Avery had always followed her gut. In the cockpit, it never failed her. But emotionally? That was a whole different kind of flight plan.

She sat in the jump seat longer than necessary, letting the quiet hum of the engines settle the storm in her chest. Ethan's words were still bouncing around in her mind, reckless little things with entirely too much weight.

You don't have to fly solo forever.

She didn't want to think about what he meant. Or worse—what she hoped he meant.

She rose to her feet and walked the cabin, checking the galley, the seating, the onboard systems, anything to keep her hands busy. But when she peeked toward the back lounge, she froze.

Ethan had dozed off. Jacket off, sleeves rolled, tie loosened, one arm slung over his chest. The sunlight cut through the window, softening the sharp edges of his face and casting golden rays over him.

He looked... peaceful. Less CEO. More human.

And far too attractive.

Avery forced herself to look away.

An Hour Later
The control panel in the cockpit blinked a soft yellow—just enough to snap her out of her haze.

She frowned. Weather system ahead? She scanned the data. Heavy crosswinds building up outside of Chicago. Nothing major, but rough enough to delay a smooth landing—and Ethan's scheduled investor dinner.

Her fingers hovered over the comm before she sighed and hit the intercom.

"Mr. Bradford?"

A groggy voice crackled back. "Yeah?"

"Sorry to interrupt your beauty sleep. Weather's shifting around Chicago. I recommend we land early, ride it out."

"Where?"

She glanced at the closest alternate. Her lips twitched.

"Maple Ridge. Tiny municipal airfield in northern Michigan. Quiet. Quick. Safe."

There was a pause.

"Sounds perfect."

Maple Ridge, Michigan – That Evening

The jet's wheels touched down just as the sky deepened to a soft, dusky lavender. The small-town airfield was empty, lit only by flickering runway lights and a sleepy terminal building that probably hadn't seen this much luxury since the Reagan administration.

Avery powered down the engines as Ethan stepped into the cockpit behind her.

"Nice landing," he said, looking out at the tiny airstrip. "Looks like we dropped into a postcard."

Avery smirked. "It's cozy."

They climbed out of the jet, the cool air nipping at their coats as a single ground crewman waved them toward a hangar. A staff car pulled up, older but well-maintained.

"Town's five minutes that way," Avery said, nodding. "There's a bed-and-breakfast just off the lake. I've stayed there before."

"You have been everywhere," Ethan said with a grin.

She rolled her eyes. "Perks of flying half the year."

Cedar Shores B&B – Lake View Room

Twenty minutes later, Avery stepped out of her room and paused.

Ethan stood on the porch, his suit jacket swapped for a soft gray sweater, hair tousled by the wind. The lake shimmered under a waxing moon behind him.

He turned as she joined him. "They only had one other guest. We practically have the place to ourselves."

Avery crossed her arms. "You sound oddly okay with that."

He shrugged, teasing. "I'm adaptable, remember?"

They both smiled, silence settling again—but this time, it felt like the beginning of something. Something that didn't need words.

Ethan leaned against the porch railing. "So... you trust your gut when you fly. Do you trust it anywhere else?"

She looked at him, lips parting slightly. "Sometimes."

He didn't push. Just nodded slowly. "Mine's telling me something right now."

She tilted her head. "Oh?"

"That I'd really like to take you to dinner. Not in-flight catering. An actual dinner. Maybe... when this tour's over?"

Avery hesitated. Her heart leapt, then stuttered—so unfamiliar, so real.

And then she nodded.

"Okay," she said quietly. "Dinner."

FLASHBACK – ETHAN, AGE 10
New York – Bedroom Floor

Ethan sat cross-legged on his bedroom carpet, drawing his latest superhero with crayon smudges on his sleeves. A cape, a code, a mission. Always saving people. Always alone.

His mother leaned against the doorframe, watching.

"You know, heroes need rest too," she said gently.

"But if they stop flying, people get hurt."

She knelt beside him. "Maybe the bravest thing a hero can do... is let someone fly beside them."

BACK TO PRESENT – LAKE PORCH

Ethan watched Avery under the starlight, her eyes reflecting the moon, her arms folded like she was guarding something sacred.

And for the first time in years, he didn't feel the pressure to perform, to charm, to win.

He just wanted to be.
With her.

Maybe this wasn't just a layover.
Maybe this was the start of his final descent into something real.