Page 198 of Flipping His Script
My gaze zoomed in on Flynn. Healsolooked like the character he played in the movies – stone cold and utterly impervious. He was wearing dark jeans and a dark button-down shirt. They were the same clothes he'd been wearing earlier, when we'd encountered Mackenzie.
But it wasn't his clothing that made him look so dark and dangerous. It was the look on his face, filled with quiet menace.
I felt myself swallow. I'd seen that same exact look directed at me, plenty of times, especially at the beginning of our secret arrangement.
I knew the exact moment he spotted us, because his body stiffened and his gaze narrowed in our direction. But he wasn't looking atme. He was looking at Jack, who muttered, "Hey, I tried."
As I stood there in the middle of Flynn's front lawn, a dozen thoughts raced through my brain. I was supposed to be playing a part. So far, I hadn't done a stellar job.
In the eyes of the world, I was supposed to be his girlfriend. But would arealgirlfriend just stand around, staring?
No.She'd surely dosomething.
But what?
As I stood there gaping at the commotion, all of these scattered thoughts suddenly coalesced into one simple reality.
Whether I felt like performing or not, Ihadto play my part.
Or die trying.
