Our gazes meet.
The air is electric, and it’s not from the storm. Sebastian stares and stares andstares, unblinking, until he shakes his head. Until heflicks off the clump of mud stuck on the curve of his jaw and tosses me a smile.
“I have a first aid kit in my bag,” I finally whisper.
“Of course you do,” he says back.
“In case you need medical attention.”
“The only thing I need is to see you in those ski goggles. I think I’ve earned it, don’t you?”
“Yeah.” I lick my lips. “I guess you have.”
“Good.” He steps closer. “Are you ready for round two?”
No, a voice inside my head whispers.
I don’t think I’m ready for anything.
THE RAINY DAY SHOW BROADCAST
Sebastian:
Look at all the people tuning in to the show. Forty thousand? You’re famous.
Quincy:
I’m not famous.
Sebastian:
Guess they must be here for me. The audience loves me. Hello, America.
Quincy:
