Author: K.A. Linde

“I had to be sure,” he told her flatly.

“Totally normal.” She wanted that to irritate her, but she found that it didn’t as much as she thought it would. If he was serious enough to look into her background, then he must really want to see her again.

“So, what do you think?” he asked finally.

“Well,” she said uncertainly, “I don’t know.”

“You don’t want to see me?” He apparently seemed amused at the thought. He knew she wanted to see him.

“I do,” she corrected. She couldn’t lie about that. “But I don’t know why you had to bring me here at seven o’clock in the morning to tell me that. Why didn’t you just come to my place yesterday?”

“Because I can’t see you when you want to see me,” Brady told her, pushing his diner coffee away and meeting her eyes.

Hers were already narrowed. “But you can see me when you want to?”

“Yes.” He didn’t even try to hide behind his charming words.

“Why? I don’t get it.”

“I want to see you, but in the position I’m…we’re in, it’s not possible,” he told her.

“What, because you’re running for office?” She knew she sounded incredulous, but it made sense. He wouldn’t want to risk anything…especially not on a woman, no matter his big talk.

“And you’re a reporter…a college reporter,” he reminded her.

“And I wrote that article,” she said, filling in the blanks.

“You did,” Brady confirmed. “While I don’t mind you pointing out my faults, the campaign and my opponents will see it as me giving up the nomination.”

“Why are you here then?” she asked, her anger mounting once more.

“Because I still want you. Weeks later, I still want you. And you want me too.”

Liz’s stomach dropped and all the anger she had been holding dissipated. He wanted her. She knew he did, but hearing it like that was intoxicating. She didn’t want to give him up. She was having a fucking hard time even concentrating on anything else. After he had left, it felt as if she had a hole in her chest. She didn’t know if it was the sex, because that had been fantastic, or if it was just Brady. As much as she wanted it to be the second, that idea scared the shit out of her.

“So, you want me, but you can’t see me?”

“I can’t see you on your terms,” he corrected.

“What does that even mean?” Liz asked, raising her voice. She immediately quieted down and looked around the restaurant. No one had even glanced at them. That was lucky.

“Look, I want us to continue what we’re doing, but in private. I don’t want to jeopardize my career…or your career,” he added quickly.

Liz breathed in and out deeply, realizing finally what he was saying. “You want a fuck buddy,” she stated as bluntly as possible. If he was going to be all out in the open, she wanted plain words. She wanted to know what he was offering…what kind of deal she was willing to take.

He sighed as if she was misinterpreting, but she was sure she wasn’t. He wanted to sleep with her, no strings attached, while he was on the campaign and too busy for anything else. She had heard of these kinds of situations before. She never knew how they happened…how they got started—apparently at seven o’clock in the morning at a dingy diner in downtown Chapel Hill over coffee.

“That’s not what I had in mind,” he said.

“No? That’s what it sounds like. So, what kind of situation is this?” she asked, her anger resurfacing. She didn’t even know where it came from, because it wasn’t as if she didn’t want to sleep with him, and it wasn’t as if she didn’t want to keep it a secret. Some innate trigger in her brain was firing and she was listening. “Do you get to sleep with other people? Are you going to be dating someone who fits you better in the spotlight? Should I find someone else to date in the meantime?”

“Liz,” he snapped, cutting off whatever she was going to say next. “I’m not here to argue the point. I’m not here to discuss terms. I want you, and I want you anytime I can have you. That happens to be a much more limited time frame. If you aren’t interested, then good luck with your paper.” He pulled out his wallet, threw two twenties on the table, and stood.

“Wait,” Liz said, reaching for his arm, “I didn’t say I wasn’t interested.” Her cheeks flamed at the admission, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to let him walk out of the diner.

His brown eyes stared right through her, as if measuring the honesty in her statement. “All right,” he said, sitting back down.

“Uh…” she began, nibbling on her bottom lip, “I’ve never exactly been propositioned…let alone at a diner first thing in the morning.”

“As much as I enjoy hearing that…I find it hard to believe. No one has ever come on to you?” he asked inquisitively.

“It’s not that,” she said, trying to find the words. “I’ve had boyfriends before, but I met them in…normal places, like school or work or something. But usually people aren’t that interested before getting to know me. Um…I’ve heard I’m intimidating.” She shrugged.

“Really?” he asked, looking her up and down. “I guess I could see that.”

She didn’t know how. She couldn’t figure out why anyone thought that.

“You’re a well-educated woman at a top university with staggering confidence,” he told her, filling in the blanks.

Liz looked down, overloaded by the compliments. “Well, I did bring a Senator to his knees once,” she said, trying to break the tension.

He chuckled softly. “I hope it’s not just once,” he responded.

