Page 54 of Bastard Bartender

He looks down at his lap. “You wanna see my parts?”

I hit him in the chest. “No, you idiot. In here. Your heart. It’s pretty impressive.”

“You’re just saying that because I’m the cancer kid.”

“I’m saying that because you’re the man who kicked cancer’s ass twice. And, well, I’ve grown fond of you over the last few weeks.”

His gaze falls to my lips, and I release his hand, clearing my throat. As I push my hair behind my ear and look out the window, he places a hand on mine and pulls my attention back to him.

“For the record. I’ve grown fond of you too.”

A knock at the door pulls our attention away, and we look up to see a doctor walk into the room.

“Well, Mr. Santiago, let’s get you started.”

* * *

After a few hours in the office, Nic walks away with a good bill of health. I won’t lie. I was nervous. He looks great and is acting well, but I’ve never known someone going through health issues that he has. I could tell he was nervous too. He was quiet almost the entire time, which is uncommon for Nic. When the doctor said everything looked normal, Nic let out an exhale of relief and then made some ridiculous jokes that had me rolling my eyes and pulling him out of there.

We get back in the car, and I can feel the level of excitement racing through him as he backs up with more speed than before and drums his fingers along the steering wheel. Yes, he still won’t tell me where we’re going, so he’s driving my car.

“Now, do I get to know where we’re going?” I ask.

“Nope.” He pops the P as he reaches over to turn up the song on the radio, and he starts singing.

As he heads away from town, I wonder even more where we’re heading until we pull up to a small airport where Cessna planes line the runway, waiting for their opportunity to hit the sky.

“Are we going flying?” I check out our surroundings.

“Yes, and no.” He heads toward a hanger in the back.

I narrow my gaze at him. “How do you say yes and no to a question like that?”

“Well, yes, I’m going flying. I’ll take off in the plane, but I don’t intend on actually landing in said plane.”

I furrow my brow, not understanding where he’s going with this until I see a group of people gathering and the big word SKYDIVING written across the exterior of the building.

I turn to him with wide eyes as I gasp. “You’re going to jump out of a plane?”

He stops the car and puts it in park. “Sure am. Care to jump too? I asked yesterday, and they still had an open seat.”

“Are you crazy?” I fully turn toward him, slapping my hand on the dash. “There’s no way in hell I’d do such a thing.”

“Oh, come on. Why not?” He tilts his head like I’m being ridiculous.

“How many reasons do you want?” I ask, exasperated.

“I know it’s scary and a risk, but obviously, it’s safe, or it wouldn’t be a business that’s literally operated all over the world.”

“Just because it’s legal doesn’t mean it’s smart. Look at the effects alcohol can have on people, and that’s legal.”

“You do remember I’m a bartender, right? I actually pour the stuff that causes the effects as my job.”

I shake my head with a slight laugh. “You know what I mean.”

“Yes, I do. And I also know what it means to do things safely.”

“Do you know how many people die yearly from skydiving?” I raise my eyebrows and purse my lips.