Page 78 of 4th Degree

Finally, she nods.

I turn back to the receptionist and slide my card across the counter. “Together, please.”

The next thirty minutes fly by. We meet our instructor, go through some academics to understand the physics of everything, and then suit up with all the necessary gear.

Finally, we walk over to the air tunnel in the middle of the building. I look over at Skylar, taking in her outfit of a one-piece flying suit and a gigantic helmet, and I can’t help smirking. “You know I didn’t think I’d say this, but you look adorable in that getup.”

She looks up at me from behind goggles that take up half her face. Taking the time to give me a blatant once-over, she says, “I don’t think you look quite as adorable.”

I bark out a laugh at her indignation. I don’t get a chance to make a dirty comment about getting her out of that one-piece, because the instructor chooses that moment to wave her into the tunnel.

I can sense her slight nervousness, but she’s also fearless as she steps inside. The instructor grabs her hands and moves her to the center, and then she shows her how to lay on her stomach to simulate the default skydiving position. When her feet fly up under her to suspend her in midair and she lets out a shriek of delight, I can’t help smiling. Gone is the nervousness, in its place is the picture of pure joy.

As I watch her find her balance and rhythm in the air tunnel, her excitement only grows. By the time she’s flying on her own, there’s no sign of the dejected girl from a few hours ago.

I don’t even mind that I feel like a total moron when I get in the tunnel. Twenty years spent in a sport where balance and athleticism are literally a life-or-death skill, yet I feel as awkward as a day-one student who’s never done a workout in their life. The only thing that makes the embarrassment worth it is the sight of Skylar’s downright glee as she watches me.

As I touch down and right before I walk out of the tunnel, I ask the instructor if I can pay for Skylar to have another spin. He gives me a knowing smile and agrees.

When she gets out of the tunnel, her grin looks permanently plastered on her face. She latches onto my arm as she bounces over to me and squeals, “Oh my God, that was the most fun I’ve ever had. This was such a good idea!”

I don’t even attempt to contain my own smile. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. Worth the afternoon off?”

“So worth it,” she gushes. “Now I want to go real skydiving, though.”

“You might be on your own for that one,” I say with a chuckle. “I’m not sure I could talk myself into jumping out of an actual plane.”

She presses herself closer to me, her eyes twinkling. “I wonder if I could talk you into it.”

And as I look down at her adorably freckled, smiling, flushed face, I realize no part of me is lying when I say, “I don’t doubt that you could, baby.”

She beams up at me. I swear I could stay here for another ten hours, just watching her smile and shriek and laugh, but our time slot is way past over by now. Begrudgingly, I jerk my head toward the changing room.

“Come on, let’s get changed out of these onesies.”

By the time we walk out of the building and near my car, the mood has sobered. Because I only asked her for an afternoon, and technically we’ve reached the end of that.

But I’m kind of dying to keep her with me for a little bit longer.

“Are you hungry?” I hurry to ask as soon as we’re both seated in my car. “There’s a good burger spot right around the corner that I like to eat at when I’m out this way.”

I’m sure she senses the same urgency I do, but she doesn’t let it show as she agrees. All I know is I’m grateful that I get her for another hour.

“Alright, I have more questions for you,” she says as soon as we sit down at the table, her playful mood back in effect.

The corner of my lip twitches in amusement and a bit of relief. “Fine, but I get to ask questions this time, too. I shouldn’t be the only one baring my soul.”

“Fine.” And before she can do any more than open her mouth, I rush out, “What’s your most embarrassing moment?”

Her eyes narrow, both at the question and the interruption. “No repeating questions.”

I shrug with a smirk. “Set that rule too late. Answer the question.”

Sighing, she leans back in her chair as she mulls over her answer. After a moment, she says, “I fell in the water during a first date at a mini golf course.”

I let out a bark of laughter. “What? How does that even happen?”

“I shot the ball into the water and tried to go after it, but I slipped. I got drenched head to toe.” She pouts. “He said it’s why he didn’t kiss me at the end of the night.”

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