Chapter 22 Sebastian #2
Sebastian had just sat down, but as the silence permeated—he knew it was his turn to talk, but for the life of him he couldn’t think of what to say—he pushed his chair back away from the table and began to stand.
He couldn’t help but notice how red and puffy her eyes were from all the tears, and how beautiful it was that, though she had clearly taken the time to change out of her running gear, she hadn’t made any attempts with makeup to cover the humanity etched all over her face.
What was he supposed to say to that? “Well, I should get back—”
“No way. Not yet.” She pointed her left index finger down toward the chair, signaling him to sit. He wasn’t quite sure why
he did it, but he did. “You don’t get to leave until we talk about your little stint as the Wichita Lineman.”
“Rhinestone Cowboy.”
“Whatever.”
She stared at him, amusement written across her face, and he stared back. “What can I say? I try to give the people what they
want.”
Her head bobbed up and down and she laughed softly. “Seems like you do it well. There’s no denying you have a very satisfied
clientele.”
“Well...” He pulled his eyes away as the sensation of heat spreading up his neck took him by surprise. He was going to
say something about how he hadn’t gotten any complaints, but the good-natured feel of their banter suddenly felt a little
too flirty. And sure, he knew that was rich after having to remind himself more than once, when they were in a tree together,
to stay focused on the task at hand rather than the task his hands wanted to focus on. But he’d meant what he’d said to Andi. Maybe his self-control was getting a workout for the first time in a
while, but he could resist Brynn Cornell, no matter how beautiful she was.
It was the conversations that were going to get him in trouble.
He stood up and pushed the chair back to the table. “Need anything else to drink, or are you good with just water?”
The humor left her eyes. “Water’s fine, thanks.
” She seemed to be biting the inside of her cheek, and her eyes focused on the table, her phone, out the window—suddenly anywhere but on him.
“Um . . .” She cleared away the frog in her throat and still refused to look at him. “Thanks again for earlier.”
“Like I said, no problem.”
“I don’t just mean the tree, Sebastian. I mean, obviously the tree. But... yeah... thanks.”
He swallowed the forming lump and leaned one hand on the table as he said quietly, “Don’t forget I still have about four minutes
and forty seconds on my tab.”
She tilted her chin and met his eyes. “I think you earned the right to make fun of me however you want.”
He’d been going for lighthearted, but in an instant, his heart was broken by her. For her. “I won’t,” he whispered and then swallowed hard. “Hold back on the ‘Rhinestone Cowboy’ jokes, and we’ll consider that
debt paid in full.”
“Deal.”
Their eyes stayed in lockstep with each other until she abruptly declared, “I’m going to go get a little fresh air.” She turned
her head and downed what was left of her water and then set the glass down a little too hard, which made her chuckle to herself.
As if Sebastian was owed an explanation, she looked up at him and said, “I need to be careful. I already have a glassware
tab at this place.”
In response, Sebastian smiled at her. Why did he smile at her? What in the world was she even talking about?
He watched her walk away and tried to piece together as many context clues about her—about who she really was—as he could.
Nothing about what he’d seen from her today matched with her Sunup persona. This Brynn Cornell looked and talked nothing like the network-crafted America’s Sweetheart or Girl Next Door or Heidi the Happy
Helium Balloon or whatever her nickname was.
This girl almost seemed like she belonged in Adelaide Springs.
He’d climb trees with this woman any day—at least he would if she wrangled up some clothes appropriate for the occasion.
Her socks were probably from the Louis Vuitton As-Casual-As-We’re-Willing-to-Go winter line.
But even that wasn’t seeming like enough of a deterrent right then, as an image of her with her hair pulled up in a ponytail and wearing his baggy purple Northwestern Wildcats hoodie barged into his brain and began assaulting his senses.
“Do you mind if I go with you?” he asked, but thankfully she was already gone. How long had she been gone? One second he’d
been looking at her, and then for the next however many he’d been staring at that unwelcome fantasy version of her in his
head. It was that version he’d asked to accompany outside. And that version didn’t exist.
He shook it off and headed back behind the bar. Six different PTA ladies were waiting on him when he got there. Two of them
wanted margaritas, three wanted wine, and if he’d understood the drunken slurs properly, the sixth wanted him to join her
in Tampa for the annual homeschool parent conference.
He had learned how to tend a mean bar. He would even pull out a little “One Way or Another” and do his best Coyote Ugly on the bar if it pleased the crowd. Two notes to self, Sebastian: (1) We don’t have “One Way or Another” on 8-track. (2) Cole must never know that you even mentally,
to yourself, referenced Coyote Ugly. But he absolutely drew the line at whatever sort of American Gigolo insanity happened at homeschool conferences.
Laila came out of the kitchen carrying a tray full of entrees, and Cole stepped out right behind her. He untied the strings
from around his waist and slung his apron over Sebastian’s shoulder.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Sebastian asked. “I’ve got to get back onstage in a minute. There’s a cassette of ‘Sunshine
on My Shoulders’ over there calling my name.”
“I need to go talk to Brynn.” He looked around the room and landed on the now empty table with a menu and water glass on it in the corner. “Where’d she go?”
