I still didn’t know what the surprise was. Or where we were headed. But I wasn’t nervous. I was excited.
And that alone was kind of exciting.
Because maybe Noah had been right. I was beginning to trust myself again.
I could do new things. And maybe—just maybe—I hadn’t lost the part of me who wasn’t afraid of facing the world.
Twenty minutes later, the van turned off the highway and pulled into a small, sun-bleached lot beside a squat tan building with a faded sign: Grand Canyon National Park Airport. My heart did a little flip. Surely…
But Noah was already holding the door open, waiting for me, and I had no choice but to hop out of the van, my feet crunching against the gravel.
The morning air was sharp with jet fuel and desert heat.
Across the lot, three bright red helicopters sat parked in a neat row, their rotors glinting in the sun like giant, sleeping dragonflies.
I turned to Noah, breath catching. “Are we…?”
“Flying today?” He nodded, still a little sheepish.
“But…how…?”
He shrugged. “Made a friend yesterday—the pilot. We ended up talking after the float trip. He’s a former paramedic. I texted him last night…told him you’d never flown in a helicopter, and…he figured out a way to fit us in.”
“Noah…”
He looked nervous now. Watching me like he wasn’t sure if I’d think this was sweet or insane.
I didn’t say anything—partly because I was still stunned. Stunned that Noah saw me. That he listened. That somehow, without me even realizing it, he’d been paying attention to the things I said in passing.
I just launched myself into his arms.
And Noah, of course, caught me. He even spun me around a little, making me laugh.
How had I gone from being the most pathetic girl in the world a week ago to…this?
He held me tightly, his breath warm against my ear. “Hey…” His voice dropped. “You said it was something you wanted to try. Why wouldn’t I make it happen?”
I pulled back just enough to look at him. And there it was again—that steady way he looked at me, like I wasn’t complicated or difficult or too much to figure out.
He’d once said he’d been the problem in his marriage. And maybe that was true.
But standing here, with him—on vacation, away from the demands of everyday life—he saw me, almost…effortlessly.
Before my thoughts could spiral any further, he whispered into my hair, “You deserve it. Don’t ever think you don’t.”
With Noah’s arms around me, I almost believed it.
We stepped into the small terminal, and right away, a tall man in a navy polo and aviators walked toward us. "Hey, man. Good to see you.”
Noah shook his hand. "Rocky, this is Luna."
Rocky slid his sunglasses up onto his head, giving me a once-over that wasn’t exactly inappropriate—but not subtle, either. “Luna. Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too,” I said politely, feeling a little flustered. “Thanks for getting us in today.”
“No problem.” He had a sun-kissed outdoors vibe. Attractive, sure. But standing next to Noah? Not even close.
“Just need you to sign a waiver,” Rocky said, waving to where a few other touristy types like us had gathered near a reception desk. And then, even though he lowered his voice, like it was just meant for Noah, I still caught it.