Liz stared at the napkin resting on the tabletop. She wasn’t sure what to say. He was making a proposition that, to be honest, sounded downright appealing. It’s not as if they could ever come out and announce they were dating. It’s not as if he had asked to date her. He wanted her and he wanted her whenever he could have her. Those were his words…the terms he refused to discuss.

“You’re thinking too hard about this,” he told her with a shake of his head.

“I can’t think about it?”

“The longer you think about it, the more likely you are to make a decision I don’t agree with,” Brady answered.

“So, you’re saying if I think about it…I’ll realize how much of a bad idea it is to get involved with you?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Something like that.”

“Well, that’s not true. I’ve already realized that.”

“It’s not a good idea.” His voice lowered and he leaned toward her. “I’m not telling you that it’s a good idea. But it’s the only idea.”

“Is that so?” she whispered, meeting his intense tone.

“Tell me you haven’t been thinking about me since we parted.” He waited.

She didn’t respond. How could she?

“Tell me you haven’t been thinking about me pressed against your body, the feel of my lips kissing every inch of your skin, me thrusting in and out of you in the dark hotel room. If you can tell me that, then I’ll let you go. No questions asked,” he said, sitting back once more and crossing his arms. “Because I haven’t stopped thinking about any of those things, and your flushed face tells me you haven’t either.”

More than her face was heated at his words. She crossed and uncrossed her legs, trying not to look away, but he had reminded her of all the things she wanted him to do to her again. It was too early for her body to be responding in this manner.

“So?” he prompted.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about those things…about you,” she fessed up.

“That’s what I thought.”

Cocky son of a bitch! she thought.

“That doesn’t mean I’m ready to do this with you. Whatever this is,” she said, holding her hands up.

Brady sighed. “This is almost whatever you want it to be. It’s not public. It’s not in the news. It’s not a point the campaign can use against me. It’s a woman and a man taking what they can in a world where it’s not feasible for us to be together. I’m not promising you much, but I’m only asking for discretion. Everything else you give me is up to you.”

“Discretion.” She said the word like it was a viper ready to strike. Discretion wasn’t afforded in journalism.

“I’ll be up-front with you. I might hurt you. You’re going in knowing that. I’m choosing the campaign. I’m choosing Congress, because it’s what I want and what I believe in. Nothing, no one is getting in the way of me and the House of Representatives.”

How romantic, she grumbled in her head.

“I’m not going to pretend otherwise. I’m giving you what I can give you, and I’m telling you in advance you might get hurt. But it’s worth it to take the risk. I can damn well promise you that it’s worth it.”

He paused, waiting for her to say something. She wanted to tell him, Yes, God yes, a thousand times yes! But so much of this worried her. He was offering her so much, but holding back even more. What if she got invested? What the hell! She was already invested!

She couldn’t take more of him than he was offering, but if she turned him down, then she wouldn’t have any of him. One night in a dark hotel room wasn’t enough for her. It could never be enough.

Sitting there at a turning point, she remembered the feeling when she left the party in Charlotte. It was impulsive and downright insane compared to her normal behavior, but she had known then as she knew now that if she said no, she would regret it forever.

Liz never wanted to regret Brady Maxwell.

“All right,” she murmured, threading her fingers together.

“All right?”

“I agree to whatever we’re doing.”

Brady’s smile was entirely magnetic, taking her breath away. She wanted to be the reason for that smile, and every other one after it.

“So, what exactly are we doing?” she asked hesitantly.

“Do you still have that card I gave you?” She nodded, reaching into her purse and pulling it out of her wallet. He pointed out the different numbers. “This is my personal line. It’s best that you don’t try to reach me on it. I don’t check it or give it out frequently, because I suspect it’s being tapped. My parents and a couple college friends still use it, but that’s about it.”

Liz couldn’t imagine this kind of life. What were the other numbers for?

“This is my campaign line. It’s specifically for campaign-related information. I am always on it. I don’t think it’s been tapped by the opposition yet, but we’ll see how it goes. You can reach me on this one during the day. It would look strange for it to go off any other time. This number goes directly to my secretary. Right now her name is Nancy, but they come and go. She is the easiest way to get hold of me.”

Liz was buzzing with all of the information. Three separate lines for three separate things, and all to reach one man.

“So, I just call and ask for you?”

“Yes. She’ll ask for your name, and you’ll give her a fake one,” he instructed her.

“You’ve really thought his through, huh?” she asked, staring at him with newfound intrigue.

“It’s my job to think everything through,” he told her.

“If you did, then you wouldn’t have passed down that education bill,” she retorted.

Brady stared at her blankly, a look she had come to associate as his campaign mask. How had she come to know his faces so well already?