“I’m sorry. I know you did all you could to help him. Will they transition him to another aircraft?” This was the second pilot his class had lost, and as class leader he took it personally, like he’d failed them.
He raked his fingers over his hair. “I don’t know. I really thought giving him the extra hours would help him.”
“This isn’t your fault, Grayson.” He looked back at the cards. “How about I help you study?”
“Want to quiz me?” His eyebrows shot up like he’d asked if he could have ice cream.
A slow smile spread across my face. “That’s exactly what I had in mind.” I scooped up the cards and then stood at the foot of the bed. “Lean back against the headboard.”
“What?” His forehead puckered. “And why are you in a sweat suit? It’s like ninety-seven degrees out there.”
“You heard me. Lean back against the headboard. I will be happy to quiz you, but you are not allowed to so much as breathe in my direction until you’ve earned it.” I used my most authoritative voice.
“Okay.” He sat back with a playful smirk on his face. Despite what he said, I knew with Grayson I was only in control when he allowed it.
“Good boy.” I grinned and then went for the first card. “Dual engine failure/Low Airspeed and Cruise.”
He lost the smirk, all business. “Autorotate. Chop button—reset only if an engine chop warning message is present. Reset may be accomplished by either crew member. Wing stores jettison—as appropriate.”
“One point for Grayson.” His lips parted as I unzipped my University of Colorado hoodie and tossed it to the ground, leaving me in a tank top and bra underneath.
Understanding lit his eyes, and he leaned forward. “Are you—”
I waggled my finger at him. “Sit back. I’m asking the questions here.”
He did, but every line in his body tensed. I knew that look all too well. He was ready to pounce.
“Autorotation. Both Engines Fail.”
“The cyclic should be adjusted as necessary to attain and maintain the desired airspeed of 77 to 107 KTAS. In autorotation, as airspeed increases above 70-80 KTAS, the rate of descent and glide distance increase significantly. Below 70 KTAS the rate of descent will also increase but glide distance decreases.”
Damn, he really was that good. “Another point for Grayson.” I kicked off my shoes.
“Seriously? Shoes? How is that fair? That answer was worth way more than the shoes.”
My head tilted to the side. “Oh, but I thought you needed more study time?”
His eyes narrowed. “In this case, less is more.”
I quirked an eyebrow but removed my socks, throwing them near my discarded hoodie. “That’s all you get, flyboy.”
“Give me another question.”
Holy shit, the way he looked at me was hot enough to melt my panties. “Ng Limits.”
“105.1 Maximum, Greater than 105.1 Red. 102.3 to 105.1 Transient 12 second limit, Yellow. 63.1 to 102.2 Normal Operation, Green. 63 Minimum engine out warning annunciated—less than 63.0 red with box.”
I slid my fleece pants down my legs and kicked them away.
“That’s cheating!” he shouted, pointing at my bike shorts.
I shrugged. “My game, my rules.”
“Damn it. Give me another one.” He shifted on the bed but didn’t attack.
“Airspeed.”
“Maximum airspeed with symmetrically loaded external fuel tanks (2 or 4) installed is 130 KTAS to prevent structural damage to the airframe.”
I made damn sure he was watching as I wiggled my hips, tugging the spandex shorts off my legs. That hiss of indrawn breath coming from the bed said he’d definitely noticed. “Next,” he barked.
“APU Operations Limitations Caution.”
“Avoid prolonged operation at 94 to 96% Nr with the APU running. The APU clutch will oscillate from engaged to disengaged. This creates high loads on the clutch and shall be avoided.”
I crossed my arms and pulled my tank top up over my head.