I skipped down a trail that went along the spine of the green hills of Extremadura, Trent following closely behind me. He and I had rented a car and driven to southwestern Spain, wanting to explore for the day, see more of this passionate country.

We needed fresh air after the week we’d spent in class. One would think that I’d already been on the roller coaster ride of emotions—from stoked to see him, to wanting to spit on the ground he walked, to feeling sorry for him and then tentatively opening up. But after spending a weekend in bed with him, going back to the class was an entirely new set of challenges.

Two hours a day, three days a week, hiding my nascent amorous feelings from two dozen pairs of interested eyes.

Let’s just say we needed to get out of town, and I thought we’d like going for a hike. As usual, Trent was up for anything I suggested.

“They say that in the spring, this area is covered with bright red poppies. I’d love to see that. Like out of a movie or something.” Spinning around under the blue sky, my arms flung out, I felt like I was reenacting the opening sequence of The Sound of Music.

Trent’s tone was light, though his words somehow made my belly flutter. “You’d stay in one place long enough?”

Tilting to my head to the side, my finger on my lip, I thought about lingering.

Would I want to stay in Spain that long?

Kinda, yeah. Especially if Trent was part of the package.

Giving him a big smile, I wrapped him in a bear hug, my head against his chest. “I don’t know. I never have. But it might be cool.”

His big arms held me as he kissed the top of my head. “Yeah. I wonder what it would look like from the air. The hills all covered in red poppies as far as you could see.”

“So beautiful, I’m sure.”

I disentangled myself and trotted down the path, spying a ruin up on a hill above us maybe a half mile away. “Oh, let’s go look at that! Race you!”

He grinned and chased after me.

For some reason, Spain had an interesting, old damaged building on every hilltop, without a sign or any explanation of what it was. For all we knew, it could be hundreds of years old and culturally or historically significant. But nope, no way of knowing.

Only in Spain. Castle on the hill. NBD.

When we reached the ruin, we had a great vantage point to check out the tapestry of the undulating hills spread out before us like a patchwork quilt of brick red earth, silvery-green olive trees, and freshly paved black roads. “This view is amazing,” I marveled.

“Agreed.”

Climbing over the rocks and around the knee-high weeds, we discovered the castle consisted of an empty collection of stones with no roof, no windows, and no doors. An outline of an old foundation and a fallen chimney made me think it was a residence. But it definitely used to be something interesting, with this vista below. Made you feel like a king or queen even if you weren’t. I sat on the closest comfy-looking rock and sipped my water bottle. Trent stood before me, his hand behind his neck, taking in the expansive sight.

“Kinda makes you feel like you’re flying, being this high up,” I said.

“When you’re flying, the landscape is even tinier, like miniature dollhouses. I love to jump.”

“That’s right! You were airborne. With Degan.”

“Yeah.” He took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair. “We wanted to do that, you know? We specifically signed up for it. The recruiter sent us to Alaska for training—”

“I remember—”

“And we each have forty-seven jumps.”

“Wow,” I said. “I can’t imagine going up in a plane and not coming back down in it.”

“It’s kind of crazy,” he admitted with a chuckle. “But it’s such a rush.”

“I’d like to try it. Can you even do it in Spain?”

He looked at me as if I were crazy. “No way.”

My thoughts stuttered to a halt, and I put my hand on my hip. “What do you mean, no way?”

Turning around and crouching before me, his sincere eyes met mine. “I’d worry too much about your safety.”

Part of me melted that he cared. But the dominant part of me rose up, defiant. “Uh, Trent. I can do whatever I want. Can we say double standard? You did it dozens of times.”

He sat down next to me. “I value your life more than mine.”

Again, causing the war within, Trent Milner. The fighting part of me wouldn’t quit. “I don’t think that’s healthy, Trent. I’m not a delicate jewel to keep in a box. I’m in it for the adventure. Haven’t you figured that out? I’m in this life to feel everything. I take risks. I take chances. I’d go skydiving in a second.”

“And that makes me so nervous.” He gave me a tight smile. “You are that jewel in a box. I want to keep you all secure and comfy, surrounded by cushions so nothing happens to you. I care too much to see you get hurt. And I’ve experienced too much hurt lately to want to chance any more damage to you or anyone else.”

I reached over and laid my hand on his, reconsidering. “I’m so sorry, I don’t want to cause you any trauma. I just think it would be fun to do it. I bet you can’t skydive in Spain anyway.”

“It is fun. I mean, you’re flying. You and nothing. Just you and the sky. Sometimes you catch warm air and stay up there, suspended, just you and the elements. It’s such a rush.”

“I bet.” I leaned over and kissed him. “And you may just find out that jewel in the box is a rock-hard diamond who can handle anything.”

After wandering around the ruin for a few more minutes, we turned and walked back to the car. When we got there, I opened my phone and Googled a lingering question. “Did you know that yes, you can go skydiving in Spain?”

“Seriously?” He turned on the car.

I put on my seatbelt. “Seriously.”

As he backed out of the parking lot to head back to Granada, he said, “Dani. I lost your brother. I’m not losing you, too. Will you do me a favor and not jump out of any planes?”

