by Zoe Lee
While I honestly knew that already, I could see that he didn’t yet.
This was a hell of a way to prove his commitment. Much more terrifying for him than offering me a ring or saying I do in front of people who loved him unconditionally already.
“So I have to do the beginner’s class first,” he said as we crossed the parking lot.
“I’ll do it with you,” I told him. “Not that I need it, but I can make sure you feel safe.”
He squeezed my hand and I opened the door for him, sighing in happiness.
The ritual of checking in, reviewing and signing the waivers, and taking a class seemed to really reassure and calm Eliott, which made sense given how much school he’d done. The class was methodical and no-nonsense, tailored to teaching people who would all do tandem jumps strapped to an instructor. It was about understanding the whys, not hows.
“You look hot in that jumpsuit,” I said once we’d geared up.
“You were like some stripper fantasy come to life the first time I watched you unzip one,” he murmured so that no one else would overhear, smirking at me. “Now quit flirting.”
Laughing, I smacked his ass and then off we went, going up in the plane.
As Eliott got paler and sweaty, more and more adrenaline pumped through me. Every time he crushed my hand in his grip, I laughed more and grinned so hard my cheeks hurt. I knew I should tell him it was okay if he didn’t jump, but I wanted the choice to be all his.
He would go first, and his eyes were giant and wild behind his goggles. But he was staying put, steady and determined and out to prove something to himself, for us. Everything we’d learned about ourselves and each other, and every way we’d loved each other with words and bodies, flashed in front of my eyes and echoed through my nerves.
Absolute certainty coalesced—this was my fate, like Lita had said, and it was beautiful.
I darted in close, ignoring the instructor strapped behind him, and dared him, “If you can do this without fainting or pissing yourself, I’ll marry you someday, Eliott Sycamore.”
And with that, he had to jump.
All the way down, he screamed, probably deafening the poor instructor. I vaulted out of the plane when it was my turn, feeling like a falling angel and a daredevil and the bravest, best boyfriend in the universe all at once, reveling in being alive. When I pulled the ripcord and my parachute opened, I shouted in exuberant exultation and looked around at the sky going on forever and the earth getting closer.
But all of those feelings were miniscule and wimpy compared with how it felt knowing that when I landed, Eliott would be right there, steady and refined, but secretly kinky. I hoped, as I fell towards the ground, that he’d tell me he wanted to marry me too, but even if he didn’t, I didn’t give a shit as long as he wanted me forever just the way I wanted him.
I grinned so big, the wind smacked at my teeth and made them over-sensitive.
And once I’d made a textbook landing, I strode towards Eliott as soon as I saw him.
He was already separated from the instructor and out of his gear, bent over puking his guts up while making epic horking noises. The whole thing made me love him even more, and it probably said something weird about me, but whatever.
“Hey, sweetheart,” I exclaimed happily as I bent over next to him.
Red-faced, seeming like he was done puking, his hanging head twisted toward me.
“I fucking hate skydiving,” he proclaimed with utterly perfect indignation.
“Maybe you’ll like scuba diving better,” I suggested, then snickered like an immature idiot when he dry heaved just hearing the idea, my whole body crackling with life.
“But now I can say I tried being a daredevil for one day,” he said. “And now I have definitive proof that you do know how to skydive properly and land in the right place.”
I let that dig against my skills slide, moving with him as he started to slowly raise his head and upper body, wondering if it would be fun to take pilates together.
Once he was upright and breathing evenly, I handed him paper towels and the travel-size mouthwash I’d carried in my jumpsuit.
After gargling the mouthwash, he asked, “Where did you get that?”
“They sell it at the center. I got it while you were in the bathroom.”
“Good thinking,” he said a little faintly as he stared around us almost blankly, as if he still couldn’t understand how he’d been on the ground, flying, then diving, now standing.
I let him take his time, content to stand there since the employees were gathering up everyone’s gear for us. Then I watched his muscles tense up—I knew without a doubt he was remembering what I’d said to him right before he jumped—and I held my breath.
“Gavin,” he said very slowly and carefully, as if he’d never said my name before.
“Eliott,” I mimicked, despite the sudden fear burning away the buzz from the jump.
Our eyes locked and I forgot how to do anything else but look at him, he was so captivating as his pale green eyes blazed at me. His expression tautened with deliberation and determination as he stated, “I didn’t faint. Or lose control of my body in any other way.”
I gulped and my feet shuffled, bringing me closer to him, drawn like a magnet. “No?”
“Not until my feet were on the ground and I threw up.”
He took my sharp chin in an unyielding hold and leaned in. “If,” he whispered, the single tantalizing word sexy and full of promises, desire coiling through me, “you don’t tell anyone that I lost my lunch after I skydived, I will marry you someday, Gavin Sycamore.”
“I’m so in love with you and you’re fucking perfect,” I declared, hugging him as hard as I could. “It means the world to me that you tried this, and no matter whether you try any of my other hobbies or not, I’ll stay in love with you, my clever, dirty, boring lawyer.”
He breathed raggedly, our cheeks pressed together. “My clever, dirty daredevil.”
“I landed in the right place that time, too, just like I did today,” I said after a minute.
“Oh really?” he asked, chuckling softly in amusement.
Drawing back, I grinned at him and stated, “Absolutely. I landed right beside you.”
Acknowledgements
Thank you first to my husband Matt for loving the original version of this story so much, I pulled it out, shook it up, and discovered it fit right into my plans for the Local Beats series.
Thank you to my beta readers, especially Candace, who once left a comment before 7am; to Emilie DeMun for this adorable cover; and to Katie at Gay Romance Reviews, who had to reassure my anxious heart.
To all of the bloggers and readers who love romance as much as I do, thank you for taking the time to read, review, and rave! It means so much more than I can say. If you enjoyed this book, please leave a review, because you wouldn’t believe how much it helps!
About the Author
Zoe writes contemporary romances and believed everyone will get extraordinary love stories since before she ever fell in love. She lives with her family near the mountains in Colorado, where she writes while listening to music, never drinks coffee, reads books in one sitting, and watches too many movies and tv shows. She’s been writing since she was a kid, but luckily she knows how grown-ups work now. Mostly.
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