluttered down to her notebook that still laid on the floor in front of her, she sighed, reaching down to grab it. Her fingers brushed the top of a large hand, a small gasp just barely escaping her lips as she looked up to the person.

Rooster's large figured covered the incoming sunlight through the window, casting a shadow on her. A cocky smirk present on his lips as their eyes connected. His gaze glued on her face, every once and a while glancing down at her lips. He squatted down, grabbing the notebook and placing it on her lap, the pads of his fingers lingering up her thigh in the process. Her heart fluttered at the feeling.

"Did you drop this sweetheart?" He questioned lowly in her ear as he stood back up to his full height. She pressed her lips in a thin line, her mind swarming with thoughts. His smirk deepened due to her silence, trailing his eyes down her figure before walking past her seat, only to sit down in the row right in front of her; his mahogany cologne wafting in her direction in the process.