JORDAN'S POV
I'd had the feeling for weeks.
Not a specific feeling. Not that I could point or name it. More like the low grade awareness you got when something in a room was slightly off and you couldn't locate the source but you kept looking anyway.
It had started at the girls' day out. Isabella's face when Aria talked about Dominic. The smile that was the right shape but doing something complicated underneath it. I kept it at the back of my mind.
Then the text from Aria the night of the gala. He's everything, Jordan.
That “everything” bothered me.
Perfect is not a word that applied to people who were actually real. Real people were specific. They had things that were good, things that needed work, histories that were complicated and patterns that repeated. Nobody who was real was