Reaching over to squeeze his hand, my heart did a little flip flop. “Okay.”

“I’ll find a safer way to get you to fly.”

“Deal.”

* * *

A few days later on a morning we didn’t have class, Trent bounded up to my apartment, with the anticipation of a spaniel who knows he’s been a good dog and is gonna get a treat. “I found something.” He planted a light kiss on my lips.

Hooking my hand behind his neck, I pulled him into a deeper kiss, which then got a little out of hand, with his hands in my hair and mine in his back pockets.

We kept going until our tongue-filled kiss turned into little kisses and more little kisses, not wanting to break apart. Wanting to be connected.

When we finally separated, I asked breathlessly, “What?”

He grinned and showed me a screen on his phone.

Still totally confused. “What is that?”

“Put on a T-shirt and comfy pants,” he ordered. “Tennis shoes, too. We’re going to Madrid.”

“What?” I gasped. “Now?”

“I told you I’d find you a way to fly…”

I squealed and ran to get ready.

A half hour later, I cuddled next to him on the rápido train headed north to Madrid.

As the countryside whizzed by, punctuated by billboards of black bulls on hilltops, I rapped my fingers with excitement on the armrest. “Are you gonna tell me what we’re doing?”

He cocked his head to the side. God, what a fucking attractive travel partner. “I’m debating.”

I kept crossing and uncrossing my legs, digging in my purse, wondering where we were going. But he wouldn’t tell me.

When we got to Madrid, we exited the Atocha train station and waited in a taxi line.

“You’re gonna have to tell me where we’re going,” I said. “Unless you tell the driver in Spanish.”

“I’ll just show the driver the address.”

With a huff, I crossed my arms over my chest, then gave him a grin. “I’m so psyched! Am I gonna like it?”

“Absolutely, yes.” He held my hand and gave it a squeeze.

We dove into the next taxi, and Trent showed the driver the address on his phone. I was lost. I had no idea where we were going, and I loved it. I loved the adventure, seeing the busy, grand city all around us. But we kept going, from the center of the city to the outskirts, until we pulled up at a huge industrial building—

“Indoor skydiving?”

He beamed. “C’mon.”

After we checked in, we were assigned an instructor, who spoke English and welcomed us effusively. He asked us about our skill level. While Trent was an expert, I readily admitted I had no idea what we were doing and asked all kinds of questions.

“Normally a skydive is about forty-five seconds of freefall,” the instructor said. “This is sixty, and you will get to do it twice.”

“Ohmigod,” I whispered.

“First you need to get your flight suits. You can put them on over your clothing.”

We followed the instructor to get suited up. I must say, Trent with the top half of the suit hanging down his waist, his tight T-shirt stretching as he slid his arms in the suit, was an erotic sight. “Your suit is specially designed with grips that the instructors are trained to latch onto.”

After we were dressed, I asked, “How does this work?”

“We have a vertical wind tunnel with fans at the top to draw air through the chamber. The air gets pushed down the side, compressed, and sped up, then it reenters the chamber. You get to fly on a cushion of air.”

“You get to fly,” Trent whispered in my ear, his lips caressing my skin.

“Holy shit, yes!” I turned to the instructor. “Will I be able to breathe?”

“Yes. It’s like sticking your head out a car window while driving.”

I bounced on my toes, my stomach fluttering, my skin prickling all over. I donned the helmet and goggles.

“Do he and I get to go together?”

“Yes,” said the instructor, with a smile. “We take up groups at once. You can be together.”

While we waited our turn, I fussed with the flight suit, hovering in the waiting area, watching the people go before us.

What a thrill.

They stepped in the chamber, and then with a whoosh of air, they floated, arms outstretched, legs in the scissor position, reaching for each other, laughing and floating around in a cushion of air while an instructor positioned them.

“It’s a lot safer than jumping out a plane,” he said apologetically.

“Don’t be sorry. I’m so excited!”

When it was our turn, we stepped into the chamber.

My heart thumped so fast. I covered my face and then peeked at the instructor.

“Ready?” he asked.

I nodded.

With a gush of air, I was propelled off the ground, my feet higher than my body, Trent beside me. Involuntarily, I started giggling, the exhilaration of flight taking over me. I moved from side to side, padded by the air below me, as the instructor stilled me and then set me off again.

Meanwhile, Trent did some tricks. A somersault, then he came over to me and held my hand. His eyes through the goggles caught on mine.

“Babe, you’re flying!”

“Is this what it felt like?”

“Yes! Without all the fear beforehand. It’s just the moment of flying.”

Together, we soared in the wind tunnel, holding hands.

My mind was swept of all thought, my body liberated from Earth, untethered to anything but what I wanted—Trent’s hand and the guidance of the instructor.

Too soon, our sixty seconds were up, and gravity took us over. Too fast.

I felt heavy, my legs sluggish, like when you get out of a pool and feel your full body weight again.

As we waited to go again, I asked Trent, “Is this what you and Degan wanted to do?”

He smiled. “Yeah, babe.”

“I get it,” I said. “I absolutely get it. What a ride. You were free.”