He raised a brow. “Not sure they give badges for bringing alcohol on a road trip.”
Brynn laughed, the adrenaline mixed with the shot making her feel light and giddy and ready to take on a six-hundred-thirty-foot monument. Maybe. She hoped.
“Thank you,” she said, then kissed her friend on the cheek. She may have lingered for an extra second or two, taking in his scent. “David Beckham?” she asked, her Christmas gift to him in 2012.
He shook his head.
“Justin Bieber?”
He laughed. “Wrong again.”
“Which one is it?” She couldn’t place the celebrity scent, but whoever it was—Antonio Banderas, maybe—suited him. He smelled good…and somehow familiar. Even after four-plus hours on the road.
The alcohol must have been getting to her. One shot could do that, right?
“It’s just me,” he said. “Showered, shaved, and out the door. Sorry to disappoint.”
“Huh,” she said as they started walking. “Just you. Me, too,” she added. “Just me.”
Brynn watched the smile move along Jamie’s profile. And though she didn’t say it out loud, she allowed herself the thought.
No need to apologize. I’m not disappointed at all.
Chapter Nine
Fuck you, fear. How about, Fuck you, Jamie the hypocrite? Because toasting to their fears—or to staring them in the face, that would be the perfect time to throw in, By the way, I broke up with Liz because I’ve loved you since I was sixteen.
But he didn’t say that. He let Brynn think the moment was all about her, and maybe that was okay. She needed this, and she needed him to help her through it. To drop the bomb on her now would be to steal her thunder. There was no rush. Heck, he’d been holding it in for eleven years. He would find a way to ease into telling her how he felt. After all, hadn’t he learned his lesson from the reunion? Surprising Brynn when she was drunk was not the way to go. Not that she was actually drunk right now, but the speed with which she walked—and talked—made it clear that Brynn was under the influence of something. Blame it on the alcohol, the setting, the adrenaline most definitely coursing through her veins, but she was on a mission, and he was not about to derail said mission for his own selfish gain.
Besides, didn’t he want her to choose him of her own free will? Placing his cards on the table now would only put her on the spot, and that wasn’t how this was supposed to go down.
“You’re totally right,” she was saying as they trekked toward the entrance. “I slept through my fear. Like, literally. And you know how much I hate when people use the word literally…but, Jamie…” She shook her purse, a large bag slung cross-body down her torso.
He had to focus on what she was saying and not on how the strap bisected her, pressing firm in the spot between her breasts, accenting both as her sweater pulled against them. God, couldn’t she adjust her scarf or something?
“I’ve got some right here. Literally!” she continued, and he forcibly cleared his throat, then shook his head so he focused on the right here of the purse she was shaking and not the right here of the place where his eyes were naturally drawn. “If I popped one of these suckers, I’d be out in twenty minutes. Tops. In fact…” She stopped midstride, unzipped the bag, and rummaged through it until her hand emerged with a small cylinder of the motion-sickness pills. “I’m entrusting these to you, in case I want to bail on the whole experience before we’re halfway up. Even if I freak out, don’t let me have one of these unless you want to carry me to the truck afterward.”
Jamie laughed, but Brynn’s face was intent, brows raised in earnest. She was dead serious.
“Are you going to have a panic attack or something? Maybe we should rethink this. I mean, I’m all for conquering your fears, but this seems like a giant leap where you maybe should take baby steps.”
She grabbed his wrist and placed the tube of pills in his palm, curling his fingers tight around it. Her hand was warm, fever hot, even, and he knew what this was—Brynn on fire. Determined and headstrong, even if she was about to do something incredibly stupid. It brought him back ten years to when she was ready to attend that end-of-year party with a fever and glands so swollen she couldn’t swallow without tears spilling from her eyes. And then he’d kissed her and messed everything up, almost ruining their friendship when he needed her most. It was hard not to feel like he was to blame for some of the fire going out of her, and damn if he didn’t love seeing it now. Even if it meant he risked being trapped with her, and a couple of strangers, six hundred thirty feet above the ground with the possibility of a major freak-out.