Something Reckless(67)

“Don’t look so shocked. I’ve known Travis a long time, and he has an eye for talent. You should apply for a position with my campaign. It would be an amazing experience for you.”

Sabrina rolls her eyes. “Mom, Liz is a small-town girl. I’m sure the last thing she wants to do is be stuck on the campaign trail with you. Am I right, Liz?”

My stomach knots as I wait for her to answer. I want her to prove Sabrina wrong, because her presumption is insulting. On the other hand, I don’t want Liz to leave. Maybe this started as a cover, an attempt to appease my father and help my image while keeping Della’s jealousy at bay, but it’s more than that now. It’s more than a campaign move and it’s more than sex. At least, it is for me.

“Home isn’t the place you never leave. It’s the place where you return. New Hope will be here after we get Governor Guy in the White House.”

And as much as I hate the idea of her leaving, I’m proud of her answer. “Christine, don’t corner her now. She’ll think about it and get back to you. Come dance with me,” I say to Liz.

She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip and nods. Taking her hand, I lead her to the dance floor and pull her into my arms. Where she belongs. She settles against me.

“You’re amazing, you know that?”

She shakes her head and avoids my gaze. “I’m not amazing. Your family is amazing. Look what they’re doing for me.”

“I already told you my father doesn’t tolerate anything but the best. He’s not doing you any favors, Liz. You’re talented. Now, do something for me.”

“What?”

“Take a deep breath. You’ve been holding your breath all night and I’d rather not lose you to oxygen depravation just yet.”

She laughs a little and her body softens incrementally. “No one ever took me seriously before. To be fair, that’s my fault. I’m not smart like my sisters, and I suck at taking tests, so I always told myself that my brain wasn’t important. People liked me just fine for other reasons, until your dad brought me into his campaign and pushed me to write his speeches, and rewrite his speeches. I would have thought having someone push me like that would be draining, but it’s just the opposite. I’m energized. I didn’t realize how exhausting it was to dismiss my own mind.”

I slide a hand into her hair, letting the soft tendrils curl around my fingers. “Why do you say you’re not smart?”

“Because I’m not. I wasn’t good at school. No one cares that you can write if you can’t take tests.” She stops and shrugs as if that explains everything, but I wait, knowing there’s more, and eventually she gives it to me. “My mom pulled strings to get me into Sinclair. She never admitted it, but I know it’s true. It’s probably for the best she did, because if I hadn’t been able to go to college with Hanna, I probably wouldn’t have gone at all. Everyone thought I was dumb. I guess those assumptions already come standard with the blond hair, but it’s more than that with me.”

“I never thought you were dumb.”

She sighs. “I had to cheat to pass the written portion of my driver’s test. Seriously, the only thing I can do is write.”

I pull back so I can look in her eyes. “I never thought you were dumb,” I repeat. “Lots of people don’t test well, and, frankly, that’s a pretty arbitrary measure of intelligence. I’ve always thought of you as smart and talented.”

Something flickers in her big blue eyes and she steps out of my arms. “Thank you. I really appreciate that.” She points toward the table. “Excuse me. I’m going to go get a drink.”

Just like that, she slips from my arms, and I find Sabrina sliding into them.

“Hello, handsome,” Sabrina says.

I want to go after Liz, but my father is behind Sabrina’s back giving me an approving nod. Ridiculous. “Hi, Sabrina.”

“Your date seems nice.” She says the word as if it’s an insult.

“Sorry to see you didn’t find anyone to bring,” I tell her. “My brother would have been happy to escort you.”

She cocks a brow. “Ian? Is that supposed to be a joke? You think I have a thing for teenage boys?”

I sigh. It was supposed to be a jab at her determination to marry into this family, but I don’t explain it because I’ve been raised to be polite to the members of the Guy family no matter what.

“I have a room upstairs,” she murmurs. “And some . . . party supplies. Wanna ditch the date and come have a little fun?”

“No thanks.” I’m not sure if “party supplies” is supposed to be code for sex toys or drugs or both, and it really doesn’t matter. I was seventeen when Sabrina’s mother initiated me to the art of bondage and fucking. I don’t think I could stomach taking her daughter to bed after that, even if Sabrina is much more age-appropriate.