Page 88 of Crash Course Omega
“Why did you come here if it wasn't for me?” he asks, and I have to hold back my smile at how his hands tremble. Even though it’s just the two of us, I love that he’s nervous.
I can feel him putting in effort to be natural, and the way he tries makes it mean so much more.
“None of this was ever about you,” I say, my voice strained. “I need this race. I need to win this. I have to prove that I deserve to be behind the wheel.”
Everest watches me intensely, waiting for me to muster up enough emotion for my next line.
Even speaking the words out with him fills my heart with love as I let myself sink into the character and the depth of them. It’s like I stand in front of a two-way mirror. On one side is my character, and on the other is me, and all I have to do is step through the glass and become her.
I absorb her emotions, sink into her feelings and balance myself between the pane of glass, so that there’s no separation between us, but I’m still whole.
“And you never asked me to stay,” I say, pushing that extra drop of pain into my voice. “So why would I come back?”
I never told anyone that these scenes were easy for me because I missed Maddock so deeply. I could play the heartbrokenfemale lead because the memories of leaving him were etched into my body.
I can’t say not a day goes by without me thinking of him, but the pain is still raw enough that I choke out before I say my next line.
“But you must be here for a reason. You can’t step into a car and race like that and tell me you weren’t thinking of me,” Everest says.
“I don’t race for you. I’m here to win, and if you get in my way, I won’t hold back. Just like you never did all those years ago.” I press my lips hard together like I’m stemming my tears, a shake going through my body.
“That’s not true. I wanted you to be happy. And I thought I could give you that,” he says, his head snapping up to look at me.
“But, you never trusted me…” I whisper, a single tear falling down my cheek. It took me a year to perfect that skill. “You never asked me what I wanted to do. You took control of this,” I beat my hand against my heart, “and took it away from me…” I cut myself off, looking away from him as I choke out a sob.
I tremble, my breaths speeding up, hunching over my shoulders like I’m already crying. The actor playing the male lead is good at large, dramatic scenes, but I’m interested to see if he can carry something more subtle.
I wait for my next line, preparing myself to shout back at Everest, and to let my voice crack, but nothing’s coming.
Peeking out of the corner of my eye, my heart freefalls at the look on Everest’s face.
He looks devastated, the thick script crumpling in his large, shaking hands. Stuck on the edge of his seat, I think he’s going to cry himself.
“Everest?” I say, twisting on my stool to face him properly. “What’s wrong?”
He suddenly shoots off his seat, flying towards me, throwing his arms around my neck, and pulling me tight. His heart is thundering so loudly it’s like it echoes through my head, and he’s almost rasping.
It’s the same panic he showed when he spilled coffee on me, like he’s terrified I’ve been hurt.
“Everest, what’s going on?” I ask, gently stroking down his arms to ease him away so I can look up at him.
He looks so awkward and stressed that I want to laugh. But that would be cruel when he is panicking.
“Everest, I’m okay. It’s just acting. See?” I wipe away my tears, giving him a smile. “It’s just part of my role.”
But his chest is still heaving, and I’m so touched that he’s worried that I wrap my arms around his lower back, pulling him in close.
“Thank you,” I hum, a gentle smile on my face as I rub my cheek against his chest. “You really are so sweet.”
I tip my head back to look at him, and my breath catches as I realize how close he is.
He must feel it too, because his hands clench into fists against my back.
“Everest,” I murmur as his pheromones wash over me, and his pine and fresh rainwater scent instantly soothe me.
I sigh, my scent joining his as he bends down closer.
“Are you going to do it?” I ask, my voice thick and sultry.
