Mr. President(73)

Matt is supposed to shower and have a quick lunch before he accompanies Carlisle to meet Senator Lewis, who has a large amount of delegates and support in this state. I’m hoping to take a shower as well and maybe a nap; the previous long night is weighing a little on me. It amazes me that it didn’t seem to weigh on Matt one bit. He looks better than ever, though the truth is that he is always active, buzzing with calm, steady energy.

Silence engulfs the elevator as we ride to our floor. Matt shoves his hands into his pants pockets and looks at me.

The fact that we were kissing heatedly recently in public, in New York City, is suddenly the only thing I can think of.

He asks me if I’d like to go up to the top terrace of the building for ten minutes.

I nod. It’s nearly sunset when we step outside. The large terrace has beautiful views of the city, especially the horizon, orange with the fading sun’s glow.

We stand there and take in the scenery for a moment.

We’re quiet for a while, the kind of quiet where you don’t really need to say anything, where just being in that place at that time is enough.

“We’re on the home stretch now.” He smirks, then glances meaningfully at the elevator behind us and shakes his head. “This little escape is enjoyable but not private enough to suit me. I mean to keep seeing you as much as I can. Alone, Charlotte.”

My cheeks warm at his words. I grab my hair as it flies with the wind.

“I’m pretty sure as we head to election our moments will become more and more fleeting,” I admit, laughing.

“I won’t allow that to happen.” He plunges his hands into his pockets. “I want to spend my every free moment with you—and I want you to spend yours with me.”

I feel shy all of a sudden. “You need your sleep,” I whisper, shooting him a chiding look.

Lightly smiling, he reaches out to brush the back of his thumb along mine. “I’ve got news for you, Miss Wells—my off-schedule hours are mine to do with as I please. And I intend to do you every one of them.”

Oh god, my sex just sort of gripped really tight.

He’s so sexy when he talks like this to me.

I’m flushed, uncertain about continuing to play this game, especially when it’s getting close to voting day, when the camera eye will keep zooming more and more on him as he continues making news and racking up voters.

“I’d like that. But I don’t know if it’s a good idea to keep taking risks . . . We’re ending this soon.” I chance a shy glance at him. “Aren’t we?”

He drops his hand, his jaw tightening. “I watched my mother take a backseat to the country. I can’t allow you to do that too,” he says.

“Maybe I don’t mind taking a backseat to the president . . .” I trail off, suddenly realizing what’s coming out of my mouth.

“That’s not happening. Ever.” His eyes flash, and I’m taken aback by the steely determination in his words and voice.

I quickly try to explain. “Look, the needs of one woman shouldn’t come before a whole country. I wouldn’t expect—”

“You don’t need to be anyone’s afterthought. Not even the country’s. I’m not doing that to you—don’t even ask me to. Not me, not anyone.” He looks at me, then rakes his hand through his hair. “God. You’ve still got so much ahead of you, you’ve got so much to offer, you don’t deserve eight years—four at least—” He trails off, his eyes dark, as if he hates remembering.

“It wouldn’t be hell to me if I spent it with you,” I whisper.

We’re interrupted when one of our team members appears on the terrace. We step back a little from each other when we hear the elevator ting and then Hessler comes over, instantly charging forward to talk business with Matt.

Matt’s smile fades, and he pops open a button on the sleeve of his shirt and folds his cuff as he listens. Getting down to the dirty job.

I spend more time listening than the five minutes we spent alone together just now, and then I quickly excuse myself.

I notice the steely frustration in his gaze as I leave, the way his jaw clenches as if he’s keeping himself from saying something.





30





NEWS





Charlotte



I hardly slept. I kept wanting to go to him, I kept sort of hurting, remembering how Matt got ticked off just thinking of me in the same situation his mother once endured. I kept thinking of him wanting to spend more time with me, and I kept checking my calendar, crossing another X on another day with him that I won’t ever recover.

I also got a call from my mother, and if I hadn’t already had enough on my mind, that phone call also had me tossing and turning all night.