Page 102 of When the Stars Rise

“We’ll figure it out,” he says. “As long as you want to be with me, that’s all that matters.”

“You know I do. I want it more than anything.” My eyelids are heavy, and I can’t hold back the yawn. He notices and laughs.

“We can talk about it more after the tour. In the meantime, we have two more weeks on the road, so let’s just focus on that.”

I give him a happy, drowsy smile. “Okay.”

He returns my smile and kisses my lips. “Okay.”

“We’re really going to make it work this time, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, we are. You’re it for me, Hales.”

I can’t stop smiling. I’m giddy with excitement. We’re together and happy, and for the first time in a long time, I can envision a future for us again. I know we can do this.

When the tour is over, we’ll work out our issues, make a few compromises on both sides and do whatever it takes to stay together.

I close my eyes with a contented sigh.

Everything feels so right.So perfect.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Noah

I climb over the railing,chute packed to go and every nerve ending in my body lit up. The Snake River meanders five hundred feet below me and the skies are blue for as far as the eye can see. I look over at Briggs as he climbs over the railing a little ways down from me. It’s our twelfth jump of the day and I’m fired up, ready to go. “Ready?”

“Hell yeah. Let’s go, dawg. You first. On the count of three.”

After counting to three, I hurl myself off the bridge and do a front flip, going into freefall for a few heart-stopping seconds before pulling my chute at the last possible second. Fuck, I love the high that gives me.

Adrenaline rushes through my veins and for five seconds I don’t have to think about anything except the jump. There’s no margin for error so I steer toward the landing spot on the riverbank.

I’m floating, the canopy inflated above me and I’m higher than high with all those natural feel-good chemicals flooding my body as the ground rushes up to meet me. My feet hit the dirt,the momentum carrying me and I jog a few paces before coming to a stop. Another jump on the books.

I turn just in time to watch Briggs heading toward me with a big-ass grin on his face.

“Oh yeah, baby!” he whoops when his feet hit the ground, kicking up a cloud of dirt.

We’re still buzzing from those five or six seconds of euphoria and sheer bliss as we pack our chutes, all ready to get back up there and do it again.

“It’s the climb back up that tires you out,” Briggs says as we trek through the canyon.

After the flat trail ends at the base of the bridge, it’s a near-vertical climb to the top—roughly the equivalent of climbing the stairs of a forty-five-story building but a bit more treacherous. So it’s a good workout.

“It’s a rush, though, right?” Briggs says.

“Hell yeah. I’m loving it.”

Doesn’t even matter that it’s not a competition. Briggs is built like a climber—a couple inches shorter than me, all lean muscle, and not an ounce of fat. We’re evenly matched, just trying to get in as many jumps as possible, so we’ve been taking off from the exit point together.

“Wind’s picking up,” Briggs says as a wayward wind fills the windsock then deflates only to fill up again.

“It’s a pretty strong headwind,” I say as we scramble hand-over-hand up the rocks. “We’ll stick with TARD-overs for now.”

I grab the rope and pull myself up the face of the rock to the top, where another path picks up. We stop to catch our breath and I take a long drink of water from my bottle, my eyes on the bridge where a guy in an orange T-shirt has just climbed over the railing, poised to jump.

The guy’s name is Carey. We met him and his fiancée earlier. Quite a few BASE jumpers are out today. It’s a tight-knit community, and we swapped stories about the places we’ve jumped—Carey’s favorite spot is Moab desert.