eyebrow. “Come on, Sweeney. One flight.”
My heart squeezes at the sound of my last name. Finn’s one of the only people who calls me that, and it feels natural to hear it. Like old times. Through the open hangar door, I look at the bright red plane outside. My chest constricts as I gulp, stealing a glance at Finn.
He’s grinning at me, trouble written all over his face. That’s the exact grin that got me detention for starting a campfire in the school yard when we were nine. It’s the grin that made me flash my ass to passing cars from the roof of his house. It’s the grin that makes me feel like I’m home anytime I see it.
I let my lips curl upward and nod. “All right then. Let’s do it.”
Finn laughs, clapping me on the shoulder. Ever since Esme came to town, things have been different.
But right now?
It feels like old times again. My heart eases, and I feel like myself for the first time in months.
As I walk over to the plane, my heart grows. We bought this plane together, scrimping and saving every penny we had. I took care of this machine like it was my child, and as stupid as it sounds, I’ve missed the old bird. I miss being in the cockpit and feeling it purr underneath me.
As I run my fingers over the plane’s body, feeling the bumps of rivets under my fingers, I finally let a full smile stretch over my lips. I can’t wait to take this baby up into the air.
But as I glance back toward the hangar and see the customers arrive, my thoughts drift to Serena. What would her face look like after a skydive? I’d like to see her, rosy-cheeked and bright-eyed, high on adrenaline. I’d like to make her laugh…and make her live.
I see the pain in her eyes and the fear that kept her small. I see her poking her head out of her shell more and more with every hour that passes.
I’d love to share this with her, too.
But my thoughts turn hotter, and I think about wrapping my fingers around her dark hair. I think about those lush lips trailing over my skin. Her hands splayed over my chest.
I need to stay away.
She can book a skydive on her own time—preferably when I’m on a commercial flight far, far away from here.
Flying my old plane feels like coming home. When we’re in the air, my heart feels light and I can’t keep the smile off my face. The soon-to-be-engaged customers—diehard skydivers who don’t need Finn to jump tandem with them—jump out of the plane and I do an extra loop, enjoying the tapestry of trees and pastures below me.
No matter how much I try to convince myself that I enjoy the commercial flights, this is what I love. This is what makes me feel alive.
When I land the plane and walk back to the hangar, Finn claps me on the back and laughs.
“He’s back, baby!”
I grin, shaking my head. “Not so fast. I’ve still got a real job to go back to.”
“Quit.” Finn smiles wider as if he’s joking, but there’s a seriousness in his eyes.
I chuckle, shaking my head. Still, when I glance at the plane and back at Finn, it feels like old times. Even when Esme arrives in the company van to take the jumpers back to town, it feels natural. She walks over to Finn and gives him a kiss, then glances in my direction.
“You back?” Her lips curl hopefully.
I shake my head. “Nah. Just a bit of nostalgia.”
Esme arches an eyebrow, tugging her black beanie farther down her head. “We’ll see.” She flips her hood up and pulls gloves on her hands, walking toward the customers. “Let’s go,” she calls out. “Back to the heat of the van. It’s freezing in here.”
The happy, newly-engaged customers shuffle away, and Finn and I are left alone. He extends his hand toward me, his face serious.
I reach out and shake his hand as my chest constricts. He hangs onto my hand for a second too long, staring into my eyes.
“I love her, Kit.”
A jagged rock lodges itself in my throat, slicing my flesh raw. I can taste blood sticking to the back of my tongue, bitter, salty iron. I’m sick of being mad. Sick of feeling like I’ve lost my sister, my friend, my business. Sick of being angry at everyone and stewing in my own feelings of betrayal.
I let