An uncomfortable laugh from my father. “There are people waiting to congratulate you—”
“Let them wait.” I can’t take my eyes off Addison now that I’ve let myself focus on her. Goddamn her for being so beautiful. For glowing and making me ache.
“Elijah—” begins my mother quietly.
“We’ll be along in a while. Please take my parents to the party,” I instruct the security team without looking away from my bristling girlfriend. What the hell is she mad about? If anyone has the right to be pissed, it’s me.
Reluctantly, my parents move off down the corridor, guided by the security guards. I’m still holding Addison’s wrist and I should bring her upstairs to my office, but we’re on the deserted lower floor of City Hall and the closest private room is behind us. I’ve only been inside the small mail sorting room once or twice, but right now, it’s everything I want. Close, convenient and empty. Works for me.
Seconds later, we’re closed in the darkened room, the only source of light, a trio of fogged portholes near the ceiling. “Congratulations,” she whispers. “Your speech was amazing. They were inspired, I could see it.”
“I don’t want to talk about the speech.” I use my grip to yank her up against me. As soon as our bodies connect, her eyes flutter, that lower lip dragging through her teeth. “I want to talk about the fact that you came here with someone else.” She opens her mouth to answer me, but an anger pocket bursts open inside me, and I add, “In your man-catching heels, too. Looks like you caught one.”
No sooner are the words out of my mouth do I want them back. I want them back more than anything, because a shutter slams down over her face and she’s suddenly unreadable to me. A puzzle where seconds ago she was the person I recognize most in the world. “Sure did. I was thinking he’d look great stuffed and mounted on my mantle.”
“Now is not the time to play with me.”
“No?” Her expression is one of mock innocence, along with her voice, and it’s like fingers massaging my libido. “Do you want to play with me, instead, Captain?”
My cock comes to life, growing heavy in my briefs. “Explain yourself,” I grit out, backing her toward a row of file cabinets. “Now.”
“No,” she fires back, gasping when I flatten her against the metal box, trapping her with my body. “No, I shouldn’t have to.”
“I should just trust you, shouldn’t I? After you wanted to see other people? After you stood there and let him hold you?”
Confusion slips past her defenses before she can rein it in. “I only said that…a-about other people to give you an out, in case…”
“In case what?”
Her lips press together, her palms connecting with my chest to push me off—with more force than I expect—but I don’t move an inch. Especially not when I see the sheen in her eyes. “Preston came to the door and said you wanted me here,” she shouts, her voice cracking. “He said your m-mother wanted me here. It was stupid to get in the car, but I was so happy, I wasn’t thinking. God. You asshole.”
My mother? Jesus. There’s so much to process here, but my attention snags on one tiny thread buried hidden in the giant quilt. “You were happy? I thought you didn’t want to come.”
“I know, right?” She throws up her hands, her breath catching. “I know. It’s like, I’ve become this person who says one thing and means another. I hate it. But what I want might not be the best thing for you. So I lied. I feel like I’m lying all the time.”
“Best thing for…” Confusion has me shaking my head. “The best thing for me is never going to be seeing you with another man.”
Her feminine growl is issued toward the ceiling. “Elijah, if you’re going to be a jealous idiot, I’m out of here.”
She fakes left, then lunges right, moving past me, but I catch her around the waist with an arm, pulling her back against my front. “Do you think I can help it?” I rasp into her hair, conforming my lap to her backside. “When I see him, it’s going to take all my willpower not to commit murder. You are mine.”
There’s a momentary softening before she slowly grows rigid again. “As much as I dislike him, it wasn’t his idea to come get me. B-by the time I realized something was wrong, it was too late. There were cameras…”
“Shhh,” I breathe into her hair, the distress in her voice prying my ribs open. “When I spoke to my mother last night, I told her I wanted you at the inauguration.” Discomfort moves inside me, but I’m not sure which direction it’s coming from anymore. “She must have meant well sending Preston over. Maybe she thought he could convince you?”