“Jamie—”
“Wes…” I’ve already told him Leading Ladies are assertive andindependent.We’re not like ingenues who need to be saved.My mind is made up.
“This whole night, he hasn’t tried to hurt me.”The one deviation was when Billie came after me in the bathroom.I’m sure of it.I’m also sure the “J” etched into the mirror was not meant for me.Not in the way I thought.She was staking her claim.
“He just wants me.He wants me to play the part, and he’s not going to stop until he gets what he wants.If you’re going to get to the roof, you need him to be distracted, and you know better than anyone else I can be a distraction.”
He lets out a humorless breath but shakes his head.His lips pull into a petulant line, so I hit him with the final point.Sometimes you need to make a person eat their own words to understand yours.
“You said you would do anything to make sure as many people got out as possible.I’m the ‘anything’ Wes.”
He knows I’m right.I can tell by the way his mouth sets firmer into that thin, grim line, and the way he won’t meet my eye as I wait for a rebuttal.He knows John is going to come looking for us again.He knows he can save these people before John decides they are obstacles in the way of winning my heart.Just like I know he’s going to do it even if he doesn’t like that it leaves me alone.He lets out a weighted sigh, glancing over at the others before he takes hold of my arm and turns us until my back is against the wall.When he’s firmly in my space, looking down at me with that loaded stare, I know I’ve won.
“This hero-complex shit really does get old,” he mutters.
“Is it a turnoff?”
“Yeah, it is.”He nods, gesturing between our bloodstained chests.“I’m rethinking this whole thing between us now.”
He’s lying, and that’s why I grin.“Noted.”
When his face turns serious, I say, “He won’t hurt me.Not if I play along.”
He lifts his stare above my head, eyes narrowing as they dart back and forth, and I watch him try to figure out the plan in his head—how he can be in two places at once, get the survivors out and stay with me—but every time he plays it out and it doesn’t end right, the furrow between his eyebrows gets deeper.
“I’ll come back for you,” he says finally, his dark stare dropping down to meet mine, and I have to tamp down my smile because it’s themostcliché thing to say at a time like this.
“As soon as we reach the exit, as soon as they’re up on the roof, I’ll come back.Set the detectors off to make sure an alert gets out, and then I’ll come back for you and—”
“Stop.”
I hold up a palm, direct my most serious expression at him, and when it looks like he thinks I’m going to deliver some deep, heartfelt parting words, I sigh.
“You’re coming on really strong.”
After an extended startled silence he laughs, followed by an exhausted, incredulous scoff, and I have to bite down on my own smile.
“What…the fuck, Jamie?”He shakes his head, but the way he looks at me, the way his eyes shine…
“We’ve only just met, and I’m not really looking for anything long term right now,” I say gravely, trying not to break character when his gaze doesn’t falter and he lifts his palm to my face.When John did it, I was apprehensive, then terrified.But when Wes traces the peak of my cheekbone with his thumb, slides his fingers into my hair, and cups the back of my head, it just feels right.I lean into his touch, step into his body, until we’re nose to nose, and he murmurs, “I’m gonna fall in love with you, aren’t I?”
God, I hope so.
I hope we make it out and go on that date and do things that don’t include makeshift weapons and debilitating fear.I hope whathappened tonight doesn’t change us so much that we’re no longer the people who sat down at my table a few hours ago, locked eyes, and had an inkling things were going to be different once we walked out of this building.Even if it had been a normal night with zero percent chance of murder, I still think this evening was going to be life changing for me, because I’m pretty sure Wes is my “Oh, it’syou” person.I’m pretty sure I’m his, too.And I need us to make it through tonight so I can find out if I’m right.
That’s why I rise onto my bare, bruised, bleeding tiptoes and press my lips against his until he kisses me back.I count to three before I pull away, and he’s right: it really does work.
It doesn’t take long to get the others on board with the plan.I’d like to think it’s due to my Leading Lady optimism, but it could also be the collective desperation to get the fuck out of this hellhole.Either way, I make sure I keep a composed, confident expression on my face as Jason and Michael shift the filing cabinet away from the door, allowing myself one more look at Wes’s grim expression before I open the door just wide enough to slip outside.
Only when I’m alone in the hallway and hear the filing cabinet being slid back in front of the door do I let myself have the briefest moment of doubt.A real sense of imposter syndrome hits me like a blood spatter because I never asked for this.I never asked to be the lead in John’s romance, or the villain in Billie’s.But now that I’m in it, now that I’ve been cast in this role, I have a real chance of controlling the ending to all of this.
I’m done worrying about whether I’m too much or not enough.
I’m done trying to figure out whether I can be a Final Girl or a Leading Lady.
But most important, I’m done playing hard to get.
Because if John wants me so badly…
