Page 2 of When We Are Falling

“Sorry, we’ve got a busy day. But we’re glad you enjoyed it.” I give her a pat on the back. “Welcome to the club.”

The tourists head off, chattering excitedly, and the solo jumpers stop to thank us, exchanging fist bumps and stories.

Once we’re alone, Liam gives me a look. “They were cute. A drink wouldn’t have hurt, you know?”

“We don’t screw the clients. It’s non-negotiable.”

“I know, I know.” He raises his hands in mock surrender. “But she was definitely into you. You could’ve at least enjoyed the attention a bit more.”

I pull out my vape, taking a long drag. “I enjoy the jump, not complications. Besides, you know how it goes. Keep it professional. There are plenty of women in town. It’s not like there are no other options.”

I’ve never had a shortage of women interested in me, and the same goes for Liam. But I like to date on my terms, where I set the pace and the boundaries. And I definitelynevermix business with pleasure. It keeps things simple.

Liam rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Sometimes I think you’re missing out on all the fun parts of life.”

I shrug, still enjoying the high from the jump. “I get my fun from the sky, fella. No strings attached.”

He laughs, clapping me on the shoulder. “Well, just remember, some strings aren’t so bad. Like canopy strings, for instance.”

“Touché.”

The sticky afternoon dwindles as Liam and I make our way back into town. We head for the Tidal Tavern, a bar overlooking the marina where we keep our boat and rent a small office. The sun hangs low, casting a golden glow over Little Egg Harbor, and as the marina comes into view, boats bobbing gently on the water, the sound of lively music reaches us.

The place is heaving despite it being a Wednesday. Peak tourist season has the town bustling, and the Tavern is no exception. Blake catches sight of us from behind the bar and waves, her red hair pulled up in a high ponytail, a few loose strands framing her beautiful face. She’s wearing a navy blue tank top and faded jeans under her black apron, effortlessly cool as always, while she and my friend Jake’s sister tend the bar.

As we walk toward her, I can’t help staring. Blake is gorgeous, with an independent spirit and wild streak that sets her apart from anyone else I’ve ever known. Those tourists we jumped with today were cute, but they’ve got absolutely nothing on Blake. For a moment, I imagine what it would be like to be more than friends, to get my hands on that tight body, claiming her as my own.

The thought is both a massive turn-on and terrifying—a woman like Blake isnotwhat I need. I want her anyway, more than I’ve ever wanted anyone. But it’s not like we’d ever go there. Blake has never looked at me like that; our long friendship has always been just that:platonic.

Liam holds up two fingers as we approach, and our regulars are already waiting on the bar by the time we get there. Blake winks at us, moving on to the next order, cocktail shaker in hand as she loads it with ice. “It’ll be on your tab, boys.”

“Put it on Patrick’s tab,” Liam replies, referring to his older brother. “He said it was fine.”

Blake shoos him away with a good-natured laugh. “Nice try, Liam.”

I pause for a moment, watching her. Two guys at the bar are flirting with her, but she handles them like a pro, keeping the banter light without encouraging them too much.

Somehow she manages to keep everything going, even with the chaos of a busy bar and a line of people waiting for drinks. Blake’s always been like that, coming across as completely capable, one of those girls that every guy secretly wants and every girl wants to be like.

Danny pops unexpectedly into my head, and along with it a side of my messy, unwanted grief. Missing my old friend never really goes away, and I hate how it all comes back without warning.

Blake and Danny were dating when he died, and despite how devastated she was, she picked herself up and carried on. It’s something I’ve always admired about her—her resilience, her strength—but I wonder if she gets hit with unexpected grief like this, too.

Liam nudges me with his elbow, snapping me out of my thoughts. “You okay, man? You’re staring.”

“Yeah, just enjoying the view.”

“Try not to be so obvious.”

Despite Liam shaking his head beside me, I watch her a moment longer. Blake catches my eye and gives me a smile, and what can only be described as pure happiness washes through me.

Small town living has its issues—the gossip, the sameness of it all—but I love this town, and I stay despite the restlessness that sometimes creeps in. Harbor’s Edge isn’t just a place—it’s the people, like Blake and Liam and the Valiant Hearts boys, the connections, the history.

Liam taps his watch and gives me a pointed look. “Come on, man. We’re already running late.”

Usually it’s me reminding Liam to be punctual, but we both know I lose all sense when I’m around her. I finally follow him to the rooftop, which is buzzing, tourists filling most of the tables, drinking and dancing under the fading sunlight. The music is loud, and I spot Jimbo, the pilot, at a corner table farthest away from the speakers.

Jimbo is an older man, his face deeply lined from years of exposure, with a scruffy beard and piercing eyes that see through any bullshit. He wears a worn leather jacket despite the heat, and a faded baseball cap with the logo of his small plane business.

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