Page 64 of The Love Bus

STILL NOT SCARED

“A nd Tay isn’t mad?”

It felt weird ditching everyone on the bus—like we were breaking some unspoken tour rule and definitely risking detention.

“Not exactly.” Noah gave a half-smile, his eyes gleaming. “She may have said something along the lines of how dare we abandon her, but then she gave us her blessing, as long as we meet up with the group at the West Rim Hotel tonight.”

And even though I should have felt worse about sneaking off, I didn’t. I mean, how could I? Sitting on this shuttle, driving toward a destination unknown, with Noah’s gaze on me, hot, heavy, and…full of promise.

I laughed, the sound bubbling up before I could stop it.

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.

“So...this is the one you couldn’t walk away from?”

Noah didn’t answer. And from the corner of my eye, I saw the small shake of his head, eyes narrowed, before he followed me into the briefing room.

And just like that, the comment slipped to the back of my mind.

There was a helicopter ride ahead and a whole lot of other things to feel nervous about.

A short safety talk followed—rotor awareness, seatbelt checks, “ don’t open the doors midair” (obviously)—and then Rocky guided us back outside with four other passengers to the helicopter, which looked both sleek and terrifying.

Like a wasp made of glass and…hope.

Noah helped me in, insisting I take the window seat. We clipped on our headsets. And the moment he took my hand, I had this feeling.

This is right. This is it.

He just looked at me. You okay? his eyes asked.

I nodded.

The blades spun faster. The engine roared.

And then we lifted.

It wasn’t like a plane. There was no runway, no build-up. Just earth beneath us one moment, and sky the next. The ground dropped away and suddenly, the world felt impossibly large. And even though it made me feel incredibly small, that was okay.

Within minutes, we crested the canyon, and the view? It just opened up beneath us, the rainbow of reds and golds stealing the breath from my lungs.

The Colorado River shimmered far below, a silver thread that had carved through layers and layers of stone, each stratum telling a story millions of years old.

When I turned to look at Noah, he was already watching me, and his hand on my leg gave a little squeeze.

And in that moment, I realized that I still wasn’t scared.

Limitless.

Like I had felt back at the amusement park when I’d been suspended over another canyon. Like I had felt climbing up to that waterfall, feeling the pulse of bravery I’d forgotten even existed.

Every moment I’d felt more like myself lately, Noah had been there.

At the same time, I wondered if there was such a thing as too much bravery.

Was sharing my heart with this man—even just for a fling—more dangerous than flying over the Grand Canyon?

It was a question I didn’t want to answer.

But as we soared above the edge of the world, and Noah pulled me just a little closer, I already knew.

If it was, it was worth it.

* * *

“Today must have cost a fortune,” I said, glancing over at Noah from where I sat beside him in another shuttle, this one traveling west, to where we’d meet up with the group later tonight. “Let me pay for part of it. At least the helicopter.”

Noah just smiled and shook his head gently. “It was as much for me as it was for you.”

“Which is why I should pay for my half?—”

“Luna. Let me do this. Please.” A part of me r eally wanted to insist on paying my own way, but the look in his eyes stopped me.

It wasn’t ego. Just…sincerity. Like it really had been for him as much as for me. And how did a girl argue with that kind of reasoning?

“Alright. Thank you.” The words came out a little breathier than I intended. I could feel that lump in my throat again, the kind that had snuck up on me more than once this trip.

Noah had, in fact, taken care of everything—right down to arranging for a shuttle to take us to the west rim, which was a full five-hour drive!

And since we’d left the El Tovar at seven that morning, it was no wonder that I slept for the few hours before we stopped for lunch.

It didn’t hurt that apparently I could sleep anywhere when I had Noah’s shoulder to fall asleep on.

By the time we arrived at the West Rim Hotel, the sun was high in the sky, already cooking the earth. But it didn’t take long to sense that this side of the canyon felt different from the parts we’d seen from above, or the south rim.

This place felt more…commercial.

There were signs everywhere. Branded walkways.

Buses shuttling people between buildings.

And the Skywalk Visitor Center, where the shuttle dropped us off, looked more like a modern shopping mall than part of a national park.

The canyon itself felt a little electric here.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that we were so close to Las Vegas?

But weirdly, with Noah, I didn’t mind.

It didn’t matter what we did. We could just have fun together.

First stop: the Skywalk.

I hadn’t expected it to feel like much—just a curved glass bridge suspended over a canyon. No big deal. But.

Holy Guacamole.

Right past my feet, which were wearing little blue booties, I could see straight through the floor…to the bottom of the canyon.

In hindsight, I really should have seen this coming. How crazy it felt. Dizzying.

“Why does this feel way more terrifying than the helicopter?” I was only joking, though. Like sixty percent joking. Mostly because it gave me an excuse to cling to Noah’s arm.

Not that I needed one.

He laughed. At first. Then he was the one looking down. And Noah, my brave beautiful man , turned pale.

“Oh, Christ.” He stopped mid-step. “Okay. That’s not okay. I didn’t think—hold on, I just need to?—”

And then he sat down.

Right there. On the glass.

“Just don’t look down,” I said, laughing as I knelt beside him. I wanted to tease but also comfort him, especially after how supportive he’d been with me. “You okay?”

“Did you just say don’t look down?”

“Hush.” I reached out and touched his mouth, fighting a grin. “I’m not the one sitting on the floor right now.”

“True.”

“Just hold my hand and breathe,” I whispered, adding with a little extra teasing lilt, “Grady.”

He grinned. “You’re pretty adorable when you mock me, you know that?”

But then his eyes flicked back down for a split second, and he immediately clenched them shut again.

“I’m not proud of this,” he mumbled, voice a little strained. “It’s so much worse when you can see straight through it.”

I crouched closer, my grin widening. This man , who’d wanted to hurl himself down whitewater rapids, who’d admitted to jumping out of airplanes, was completely undone by a glass floor.

“What I would give to take a picture of this.” Jokingly, but also…because I never wanted to forget this moment.