Page 70 of Limbo

Rather than grab the handle to make a grand escape, he moves a hand around to the back of my neck, bringing me closer. He leans in and rests his forehead on mine. “I’m not going anywhere, Callie.” He locks his intense gaze on mine. “I don’t care how messy your life is. Messy, complicated, unpredictable—I want it all if it means I can have you.”

I want to warn him I’m not worth the trade, but he seals his mouth over mine.

“I can handle it,” he says against my lips. “I’mcertain.”

I search his eyes for any hint of doubt but find nothing other than assurance. This is what Jordan Waters looks like when certain. He kisses me again and again, and I believe him more each time.

By the time he pulls away, not much exists outside the car. I reach for the gearshift but stop, remembering something else. “One more thing…” As much as I wish we could skip it, I promised the guys I would tell him about Tyler. “Johnny almost got into a fight with Lauren’s boyfriend last night.”

He relaxes in his seat, a whole new level of confusion on his face. “At a college party?”

“Tyler’s only twenty-two,” I explain. “I try not to talk to him, so I didn’t even know he went to State until I ran into him.”

“So, why exactly was Johnny going to fight him?”

I chew on my lip, not sure how he’ll respond. “He got a little aggressive with me in a hallway.”

He goes tense, expressionless. “He what?”

The edge in his response catches me off guard, and my eyes flash to his. I switch into damage mode. “Everything was fine. He was just drunker and more persistent than usual.”

“Than usual?” His voice rises right along with my pulse. “This has happened before?”

“Nothing serious,” I say fast. “Until last night, he’s always backed off after a few comments or grabbing my ass. For whatever reason, he pushed it further, but Johnny rode in on his white horse and pulled him off.”

“Jesus, Callie.” His head drops back on the seat, and his jaw clenches.

I shouldn’t have said anything. I pushed him with my screwed-up family and now upset him with Tyler. Once again worried I broke him, I try to reassure him and put my hand on his arm.

The wrong choice.

In the time it takes to blink, he throws off his seat belt and launches out of the car. I unhook, too, thinking I need to chase him down, but he comes around the car and flings open my door, then he pulls me out, his arms enveloping me. I press my face into his chest, close and safe and exactly where I want to be. With the only person I’ve ever wanted to let exist in both of my worlds.

Jordan Waters in Waymore, Pennsylvania, gives a whole new meaning to a fish out of water. His eyes dart all over the place as I drive through the small town. After I park in front of Lauren’s house, he checks around like he expects a killer clown to pop out.

“Do you feel like I’ve brought you to the middle of nowhere to kill you?” I ask.

Still on high alert, he says, “The idea has crossed my mind.”

“Just stay out of the woodshed out back.” I wink and leave him in the car to contemplate his impending doom.

He recovers by the time I’ve collected our bags from the trunk, and he carries them in. Since we step through the door without being attacked by a six-year-old, I safely assume we have the house to ourselves.

The bags hit the floor the second he walks into my room, and he sets his sights on the photo collage decorating my wall. Of all the pictures taken over the years, the ones hanging in my room represent the better moments—early morning fishing trips Trey used to force me to go on, summer carnivals, water parks, even my prom pictures with Pete. According to the wall, I’ve lived the life I always wanted.

He scans over them and points at one. “Age?”

I glance at the picture of me at the lake and take his coat. “Seven? That’s Trey on the left, and Connor is on the right.” I kick our bags out of the way and close the door.

“The science building on campus?” He looks at one of Trey and me cheesing it up for the camera a mere twenty feet from where he charged into my life.

“Last October, Trey drove me to Easton for a tour.” I finish hanging our jackets on the hooks behind the door and return to his side. “We snuck off on our own and ran into a group of girls. He made up a ridiculous story about being an oil heir named Bradford. They pointed out his name tag said Trey, so he hunted down a marker. After he changed his name, he asked who I wanted to be while we were there.”

I pull the pin from the top of the picture and show him the back. TheHello, My Name Issticker is still firmly attached withCallistacrossed out and Trey’s scrawled-outCalliein red marker.

“You were Callie,” Jordan says.

“I have been ever since.”

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