“Try what?” Bolt eyed his best friend like he was growing horns.
“Find a girl. Get married. It’s awesome.” Riggs kicked back the bottle.
“That’s your thing, man. Not mine.” Bolt shook his head. “I’m glad you have Faith. I really am. But I’m not the boyfriend type and definitely not the marrying type.” He stood to get another beer. “Can I get one for you?”
“Yeah, bring me one.”
Bolt walked through the patio door and reached in the cooler for two beers. The friends had managed to stay together through flight school. They only had three weeks left in Mississippi before they would be on to the next stage of the pilot process.
“Here you go.” He tossed the beer in Riggs’s lap.
“Thanks.” Riggs twisted the cap and tossed it in an open trash bin. “Look, I worry about you.”
Bolt chuckled. “Why do you worry about me?” He had lost count on how many beers they had consumed. Saturday nights were their chance to let loose. No flying on Sundays.
“Because, I’m with Faith and pretty soon we’ll probably start a family, and I don’t like that you’re out on your own with nobody to help you fly straight.”
The words cut into Bolt’s skin like thorns. He wasn’t alone. He had Riggs. He had the guys he would fly with.
“I’m fine. Women complicate things. Relationships complicate things. I like my life just fine without somebody in it, telling me what to do, where to go, how to dress. I don’t need the bullshit. I’m glad Faith’s not like that. But it’s not for me.” The cold beer was soothing on his throat. He didn’t know how many more of these humid Mississippi nights he could handle.
“Alright, brother, but you don’t know what you’re missing out on. One day you’re going to meet someone and it’s all going to change.”
“Negative.”
Riggs laughed so hard he spilled his beer on the concrete under his lawn chair. “You say that now, but just wait. I’m going to be there laughing my ass off the entire time. Just don’t wait too long. Ok?”
“Let’s talk about something other than women. What do you say we plan a trip after flight school graduation?”
“Chicago? We haven’t gone to Wrigley yet.”
“I’m in.” Bolt smiled.
Bolt thought about that night as he parked in the visitor space outside Skye’s apartment building. Riggs had tried for years to sell him on the benefits of monogamous bliss, but Bolt didn’t buy it. Riggs and Faith were different. That kind of relationship didn’t happen for other people.
He pressed the elevator button and looked at the flowers he held in his hand. Moms liked flowers, right? He wasn’t one to fidget, but he brushed off the imaginary lint on his shirt and pulled his collar away from his throat.
The doors retracted and Bolt stepped into the hallway. His heart was beating faster than usual. He reminded himself he was the guy who never got nervous before a flight. This was no big deal—just one little mother. It wasn’t like there was a dad with a shotgun on the other side of the door.
He knocked twice before Skye flung the door open.
“Hi!” She smiled.
“Hi.” He looked over her shoulder, ready to get the parent introduction out of the way.
A petite woman sat on the couch, thumbing through a magazine. She once had dark hair, but it was woven with patches of gray. Bolt wasn’t sure what he expected, but from the little description Skye had given, he was expecting someone who looked crazy, but Patty Stephens seemed comfortable and at home in her daughter’s apartment.
“Mom, this is Ben.” Skye led him over to where her mother was sitting. “Ben, Mom, or I guess you would call her Patty.”
“Nice to meet you.” He held out the assorted flowers. “These are for you.”
Patty stood, placing the magazine on the seat behind her. “Ben. It’s a pleasure. I wish I could say I’ve heard more about you, but Skye has a way of keeping secrets.” She laid the flowers on the coffee table and her hands clasped over his. “Thank you for those flowers.”
“Mom, I told you we just started dating.” Skye twisted her bottom lip under her teeth. “Ben’s not a secret.”
It was the first time either of them had said something so formal. Ben thought it would feel uncomfortable, like wearing a jacket made out of sandpaper, but he liked how it rolled off her tongue. Dating. He and Skye were dating.
Patty rolled her eyes. “Doesn’t mean you have to keep someone as handsome as this from me. I like to know about your friends.”