Chapter 31 Brynn #3
I had no idea how much I’d missed it.” I looked up—proudly and sadly—and studied him as the next words came out of his mouth.
“But I’m not going anywhere. Keep on being one of the good guys, and you’ll be the first one I call if that changes.”
“I can’t ask for more than that. Thanks. And again, good work. Brynn, are you still on the line?”
“I’m here, Colton.”
“I don’t suppose you have a monitor for the feed, do you?”
Sebastian rolled his eyes for my benefit, and I perfectly understood what was going through his mind. Thoughts about how nice
it would have been to have a monitor as he chatted with broadcasters and authorities from all over the world all night.
“Nope. No monitor. Just an in-ear audio feed.”
“That works about half the time,” Sebastian muttered.
“Okay. Well, we’ll make do. We’ll have Mark and Elena on the feed, and we’ll be broadcasting whatever Orly can get to us.”
“Got it.”
“Then call me after.”
I took a deep breath. “Colton, I need a nap. I’ll call you Monday.”
He spoke hesitantly. “Monday you’ll be here. Back on the couch.”
Here it was. The moment of truth. Another moment of truth among more moments of truth than I could keep track of. A career that I’d be a fool to walk away from. A
man who would never forgive me if I walked away for him, but whom I couldn’t imagine walking on without. And an entire town of people who, I finally understood, would love me
no matter what I chose to do.
“I need a little more time, Colton. A little more time to figure some things out. I’ll call you Monday.”
Sebastian’s eyes were hidden from me as he looked down and began studying the snow under his boots, but I saw the grin that
spread across his lips, and that was all I needed.
Colton sighed. “You’re going to be the death of me, Cornell. Just go get on the air.”
As soon as Colton was off the line, Sebastian kicked back into on-the-ground action-news reporter mode. “Here.” He reached
under his coat and disconnected the receiver that was still looped onto him. “Orly, do you have the—” Orly handed him a handful
of cords and the mic and receiver I had removed from Sebastian’s belt and lapel just a few minutes earlier. “Thanks.” He took
a moment to straighten and unloop and connect, and then he was two inches in front of me, asking, “May I?”
I had no idea what he was asking permission to do, but the answer was an easy yes.
Sebastian crouched down, and his left hand was suddenly at my midthigh level, skating up my leg under my coat.
When his fingers got to my hip, he stood back up, my coat rising with him.
The assault of the freezing wind against my legs had little effect as his left wrist rested gently on my waist. He reached his right hand down the back collar of my coat, pressing me against him in the process, and never once pulled his eyes—still only two inches away—from mine as he gently lowered the receiver by its cord, from his right hand to his waiting left, like a bucket in a well.
My breath caught as he pulled the waistband of my jeans away from my skin, just enough to slip on the receiver.
He then removed his left hand from under my coat, leaving my leg colder with the coverage from the down than it had been while he was touching me, and his left hand joined his right behind my neck to clip the cord onto my collar.
Finally, while his left hand slipped the earpiece into my right ear, his right hand cupped my face and he brushed his lips against mine.
“Done,” he whispered.
“So that’s how the pros do it,” I muttered against his lips and tried to remember how to breathe.
“Old trick I picked up from David Muir when we were covering the earthquake in Haiti.” He winked and kissed me one more time,
then pulled away and shouted over my head. “How much time does she have, Orly?”
“Fifty seconds,” he called back.
Sebastian lowered his eyes to meet mine. “You ready?”
I nodded. “I am.”
Suddenly his eyes flew open and his hands were a flurry of activity, unzipping his coat and reaching inside.
“I totally forgot. You asked me to bring you a hat to borrow.” He pulled the curled-up ball cap out of his inner pocket and handed it to me.
I stared at him in disbelief as he worked on straightening it out.
He held it up and showed me the purple Northwestern logo on the front.
“See? To match the hoodie.” I kept staring at him until he asked, “What?”
“Are you kidding me, Sudworth? Are you freaking kidding me?”
“Thirty seconds, Brynn,” Orly called out.
“We have literally been sitting at the base of an avalanche all night, freezing half to death, and I’m a few seconds away
from going live on national television with a frizzy mess that I’m sure Christiane Amanpour and Ronan Farrow are going to
be making fun of at CNN poker night—”
“Andy Vandy’s going to have a field day.”
My eyes flew open. “You call him that too?” My eyes narrowed as his grin widened. “You’re making fun of me.”
“Do you want the hat or not?”
I stared at him until Orly yelled, a bit more urgently, “Brynn! Ten seconds.”
“Fine.” I yanked it out of his hands, slipped it on, and pulled my ponytail out the back as I ran over and took my spot. “And
to think... I was going to say nice things about you.”
He laughed and then called out, “Hey, Brynn?” from just behind Orly. I looked up at him as Orly began counting down. “I really
do like you. A lot.”
“We’re live in five, four...” Orly’s fingers took over the count.
A camera-ready smile took over my face as I reunited with the Sunup fam, and for the first time, I wasn’t faking a thing.