Page 58 of The Perfect Rom-Com

Stay within the camouflage of these woods, behind these bushes, before giving up and presenting myself to hear whatever information he’ll give.

Because Jack does have a secret.

A few, it seems.

And I don’t know anything yet about them.

I just know they are about me.

* * *

I dream I am back at The Bridge.

People are on the other side of the doors. A mob of angry people rolling impossibly large metal cans, crowding the doors, standing on one another to get in. Yelling. Screaming. Lighting things on fire.

Jack’s blocking the doors. He’s wearing a gray suit, and yet it’s ripped in multiple places, exposing skin at the wrists, legs. And for all his useless efforts, I stand in the crowd and feel something there, looking at him, that I’ve never quite felt before.

Never allowed myself to feel before.

Never in all my waking hours.

A swell of pride in him, in who he is.

My heart leaping out of my chest at this man who puts up a good front with all his luxury watches and colorful macarons but in reality is standing in the gap, holding on to the building.

He’s fighting for this, for me, and it’s all useless. The crowds are swelling, the building begins to take hits, bricks begin to crumble and fall. And still he stands there.

There’s a flash of white as a towering column falls to the ground beside him, and with legs like cement I yank myself desperately forward. It’s hard, as dreams are, but eventually I reach him. Feel the quick relief of grabbing him by the arms. Pulling with all my might. “Come on, Jack! We’ve got to go!”

And I tug and I tug, but he won’t move. He’s rooted to the spot, urging people to turn back, to save the building.

I scream and scream and yank and yank, but he’s like a statue, my efforts useless to move him even an inch.

He won’t look at me. He doesn’t even hear me.

Does he even know I’m here?

“Come on, Jack! Leave it, please!”

Another column falls around us. An explosion hits the side of the building and a window crashes in.

And then I do something in a flash. The most illogical urge known to man.

I kiss him.

Press my arms tight around his shoulders, his tattered suit shirt, and kiss him with all my might.

And it’s . . . time-stopping. The hammering in my chest, my heart slamming with adrenaline as I hold him for dear life while columns crumble around us.

So earthshaking, so electrifying, that I jolt awake, my eyes bursting open to stare into the darkness above me.

My ears pulse even as I lie motionless, my heart still pounding.

And then I jolt, seeing Jack off his bunk bed and beside me, his hand giving my shoulder a shake. His face hovering beside me, so close I can see the bristles of his five o’clock shadow on his chin. Jack’s eyes glint with pure concern in the dim running lights.

I must’ve been making noises in my sleep. Clearly he’s been trying to shake me awake, maybe even causing the earthquake in my dream.

“You good?” his voice whispers huskily beside me.