“She wanted some air.” Sebastian motioned toward the front door. Cole began walking that way. “Is everything okay?”
Cole turned back to him, and there was emotion in his eyes that Sebastian was pretty sure he’d never seen there before in
the six years he’d known him. “Laila says she’s back.”
He’d always considered himself a proficient and reliable judge of character. He’d known when military generals were lying
to him. He’d known when presidents and dictators were keeping something from him. What was it about a beautiful, complicated,
intelligent woman that clouded his judgment and made him question what was real and what wasn’t?
“Look, Cole, I just don’t want to see you guys get hurt. She’s not back... you know? At the end of the week she’s going to go back to her life and—”
Cole held up his hand to stop him. “Thanks for your concern, Seb. Really. I understand where you’re coming from, and I appreciate
it. But...” He looked down at his feet and then back at Sebastian, and the emotion had only compounded. “Brynn’s our family.
You don’t refuse to take a chance on the people you love just because there might be some pain involved.”
Whatever words or arguments Sebastian may have attempted to bring forth got caught in his throat.
He nodded once and slugged Cole on the arm as he walked past toward the door.
Then he took a few steps to the right and angled himself so he could see outside.
The lights on the porch caught Brynn’s silhouette as she turned to the sound of the screen door opening.
She had her arms wrapped around herself, and Sebastian quickly darted his eyes to the back table, where her puffy, white three-quarter-length coat was folded over the back of her chair.
He contemplated grabbing it and running it out to her—or asking Laila to, since she would certainly be a much more welcome intruder—but as soon as the gesture entered his mind, it was deemed unnecessary.
The shadows flickered, pulling back his gaze just in time to see Cole wrap his arms around Brynn’s shoulders and pull her
against his chest. Her arms encircled his torso, and the tears streaming down her cheeks glinted in the harsh yellow light
shining down on them. Cole kissed the top of her head and seemed to say something into her hair that made her laugh. She pulled
back and looked up at him, and with their faces just inches from each other, they laughed in a way that was far too intimate
and comfortable considering they were, by all accounts, strangers now.
Laila walked behind the bar and followed his gaze. Sebastian knew he should pull away now that he’d been caught spying—ideally
he would have pulled away just before that point—but he couldn’t. And as Laila joined him, linking her arms with his, which
were folded across his chest, and resting her head on his bicep, he felt like maybe it was okay to keep spying. Good thing.
“They dated, you know.”
Well, okay. That got him to tear his eyes away. He looked down at the blond locks against his arm, but she kept watching the patio. “Cole
and Brynn?” She nodded—not that she could have possibly been talking about anyone else. “No, I didn’t know that.”
“I think they actually would have been perfect together, if they didn’t love each other so much.”
Sebastian chuckled and let his eyes return to the patio.
They were still standing with their arms wrapped around each other, chatting, laughing, and crying.
Something about the intimacy of the scene made him feel cold and isolated.
He uncrossed his arms and threw his right arm around Laila’s shoulder.
She effortlessly slipped against his side, generously sharing her warmth with him.
It felt like as good a time as any to ask the question that, in six years, he’d never been brave enough to ask—although it was always right there.
Front of mind and on the tip of his tongue.
“Why didn’t you and Cole ever get together? You love each other too much?”
She didn’t look at him in surprise or pull back, or even take in a deep breath. Nothing changed. She just calmly replied,
“Nah. We love each other just the right amount.”
He wasn’t sure what that meant, exactly, but he knew he didn’t need to. Laila seemed to understand it perfectly.
Her left hand squeezed against his belt, and then she pulled away and picked up her tray from the bar. “I think you’re due
for another song.”
He suddenly felt so tired. He was no longer interested in distracting himself from the things he didn’t want to think about,
and the adrenaline that had been fueling the distraction had all been spent anyway. But as the food on their tables ran out,
and with the chef MIA, he knew he only had two options to appease the ladies of the Adelaide Springs Parent Teacher Association.
He could slip a little melatonin into their drinks and drive them all safely home, or he could once again cover the figurative
eyes of his Pulitzers so they wouldn’t think less of him and pour his heart into his next performance.
With a sacrificial sigh he yelled out over his shoulder, “Are we ready for more?” His call to action was met by the return
of thunderous hoots and hollers as well as amused smiles from the porch as Cole and Brynn turned and caught his eye through
the door. Cole seemed to be filling Brynn in on what that was all about, and with each word her smile grew bigger.
And the longer Sebastian stood looking at her, and her back at him, the more he questioned his usually astute instincts.
He had no idea what to make of her. All he knew right then was that his instincts were telling him to try to look cool by hopping over the bar like Patrick Swayze in Road House or something.
Proof positive that his instincts misled him on occasion.
Thankfully his forty-year-old body kept his mind in check. Instead of attempting a move that inevitably would have resulted
in broken dishes and quite likely a broken tailbone, he walked around, crossed to the stage through the throng of usually
straitlaced women, grabbed his microphone, and sang “Rocky Mountain High” like the sensible adult he was.