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It’s not.
Not even a little.
And that—
That is the real problem.
Jase
She doesn’t like me.
Right.
That’s what we’re going with.
I step past her, checking the door, the windows—what’s left of them.
Clear.
For now.
“We move in five,” I say.
She crosses her arms.
“You’re not leading.”
“We’ve been over this.”
“I mean it.”
“So do I.”
Silence.
Charged.
Familiar now.
Too familiar.
She exhales.
Sharp.
Annoyed.
Frustrated.
“…Jesus, help me…”
“What did I do?” I ask.
She looks at me like I just proved her point.
“Exactly,” she says.
I almost laugh.
