The Princess and the Fangirl (Once Upon a Con #2)(61)

“I am so sorry! That took way longer than I thought,” she says. Then she asks if I’m ready to finish my meet-and-greet.

There are only ten fans left, so I smile and pose and ask their names, just like before. But this time, their names stick with me—though not for the reasons they should. Because they don’t try to feel me up, because they are nice, because they are decent human beings.

And I hate that some of the dickwads in their midst are not.

After the last photo, I rub my arms, feeling dirty and miserable. Is this what Jessica has to put up with all the time? Harassment like that? Is that all she’s ever seen of the Starfield fandom in the month the movie’s been out? Nothing but provocation and disapproval and people shouting how she can never live up to Natalia Ford?

I leave the booth as quickly as I can. I don’t know where I’m going, but somewhere away from people.

Somewhere I can stop and peel off my skin.

“Hey,” Ethan calls after me.

I push through a GUESTS ONLY door that leads into a hallway. It’s vacant, but not far enough away. A few moments later, the door opens again. Ethan’s gaining on me with those ridiculously long legs. I take another corner.

My mind is frazzled.

I’m shaking.

I thought Jasper wasn’t that kind of guy.

I’m so mad at myself. Why did I clam up? I saw what was happening. Why didn’t I yell at him to take his hands off me? I shouldn’t have let him hug me in the first place. Was it my fault? Did I— “Imogen.”

Ethan grabs me gently by the forearm to stop me.

“I’m fine,” I say, and his impassive face twitches in agitation. He knows I’m lying. I grit my teeth. He hasn’t cared about me so far in this charade. Why should he start now? “I don’t need you to protect me—I mean, Jessica.”

His eyebrows furrow, and he drops his hand from my arm. “Of course.”

How often does that happen to Jess? I want to ask, but I’m also a little scared to know. I curl my fingers around the sides of my blue dress so Ethan can’t see them shaking. “I had it under control. I didn’t need you to come to my rescue. I was fine.”

“Imogen…”

“I’m Jessica right now,” I snap, “and I said I was fine.”

“You were not fine.”

I am vibrating with anger. “WHY DO YOU CARE NOW?” I scream. “I’m just some stupid peasant pretending to be a princess. A nobody who isn’t worth your time.”

I hurt him just then, I know I did, but hurting him feels like scratching a sunburn when it itches. It feels awful, but it’s a relief, too.

“Excuse me,” I mumble, and I don’t even wait for him to argue. I escape down the hallway and through another set of doors, and he doesn’t follow. I’m not sure where I’m going—I’m heading in the direction of the Green Room, but I don’t want to go there. I want to rake my fingers across my skin and peel myself back, or drown in a marathon of Starfield and forget about Jasper, or— “Jessica?”

I blink and realize I’m outside the Green Room, my hand on the doorknob. I let go and turn toward the voice.

Vance Reigns smiles around a toothpick, and it’s disarming and sincere and he doesn’t know what I’ve just been through. He’s oblivious to it. In his perception of the world, it never happened.

“Is something the matter?” Vance asks gently.

I fix on a plastic smile, and I hope he doesn’t see it slipping. “I’m fine. What’re you doing here?”

He shrugs and hoists a black backpack higher on his shoulder. “I was going to watch your panel earlier but…”

“It didn’t quite go as planned.”

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Of course—why wouldn’t I be?”

He pulls his hand through his gorgeous blond hair. “I tried to call your hotel room last night after I got in from a dinner I had to go to, but you never called me back. It was late, though. I’m sorry.”

Late. He must have called while I was in the pool, or at the diner with Milo and Bran. But he’d called. I hadn’t even thought to check the answering machine when I went to grab my bag, but then again I doubt Ethan would’ve approved. He’d said as much about Vance Reigns.

Which is funny, because Vance has been nicer to me than Ethan will ever be.

“It’s okay,” I reply softly. I begin to walk around him, but he grabs my arm to stop me.

“Whoa whoa whoa, Stone. Where’re you heading?”

“Hotel, probably.”

“How about not?” He smiles again, and the last few moments with Ethan wash away. Vance loops my arm into his like a new Doctor claiming his companion. “Wanna go grab a bite with me, Jessica Stone? I feel like you might need a break.”

I hesitate because that does sound nice. A bite to eat away from the convention. A quiet place to think and regroup.

With Vance Reigns.

I might be a ball of confliction, but I am not dead.

“Please,” I reply, trying not to sound too desperate.





AS I MAKE MY WAY BACK TO Harper’s booth, I can’t help but take stock of the damage that’s been done. The comments on my social are only getting worse.