When We Are Falling (Valiant Hearts #2)

Chapter 1

Ethan

People ask me why I jump. They probably expect some kind of deep answer—how I commune with God or feel at one with the universe as I’m falling at 120 miles per hour out of a plane. The truth is, I do it because it’s the closest I’ll ever get to losing control, and part of me craves it.

In the freefall, there’s a raw, unfiltered sense of freedom. The adrenaline and euphoria hit hard, and it’s just me and the endless sky, a series of moments where I’m at the mercy of the wind.

We’re taking up a couple of tourists and some jumpers from Ohio today, and the plane hums as we ascend. The tourists, two thrill-seeking girls in their mid-twenties, look like they’re questioning their sanity right about now. One’s a blond with a nervous laugh that bubbles up every few minutes, while the other, a brunette, grips the edge of her seat, eyes wide.

My partner, Liam O’Connor, is doing his part, chatting and keeping everyone calm. He’s the sweet, charming one, the oil that keeps the engine of our business running smoothly. It helps that the ladies all love him. Me: I only turn on the charm when there’s something I really want.

“Alright, everyone, listen up!” Everyone’s heads snap to me. “Remember to keep your eyes on me and follow my lead. You’re going to have the time of your lives.”

Liam looks at the two girls. “And if you don’t, you can take it up with customer service—oh wait, that’s me.”

They laugh nervously, hanging on our every word, their wide-eyed glances bouncing between the two of us. There’s fear, but also excitement. It’s a look I know well.

The trio from Ohio—two men and a woman with an impressive tattoo sleeve, all in their forties—are chatting between themselves. They’re pretty experienced, but even so, one of the men’s legs bobs up and down as his heel taps the floor, and the woman is playing with a bracelet around one wrist, sliding the beads one at a time through her fingers.

I check the straps on the harness of the blond tourist who’s paired with me. She’s pretty in a conventional kind of way—cute smile. Her friend is with Liam, who’s in full charm mode, cracking jokes and easing nerves, while the solo jumpers are getting in the zone, checking their rigs and preparing for the jump.

As we approach the drop zone, the blond woman turns to me. “How does your mom cope with having a son who throws himself out of planes?”

I stiffen slightly. “She hates it.”

She must see something in my eyes because she looks away, a brief awkward silence following.

“She’s probably got a hotline to the skydiving gods.” Liam grins. “Praying he lands safely every time. But hey, with a track record like his, she’s got nothing to worry about.”

She lets out another uneasy laugh just as we reach the drop zone, and thankfully it’s go time. I check everyone’s rigs then attach the blond tourist to my harness. She’s gone stiff, tension snaking through her.

“Hey, look at me. It’ll be awesome.” My voice is low as I hold her gaze until she nods. Looking up, my eyes sweep the plane, checking on the other jumpers. “Alright, everyone, remember to arch.”

The door opens, and cold wind rushes in, roaring in my ears. All the details of Harbor’s Edge look tiny down below, and there’s nothing between me and the ground, but I’m not nervous. There’s risk in the things we do, but every aspect is carefully controlled.

Looking over my shoulder: “Let’s do this.”

I leap out with the tourist strapped to me, her anxious giggle turning into a scream as we freefall, but the rush drowns it out.

Wind blasts my face, and we’re both soaring and dropping at the whims of the currents. It’s a dance of speed and gravity, with the earth rushing up to meet us all the while.

For these brief, breathtaking moments, air tugs at my body, and I’ve only got my training and instincts to navigate the descent, the sensation of weightlessness, and the raw power of the elements all around.

The wind engulfs us in a rush, the world below blurring into a dizzying mosaic of colors and sensations. The solo jumpers hold hands in formation, grinning into a GoPro before letting go, their movements smooth and practiced, while Liam—strapped to the other tourist—flashes me a thumbs up.

I glance at the altimeter on my wrist, watching the numbers drop rapidly. The freefall is both eternal and fleeting, a paradox of time.

Just as the ground starts to come into clearer focus, I pull the cord. There’s the sudden, reassuring jerk as the canopy deploys, and we’re yanked upward, our rapid descent slowing into a peaceful glide. The transition from freefall to serene floating always amazes me, the canopy allowing the time to take it all in.

“Wow, that was incredible.” The blond tourist lets out a whoop, straining against her harness to glance over her shoulder at me.

Harbor’s Edge sprawls below, beautiful with the Pine Barrens meeting the Jersey Shore, the ocean sparkling under the heat of the summer sun. I point out a few landmarks, including the lighthouse and the pier, even though Liam’s better at this part than I am.

We soon approach our landing spot in a field just out of town. “Remember to pick your feet up and let me take the impact.”

She follows my lead, and we reach the ground, me taking a couple of brisk steps before coming to a gentle stop, the grass cushioning our touchdown, the canopy dropping behind us. Liam lands a moment later, and the tourists are grinning from ear to ear, their faces glowing with the thrill of the jump. We help them out of their gear, me being careful to maintain a professional distance as I unclip the blond woman’s harness. It’s hot down here, and we offer the girls bottled water.

“That was amazing! Thank you so much!” She hugs me tightly and exchanges a look with her friend. “If you boys want to meet for a drink later, we’re free all afternoon?”

“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 definitely never mix 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 is not what 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.

We weave through the crowd and take our seats. “Evening, fellas.” Jimbo greets us with a nod.

“Evening,” I reply, settling in. We chat about today’s jump and the loads for tomorrow. The conversation flows easily until Jimbo shifts gears, leaning in slightly as he looks at me.

“You know, with your skills and eye for business, you could really take this to the next level. Ever thought about teaming up with other operators or expanding your services?”

I take a sip of ice cold beer, shaking my head. “I prefer to keep things simple. Keep control so there’s less scope for mistakes. Besides, Liam and I have got a good thing going.”

Liam nods in agreement, echoing my sentiments. “Yeah, we’ve got a solid operation and bookings through to the end of the season. No need to complicate things.”

Jimbo studies us for a moment, then shrugs. “Fair enough. But just think about it. You’ve got potential for something bigger.” He finishes his drink and stands, giving us a casual salute before heading off through the crowd.

I watch him go, mulling over his words. Expanding is tempting—more opportunities, bigger business. But the thought of having to rely on others twists something in my gut. I know too well the chaos that can come from too many moving parts, too many people trying to take charge.

Partnerships mean complications. The more people involved, the higher the chance of things going wrong, and I’ve seen enough of when it goes wrong to know I don’t want any more.

Liam leans back in his chair, looking out over the crowd. “He’s got a point, you know. We could get bigger, and bigger means more money.”

I shake my head, more firmly this time. “No. We’re doing fine. No need to change what works.”

Liam shrugs, his usual easygoing self. “You’re the boss.”

I appreciate his support. Our partnership works because he trusts my judgment, and I value how hard he works, how he’s not afraid to go all-in on one of my ideas.

Liam says goodbye, leaving me to finish the last of my drink as the sun sets. I take a moment to savor the peace, the horizon stretching out over the marina, a blend of colors that promise adventure and freedom.

The music continues to play, laughter and chatter filling the rooftop. But I block it all out as the colors of the sunset deepen. Tomorrow brings another jump, another rush, and another chance to live life on my own terms.

And that’s exactly how I like it.