Chapter 26 Sebastian #2
door that I walked through. I mean, I guess there’s some truth to it.” She thought for a moment and then doubled down. “There
definitely is. But that’s not why I got into television. You want to know why I got into television?”
He nodded. Not that she was paying any attention to him right then. She was in an escape room of her own creation, all by
herself, determined to track down the rest of the clues if it killed her.
“I got into television because some guy I was serving coffee to at a coffeehouse thought I was attractive, so he asked me
if I wanted to be an intern at Good Day LA , and I thought, ‘Hey, that sounds better than spending those few extra hours in my crappy apartment every morning with my psycho roommate and her weird lampshade collection.’” A sort of unhinged cackle escaped from her and got carried away by a gust of freezing air.
“Sebastian, no matter how fake I am, and no matter how screwed up everything about me may be, there is one thing I want you to know for sure.
One thing that will never change. I have never gone to a George Clooney movie for any reason other than to forget about the world and stare into his deep, dark, soulful
eyes. I never have, and I never will. I promise you that.”
She bit her bottom lip again, and his body temperature continued rising as he watched her manipulate it between her teeth.
Brynn Cornell was a mess, and he was crazy about her.
She shrugged and laughed again. “Who knew that all it would take for me to completely question every choice I’ve ever made
in my life was a trip home? Do you know how much money I wasted on therapy?”
Probably about as much as he had. And though he didn’t view his as a waste, he understood what she meant. Brynn had run from
Adelaide Springs for the same reason Sebastian had run to it—to avoid getting hurt. Ultimately, for both of them, healing
didn’t seem to be found in any particular thing they were seeking but in the willingness to stop running.
She’d stopped crying, but the reminder was still all over her face in the form of black smudges under her eyes and streaks
down her cheeks. Her cheeks were red and glowing—wind, sun, and he was guessing exhilaration-tinged adrenaline all working
together to breathe more life into her system than she’d likely experienced in years. With a self-satisfied grin he acknowledged
to himself that he may have even played a small role in the emotional rebirth of Brynn Cornell.
“Brynn?” He said her name over his shoulder as he bent down to pick up the equipment and began brushing off his jacket and slipping back into it.
He’d interrupted her cathartic soliloquy, but then again, it had been a day full of interruptions.
There were a lot of things he hoped they would get back to later.
“Hmm?” She ceased her pacing across the rocks and patches of ice and turned to face him. “Oh, I’m sorry. I got kind of caught
up in—”
“No, it’s fine.” He zipped up his jacket and relaxed into its warmth. “It’s great, actually. I’m just wondering if you still
want to film? You know... since you hate your job and everything.”
Sebastian stood there holding Orly’s equipment, silently imploring her to say no. But it had to be her choice. If she’d had
half the breakthrough it appeared she’d had—or that she was in the midst of, anyway—this was going to be a tough decision.
It was one thing to realize you weren’t fulfilled by the choices you had made in your life. It was another thing entirely
to make one more decision and do something about it. He knew that as well as anyone. As much as he wanted her to leap, he
knew that if he were in her shoes, he would probably still hedge his bets until he figured out what came next.
“That depends on you,” she finally said after seeming to give it a lot of thought.
“Me? Why does it depend on me?”
Joyous mischief spread across her face as she took slow steps toward him. “Earlier, before you told me to stop talking, I
was about to tell you that just on the other side of that ridge right there”—she pointed behind her—“is an old shed with leftover
equipment from the ski lift. Years ago, Laila, Addie, Cole, Wes, and I came up here and buried a bunch of sleds underneath
it.”
“And you think they’re still there?”
She looked around. “It doesn’t look like anything has changed, so I’m guessing so.
We buried them pretty deep.” She reached him and helped herself to the pockets of his jacket.
His left hand joined her right, and their fingers looped together inside the pocket.
“But I’m finding something to ride down this mountain on, regardless. ”
“Well, Ms. Cornell, as fun as that sounds, I’m not sure it’s safe. Warmer weather... melting snow... avalanches...
all of that.”
“Oh, good grief, newbie.” She rolled her eyes. “See those gray clouds, way off in the distance? When they get here, we won’t
go sledding. But for now...” She raised her left hand and ticked her safety tips off on her fingers, one at a time, starting
with her thumb. “Avoid thirty- to forty-five-degree slopes. Stay windward. Watch for missing trees below the tree line. Guard
against terrain traps. Stick to broad ridgelines...” She waved her fingers in the air. “Need me to go on? These are my
mountains. Stick with me, baby. I’ll take care of you.”
Sebastian laughed. “Says the woman who got stuck in a tree.”
“Hey! You said you weren’t going to make fun.”
“Not making fun. Just pointing out the obvious.” He tilted his head and leaned toward her and spoke against her lips. “And
anyway, what, exactly, does any of that have to do with me and filming?”
She pulled him closer by the pockets and her lips fluttered against his ear. Sebastian, meanwhile, showed the greatest restraint
of his life and didn’t throw the film equipment into the air, allowing it to land where it would, devil may care.
“I just think you’d probably only be able to get good shots if you stood to the side or took your own sled.” Her lips left
a trail across his jawbone before landing back on his, and she took as much liberty with his mouth as she had with his pockets.
“I thought it would be more fun to share.”
Alright. Enough messing around.
Sebastian hooked his arm around her neck and kissed her thoroughly for as long as he could, until he felt her weight redistribute as her knees seemed to lose the ability to support her.
Then he broke the kiss but not the embrace—for fear they would both collapse to the ground if they didn’t have each other to hold on to for support.
“Yowza,” she moaned against his lips with halting breaths.
Through jagged breaths of his own, he whispered, “You’re such a dork.”
Then it was another five minutes or so before he finally had the strength to leave her and return the equipment to the Bronco.
She was right. It would be a lot more fun to share.