Brynn nodded again.
“But how do you know you’re afraid of heights if you’ve never been conscious in the air?”
Well, putting it that way, it did sound a little ridiculous, and she hated sounding ridiculous.
“See? This is why you never knew. You can’t logic your way out of a fear, Jamie. It’s not like it kept me from living my life. I found my way around it through simple, over-the-counter medication. Problem solved.”
He raised his brows.
“What about that?” He pointed to the Arch, and Brynn’s gaze followed his outstretched arm.
Her knees buckled, but she righted herself just as Jamie reached for her.
“Forget it,” he said. “We’re not going up.”
“Yes we are,” she countered, her voice emitting the hint of a tremble.
Jamie was holding her now. Somehow she hadn’t realized this.
“Told you I’d always catch you,” he whispered in her ear. “You don’t have to do this. We came. We saw. We can get back on the road.”
But Brynn pushed him away. She brushed out nonexistent wrinkles from her jeans and mustered up as much conviction as she could.
I don’t need saving. She could save herself from her fear.
“You’re right,” she said. “I never experienced those flights because I let the fear win. I let the possibility of Spencer slip away senior year because I was scared that missing the party meant I missed my chance.” She stepped away from the truck and passed Jamie. Then she turned to face him. “I need to stop using fear as an excuse.”
She’d played it safe for ten years. When she applied and got into her safety school, she went without question. When Annie opened the store and offered her a job, Brynn didn’t care that she could make more money working for a big firm. The bookstore was safe. Working with Annie was safe. And when she needed a plus-one for a wedding, she always brought Jamie rather than going it alone. Enough was enough already. She could take this step, stare down one of her fears all by herself. Or with Jamie by her side, but it would still be her doing. Not his.
“Don’t you get it?” she asked. “If I can do this, without the help of over-the-counter drugs, I might add, I’m that much closer to doing—other things.”
She let out a long, slow exhale. Maybe she had inadvertently kept this little phobia from him. But it wasn’t her fear of heights taking center stage. This was all a prelude to a kiss, one she’d convinced herself would make all the difference.
Jamie took a step toward her, his exasperation melting into something softer.
“You’re scared,” he said, realization in his voice, and Brynn knew he understood. “This trip scares you.”
She sighed, relief washing over her.
“God, yes.” She laughed now, grateful that she wouldn’t have to hold this in all week. “I’m driving across the country because of a kiss. One that didn’t even happen. Twice. That’s insane. But doing nothing would be worse. I don’t want to wonder what might have happened or to regret not finding out. Even if this trip doesn’t end how I want it to, I won’t have to wonder anymore.”
She twisted a curl around her finger, and Jamie smiled. He tugged at one of her spirals, too, making her laugh. Then he turned, walked back to the truck, and reached into his bag. When he returned he was holding something silver in his hand.
“What’s a beer man doing with a flask?” she asked.
“Best man gift from Ben’s wedding.”
Ah, yes. Now she remembered. Both of Jamie’s brothers were married now, leaving the baby of the family the last bachelor standing.
“Still doesn’t answer my question.”
He unscrewed the top. “Well, I figured we might need to toast something at some point. Didn’t realize it would be this early, but here goes.” Jamie held up the flask. “To saying fuck you to fear and going after what we want.” He took a swig and handed it to her.
Brynn smiled. Leave it to Jamie to know exactly what to say and exactly when to say it.
“Fuck you, fear!” She brought the flask to her lips, knowing what was inside. The Jack Daniels burned hot as it traveled down her throat, but she welcomed the sensation. “Wait,” she said, handing the flask back to him. “You drove with this? Isn’t that…?”
Jamie cut her off, producing a miniature bottle of the whiskey from his pocket. An empty miniature bottle.
“No open alcohol in the vehicle.” He smiled. “I work in a brewery. I know my alcohol laws. Missouri, by the way, not so strict. Not that it will matter because I’m assuming we just finished what little we had.”
Brynn shook the flask and confirmed his guess.
“You’re full of surprises today, Mr. Kingston.”
He took the flask from her, capped it, and tossed it back in the truck.
“Maybe I’m just prepared,” he said when he was by her side again.
“Such a boy scout.”