Altitude - Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw: A Top Gun Love Story

Chapter 1

Sydney feels the music in her bones. She's barely watching the light show; her eyes are mostly closed. She's not listening to her friends screaming giddily behind her, their squeals drifting farther and farther away. Her head is heavy on her shoulders, but she feels like she's floating, nonetheless. After the copious amounts of alcohol she's consumed, the club is a vision, blurring around her as she glides through it, her arms outstretched as though she's trying to stay afloat. Swaying as she travels through the wave of bodies.

To her left, she notices a man glancing at her from time to time, and she smiles. He's wearing a Hawaiian shirt, which she finds hilarious. He's dancing too, and he moves like a dream. He grins back, nodding in her direction.

She laughs, shaking her head. She's not here for the boys; she's here for the dancing. She's already turned away several guys trying to gain her attention.

That's when somebody comes up behind her. An arm wraps around her stomach, nearly knocking her off her feet. She tries to push him away but he's persistently holding onto her.

In her trancelike daze, she barely registers what is happening. But it only takes a moment for the man in the Hawaiian shirt to spring forward and intervene. He grips the assailant by the collar and shoves him back. The latter stumbles, but Hawaiian shirt is already in his face again, yelling something indiscernible at him over the blaring music in the nightclub.

Hawaiian shirt turns to Sydney. "Do you know him?" he yells.

She shakes her head.

His jaw shifts angrily and he turns back to the man who'd grabbed her, towering over him with clenched fists and a threatening expression on his face.

Sydney gravitates toward him, taking him by the arm to pull him back. She doesn't want him getting kicked out of the club on her account.

"It's fine!" she shouts casually over the music. "I'm fine!"

Hawaiian shirt looks down at her fingers clasped around his bicep and then glances up at her face. "Say that again!" he yells. The arm that she's holding flexes as he lifts his hand to take her elbow and pull her closer. He lowers his head so that he can hear her.

She blinks at him and, for a moment, she's lost in the rhythm of tiny, dancing lights reflecting in his eyes. "I said," she replies, trying to tear her gaze away from his face. "I said, thank you, but he's not worth it. And I'm fine."

"You're okay?" he yells back.

She nods.

He lets out a steady sigh, clenching his jaw and straightening his back. She leads him away from the goon who's already gathered his friends around in preparation for a fight.

Once they are out of sight, consumed by the mass of bodies on the dance floor, she turns to look at him uneasily. He stands perfectly still amidst the swinging arms and twisting silhouettes of the crowd, watching her carefully. And something about his eyes draws her in despite her reservations.

She considers thanking him but, instead, she says, "Nice shirt."

He chuckles. "It was my dad's," he replies.

She laughs. "He's got a great sense of style."

His smile falters slightly. "He did," he responds.

Sydney realizes suddenly that she's still gripping his arm and she lets go awkwardly. After all, she's not here for the boys.

But Hawaiian shirt holds out his hand. "Would you care for a dance?" he asks, a crooked grin materializing on his face.

And before she could remind herself that she most certainly would not care for a dance, she places her hand in his.

He pulls her hand into his chest, taking her by the waist once she's closer, and starts swaying with her to the beat. The sudden proximity makes Sydney slightly dizzy, although she decides to attribute the sensation to the flashing lights and the stale smell of spilt beer on the sticky floor. Still, she can't deny that his hand holding hers right over his heart while he gazes into her eyes makes her somewhat lightheaded.

"You can dance," he shouts over the music. "I saw you – earlier."

Sydney smiles slightly. "You're not so bad, yourself."

He grins, his eyes sweeping over her face as though he were committing her features to memory. "I think that, if I stare at you long enough, I might forget how to walk, let alone dance," he says.

Sydney laughs, shaking her head. "What a line," she replies.

"I've got a few more if you're interested."

She chuckles. "I'll get back to you."

He draws in his cheeks to keep his smile from spreading, but the amusement behind his eyes gives him away. He lowers his face and she could feel his mouth move against her temple when he says, "Can I buy you a drink?"

His voice is smooth now that he's not yelling and it shoots a ripple of delight through her body. He doesn't move away, keeping his face against hers. She takes a shallow breath, moving her head back to glance up at him. "I don't think that's a good idea," she says. When she sees his expression fall, she adds, "I already drank way too much."

He chuckles, biting his lip. "So, what's another one?"

She shakes her head, stepping away from him, before he can find a way to make her change her mind. Something tells her that he could be exceptionally persuasive. She knows his type. "Thanks for the dance," she says loudly, still competing with the volume of the music.

She pulls away but he's still holding onto her hand, his arm outstretched as she retreats. "Don't tell me you're leaving," he calls.

She laughs. "For now," she replies. "Perhaps I'll see you before the night is through."

He's grinning as she turns away. "Now you're just getting my hopes up," he shouts over the pulse vibrating the walls of the club. "You didn't tell me your name!"

She glances over her shoulder at him with a playful smile. Then, she disappears into the crowd.

.....

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Hope you enjoyed the first chapter :D I'd love to hear your thoughts, so leave me a comment if you like. We can talk about this story or how hot Miles Teller is, your choice XD

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