15

15

I wake up the next morning to find Jason’s arm around my waist. Fuck. And there’s that complication thing. Oh, shut up with the gloating.

I manage to slide out from under his arm without waking him and slip into the bathroom for a shower. I try to clear my mind and not think about the ramifications of everything but, of course, the brain doesn’t quite work that way. The more I tell myself not to think about it, the more I think about it.

First and foremost, I hope Jason knows this does not mean we are getting back together. That is the very last thing I want or need right now. Not just because we are running for our very lives and romantic entanglement is likely only to distract us, possibly fatally, but just in general. Jason and I tried the relationship thing before, and it imploded miserably—regardless of whether you believe his version of events or mine. And let’s be honest, if I couldn’t make that relationship work, I doubt I’d ever be able to make any&n