Page 61 of Finders Keepers

Moving towards me and I can see the question in his eyes, and I nod. He steadies me with his hands on my waist, although I’m prepared for it, I still jump at his touch.

The warmth of his touch radiates through the thin material of my blouse, and my breath catches slightly in my throat. I want to melt into this. To not flinch away. To not wonder what it’ll cost.

Gavin makes me nervous but in a way that feels human. Not like I’m waiting for the explosion, but like I’m afraid of being seen, of being known. I catch a whiff of his cologne and I breathe it in. It’s slowly becoming one of my favorite smells.

“Step in one leg at a time,” he instructs softly, his voice close to my ear. I follow his direction, trying to ignore the knot in my stomach as his hands stay firmly on my waist, helping me balance. The material rustles as I wiggle into it.

Once I’m in, he reaches for the zipper. “May I?”

I nod, not trusting my voice. As he slowly zips up the suit, the sound seeming impossibly loud in the quiet room, his fingers brush against my breast, sending a twinge through my body, it’s such a light tough that I don’t think he notices he did it and when he finishes, his eyes meet mine, intense and searching.

“You know,” he says, his voice low and intimate, barely above a whisper, “blue is definitely your color.” The words hang between us, charged with possibility.

My heart speeds up as he leans in closer, his warm breath fanning across my cheek, and I think for a moment he’s going to kiss me. Do I want him to kiss me? My mind spins with all the scenarios where if Matt could see me what he would do, how mad he would be.

Gavin’s serious expression breaks into a playful grin, and he gently taps my nose with his index finger.

“Boop!”

I blink aback. “Did you just boop my nose?” My cheeks flush warm, caught between embarrassment and delight at his playful gesture.

“I absolutely did,” he says proudly, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Come on, let’s go learn how to fly.” He extends his hand and I stare at it. My pulse quickening. Every instinct in me screams to keep my distance, to protect myself.

Matt’s voice echoes in my head.“Don’t embarrass me, Bailey”

But I push it down. This isn’t Matt. This is Gavin, with his kind eyes and gentle touch.

“It’s just a hand,” he says softly, noticing my hesitation. “No pressure.”

My fingers twitch at my side. I want this. I want to feel normal again, to touch someone without fear.

I take a deep breath and place my hand in his. His fingers are warm and strong as they close around mine. It’s not a possessive grip, just connection.

“Alright,” he says with a grin.

A small thrill runs through me, like I’ve accomplished something monumental. And maybe I have. One month ago, I wouldn’t have been able to do this—to trust a man I barely know, to let him hold my hand without panicking about the consequences.

We walk together toward the indoor skydiving chamber, our jumpsuits swishing with each step. His thumb absently brushes across my knuckles, and I don’t pull away.

“You nervous?” he asks.

“About the flying or the handholding?” The words slip out before I can stop them.

He laughs, the sound warm and rich. “Both valid sources of anxiety.”

“I’m working on being brave,” I admit. “Small steps.”

“This doesn’t seem small to me,” he says, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. “Seems pretty courageous, actually.”

Something unfurls in my chest. A feeling I haven’t experienced in so long I almost don’t recognize it. Is this pride? Am I proud of myself? For running. For starting over. For this moment right now, walking hand-in-hand with a man who makes me feel safe instead of scared.

I squeeze his hand back, just once, just lightly. It’s my way of saying thank you-for understanding, for not pushing, for making this feel like a choice instead of an obligation.

One brief training session and instructional video later, it’s Gavin’s turn first. I pull out my phone as he enters the wind tunnel with the instructor, adjusting the protective gear they’d given us. The powerful fans start up with a whoosh, and suddenly he’s floating, his face lit up with pure joy.

“Go Gavin!” I cheer, snapping pictures as he figures out how to maneuver. He gets the hang of it quickly, moving smoothly up and down in the column of air with the instructor like he was born to do this. The instructor helps him spin in a slow circle, and he flashes me a thumbs up, and I snap another picture. Sixty seconds later the wind is dying down and he comes back down, looking exhilarated.

“Your boyfriend’s a natural,” the instructor says when they finish, adjusting his headset. “Your turn!”

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