Except I was ready for him to do that. I tighten my grip around him. “Shh. It’s all right, pet. It’s just me. You’re safe.”
I close my eyes and deeply inhale. He still, to this day, smells the same as he did that first weekend, and my soul quiets somewhat. It chases away my anger and resentment and allows me a moment to think about all the good.
To count my blessings.
I haven’t done enough of that lately.
It takes him a few breaths to finally relax. “I didn’t know you were coming over, Sir. I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right.” I open my eyes and kiss his forehead. “I wanted to see you before we leave. I’m sorry I haven’t had much time for you lately.”
Close enough to the truth.
I haven’tmadetime for him.
Because I know if I did make time for him, he’d see how miserable I am.
He tips his head back so he can look me in the eyes. “How’s Jordan?”
Motherfucker.
I struggle not to react. I weigh his tone and words and his expression before I respond. He’s not being snarky. It was spoken simply and quietly.
I settle on, “I haven’t talked to Jordan in several months.”
That’s completely truthful, although not exactly one-hundred-percent accurate.
I don’t understand the look in his eyes, at first.
There’s a bitter, biting edge to his tone when he finally speaks. “You expect me to believe you’ve flown to Tallahasseehowmany times now in the past couple of months, and you’re telling me you haven’t eventalkedto Jordan?”
Shit.
Not like he doesn’t have a whole alphabet soup of intelligence agencies at his fingertips.
I default to the truth, since he already knows that much. “Jordan never knew I was there. I chickened out each time. Did I see him? Yes, buthenever sawme. I followed him and couldn’t make myself actually let him know I was there. Couldn’t approach him because I didn’t know what to say. I haven’t had actual contact with him in a while and didn’t know how to break the silence. I was worried he’d tell me to fuck right the fuck off.”
I struggle to lighten the mood. “Guess there’s still a little bit of stalker in me. I even put a tracking app on his phone when we were together and never took it off. Getting territorial again, are we, pet? Don’t worry. I’m all yours.”
But he doesn’t smile, where before hearing that tone from me would have made those handsome lips curve at least a little.
“Leo,whydid Jordanreallyleave?Whywon’t you talk to me about it?”
NotMaster. NotSir.
Fear twists my guts and sends a chilly wave straight to my balls. “He wanted to finish his master’s degree. He’s put it off long enough.”
Again, not a lie.
Just not the full truth.
“Leo.” He sits up. “Ineedto know. Don’t sugar-coat it. Did Jordanchooseto leave, or didyousend him away?”
I don’t want to do this tonight. “What difference does it make,pet?”
I think it’s worse that his tone stays low and calm, full of quiet resignation. “It makes a huge difference to me.”
Correction—Ican’tdo this tonight. I don’t have the mental energy to do this right now. I untangle myself from him and start to get up but his hand clamps around my wrist and he holds me there. Sometimes, I forget how strong he really is.
