“What?” Beck asks. Now he does look stunned. Ten minutes ago, he was sprinting across the field like a god, and now he looks so startled a light breeze could knock him over. I don’t even think he’s trying to draw this out or get me to say it again. I think I genuinely took him completely off guard.

“Did I pronounce it wrong?” I roll my eyes, even though it’s totally possible. “I love you, Beck.” I say the unfamiliar words with a little more conviction this time, because I actually know what I’m saying, and I’m rewarded with a crooked grin that grows and grows until it transforms the handsome features I now know better than my own.

“Ich liebe dich auch. I love you, too,” Beck replies, and I realize why he looked so completely gobsmacked seconds ago. Because it’s one thing to hear others exchange those words, or to say them in different combinations.

It’s another matter entirely to have someone say them to you.

To hear them ring with sincerity.

“Uh, okay then.” I flash him a giddy smile that betrays any indifference my casual words convey.

“Okay then,” he echoes, still grinning. “This is alleviating a lot of worries about the surprise proposal I planned for tonight.”

That gets my attention. “You didn’t.” I study his face, trying to draw the truth out of those chiseled features.

“I don’t know. Did I?” Blue eyes dance.

“I’ll turn you down.”

A broad grin splits stone, transforming from teasing to delight. “Yeah, right,” Beck scoffs.

He’s got reason to be confident. Ever since I agreed to give us a try, his record on convincing me to say yes is pretty spotless. Even disallowing his dirtier tricks.

“Guess you’ll just have to ask me and find out then,” I challenge.

Beck accepts it with a smirk. “Okay, I will.”

“Okay,” I volley back.

Beck takes a step closer to me, compressing our little bubble further. “What did you think of the game?”

“Let’s go find a storage closet, and I’ll show you.”

Beck chuckles as he uses my waist to tug my body flush with his. “I love you, Saylor Scott.”

There are a dozen witty quips waiting on my tongue, but for once I opt for sincerity. “I love you, Adler Beck.”

He kisses me. In the very spot where we first met.

And this time, I don’t critique.

I don’t deflect.

I don’t flee.

For the first and final time, I let myself fully fall.

The End

Author’s Note

Thank you so much for taking the time to read First Flight, Final Fall. I hope you enjoyed Saylor and Beck’s story!

Please take a moment to rate or review this book. It’s an irreplaceable way to help me reach new readers, but more importantly, I’d love to hear your thoughts!

All the best,