The Endgame (Atlanta Lightning 1)

But he had to want it, which was why I wasn’t going to be the one to bring it up again. The ball was in Anson’s court…or I guess I should say the play was in his hands. Who the fuck knew; sports analogies weren’t my strong suit.

I’d left Atlanta and flown straight to Washington, where I went to my studio apartment not far from Capitol Hill. A day later, I was at work. We had a busy couple of days ahead, and I’d be lucky to get out of there Thursday afternoon to head back to San Francisco. With our busy and sometimes conflicting schedules, how often would Anson and I even be able to see each other? I’d offered to let him use me to experience being with a man, but it would be difficult to find the time to do it.

And…why was I thinking about him again?

I needed to get my ass out of my damn chair. I had legislation to propose, and bills to debate and vote on.

I grabbed my cup of coffee and headed out of my Capitol Hill office. I should be used to seeing my father, on the other side of the Senate chamber, nearly every week, but no matter how prepared I thought I was, my stomach tightened every time. As much as I tried to deny it, there was still a little boy inside me who wished things weren’t strained between us, that things would somehow change, but they never did.

Of course, just as I walked down the hallway and past his door, he emerged from his office. Our eyes met, and he looked away first. “Dad.” I nodded, even though he wasn’t looking at me.

“Weston.”

Jesus, we were so similar in some ways. Photos of my dad at my age showed that I looked just like him. It was something the press mentioned every chance they got. We were both hard workers, stubborn, and relentlessly fought for what we believed in. Unfortunately, what we believed in was a world apart. It wasn’t just because of his party affiliation either. I could work with the other side of the aisle. I respected the hell out of a number of men and women from the other party, but my father…he wasn’t the same. He was conservative in the extreme. He hated everything about who I was.

“Your mother was in tears when she saw the latest photos.”

I sighed. “Because I was dancing with a man? Because I kissed him? Would she have cried if he had been a woman?”

“You don’t respect the office you hold. It’s a disgrace.”

“No.” I stopped walking. He did too. “I very much respect my position. I work my ass off, and you know it. There’s nothing I want more than to fight for people and make positive changes. You don’t get to use your hatred of me to attack my work ethic.”

“Lower your voice,” he said through tight lips.

“Of course. We wouldn’t want to make a scene, would we?” Without another word, I walked away.

It was a shitty day after that. We were in session later than we should have been, and by the time I got back to my apartment, I wanted nothing more than to lock myself away from the world with food, a drink, and maybe some porn.

Unfortunately, I still had work to do, so I changed and got to it. There were some phone calls I needed to return, but they weren’t urgent. Jeremy called, but I didn’t answer. Why had I let my father get to me? I should be over it by now, but I wasn’t.

I sat at the desk with my computer and too much paperwork in front of me. When my cell rang again, my eyes drifted over to check the display.

Bashful.

I didn’t feel like talking to anyone. I’d ignored everyone else, and for a brief moment, I thought about declining Anson’s call too, but what if he took it personally? What if he thought I’d changed my mind or was avoiding him after what happened? I couldn’t let those thoughts take root in his head, so I picked up the call.

“Hey,” I said.

“Hey,” he replied.

“Jack off thinking about me after I left?” It was a whole lot easier to pretend nothing was going on. If I had fun with him, maybe I could forget that I was upset about my dad.

“Did you?”

“Yes. Absolutely. More than once. Want me to do it over a video call next time?”

He gave me a soft chuckle in return. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Thank you.”

We were both quiet then. I left my desk, went to my bed, and sat down with my back against the headboard.

He said, “I’m still thinking about it. Your offer, I mean. God, that sounds so seedy. I feel like I should be paying you or something.”