Literally sitting on the plane, waiting for it to take off.
Still in Houston.
Mom
I want to come see Ellie too.
Libby
Sure…
Mom
I miss my grandchildren.
Libby
You’re checking up on me
Mom
Is therea reason you don’t want me to?
I can picture the exact innocent look on her face as though she’s saying it to me. She told me after Jordan came over for family dinner that she’d run a background check on Jordan. I’d snorted with laughter. I wasn’t worried.
Caleb probably gave her the report he’d already run for me. Ever since Caleb helped the Bennet family with my situation with Grayson, he’s been the go-to for us for sneaky IT stuff. We trust him implicitly.
I sigh and reply with an eye-roll emoji, then pocket my phone. She means well. She’s worried about her daughter. She’s the only one I’ll give a pass to for still seeing that seventeen-year-old girl who ran into her arms when Ellie brought me home after Grayson kidnapped me. And I guess my dad too.
“What’s up?” Jordan asks, leaning toward me across the armrest of our plane seats and letting our headsalmosttouch. He’s been like that since we had dinner with my family—showing physical affection in public like we’ve discussed but touching me a lot less. Except for basic hand-holding, all of his touches are brushes. Not-quite-contact made to appear intimate, but keeping himself back.
My parents likely scared him. And he admitted that it felt heavy lying to so many people, especially to Cordelia and Janelle because they accepted him so easily. I thought I was going to melt when he told me that. Jordan Atkinson seems so perfect.
I can’t decide whether to be relieved or frustrated with this PDA change. It’s nice not to have to push back the wanting when Jordan kisses me or rests a warm hand on my back. My natural inclination is to lean into him, to deepen the kisses, to hold him to me, and walking the line between stopping myself from falling for him and keeping up our charade is hard.
But someone’s going to notice how little we touch. My mom, for one, next time she sees us. She knows me well and she’s spent the last decade watching me like a hawk, like she thinks I might disappear again. I don’t blame her at all, but it means she’s attuned to me on a level no one else is.
Until Jordan.
“Libby?” He pulls away to stare at me and furrow his eyebrows. “Is something wrong?”
I wave him off. “I’m sorry. I got lost in thoughts. It’s just my mom.”
He tenses, and I realize I notice because he’s put an arm around me. He also notices, because he pulls it back slowly—not like he’s been caught. Not good for the act—and then kisses the air around my cheek. You’d have to be looking very closely to notice he didn’t touch me with his lips.
My mom would notice. I need to tell him that around her he has to stop with thealmoststuff.
“She can’t believe we kept our relationship a secret for six months,” I say. “But apparently, she’s also not doubting me.” I shrug. “She’s already planning a visit to Denver, though.”
“She’s a smart one.” Jordan chuckles, but there’s a thread of uneasiness to it.
“Brilliant,” I agree. “She’ll probably figure us out. Hopefully she’ll keep her mouth shut.” Jordan’s eyebrows jump, and I laugh. “My mom is fiercely loyal to her children. We don’t need to worry.”
“But if she figures us out…”
I reach over and take his hand. “She’ll understand my reasons.”
“Then why didn’t we tell her the truth?” His expression is a little desperate, like he wants to call her up right now and confess.
