Spending the day with Libby doing meetings and team stuff was a relief.
Emphasis onwas. Sure, we had to act like a couple, but we could be subtle about it since being embarrassingly in love would look unprofessional. I could tell that Tessie, the director of Libby’s show, wanted more kissing, but Libby didn’t give in when Tessie asked for more “affection.” I tried not to grin at the way Libby told her this was her place of work and she was a professional. Libby’s assertive side is attractive as all get-out.
Maybe that’s why the skating lesson got intense. I couldn’t resist her anymore. Thoughts about how I would like to be making out with her in some back closet at the practice facility hung around all day. I liked, too much, having her fingers laced with mine. It’s one of the most comforting things I’ve ever felt. It makes it seem like Libby is actuallymine.
That’s why I went down to the ice to skate, to burn off some energy because I can’t keep on like this, hiding my feelings for her and finding release in any little way I can touch her as we fool people.
So I went and held her against me while we skated.
And that worked out well.
Ifworked out wellmeans that by the time we headed back to Ellie’s house my insides were a mess from everything I’m holding back.
It feels like I’m lying to her. Or worse, like I’m using her. I need to tell Libby the truth about my feelings, ask her on a real date—as absurd as that sounds, considering we’re already married.
But we won’t have alone time until we go to bed tonight. Given how long I’ve been holding this in, a few more hours shouldn’t be that difficult—even if the time we spent skating makes it feel urgent.
I want to drag her off for a walk around the neighborhood after dinner—truly delicious tacos—but Kat and Emmeline insist that Libby playMario Kartwith them after dinner. She was their fun aunt when they lived in Houston and spent tons of time with her. They couldn’t care less that she’s married to me. She belongs to them.
So I don’t get to have her to myself until we go to bed.
I’m grateful that the guest suite is large, with a comfortable couch in one corner. When Libby and I retreat there after her nieces go to bed—ournieces, that’s hard to remember—I stretch myself out on the couch while Libby goes into the bathroom to start her nightly routine. She leaves the door open as she washes her face and brushes her teeth, meaning that I can watch her.
And she can catch me staring as she rubs cream on her face. She turns to me. “What?” she asks.
I want to tell her how beautiful she is or how I could watch her do anything because I’m falling for her. Seeing her in action today, being the boss, her professionalism and leadership with her new staff, her natural poise on camera, like they weren’t even there—it was electrifying. I am completely smitten by her.
But my admiration of her is outside of the rules we’ve set, and I don’t need to put her on her guard before I have a serioustalk with her about my feelings. “Intrigued by the process,” I excuse.
“You’re intrigued by moisturizing cream?” She glares at me playfully.
Mostly just by you, I think. A couple other flirty comments threaten to come out too, likeis that what makes your cheeks so soft?I can’t help thinking about cupping them in my hands again like I did right after the meeting today, when we were in her office chatting, and the general manager and COO walked by and peeked in. She suggested I kiss her lightly, which I immediately obliged, but I barely even touched her lips, even though I wanted to press mine to hers and deepen the kiss.
“Of course,” I finally say.
She tilts her head, confusion in her expression. “You okay?” she asks.
“It’s been a long couple days,” I excuse. It’s the truth. Traveling, all the meetings today and time at the facility, then time with Ellie and her family—it’s a lot. And we’ve had to be on for every second of today. In front of the cameras, it was especially stressful for me. I felt like a newbie all day, which was weird when I was inside a hockey arena.
Acting like I love Libby is easy, but figuring out how to do that while still making sure she’s okay has my brain on overdrive all the time.
“It has.” She turns back to the mirror, picking up another tube from her makeup bag and dabbing a few drops on her cheeks. “Facial oil,” she explains to me.
I laugh. “Good to know.” I pull out my phone to distract me from staring at her while she finishes up, but it’s hard to keep my focus on sending a text to Baylee when Libby starts brushing her long, dark hair.
I will not imagine brushing her hair myself and getting to run my fingers through it.
Jordan
I’m going to tell Libby tonight that I have feelings for her.
Baylee
Is that a good idea? What if she doesn’t feel the same?
Jordan
Thanks for the vote of confidence.
