“I know, but I don’t think murdering the reporter who is writing an ongoing story about you would get you reelected.”

He kissed the top of her head and held her close. “Good to know someone is thinking about my reelection chances.”

“Always,” she murmured.

Brady walked her back over to the couch, and after her tears dammed up, she started her story again. At least the hardest part was out of the way. Though she knew he wasn’t going to like what was coming after that.

“I told Hayden a week ago, and the story broke yesterday. He didn’t tell me that he was going to put it in the paper. Everything seemed normal . . . or as normal as it could be.” Brady tensed next to her, and she knew he wanted to make a remark about Hayden. “I saw the article in the paper and freaked out. I was actually with Savannah when it broke.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, so I guess at least I had someone to break down with,” Liz said with a sad shrug. “Anyway, I tried to call Hayden, but he never returned my call.”

“Pussy,” Brady growled under his breath.

“Yeah. Then I got a call from Heather.”

“What?” he demanded.

“I hadn’t been planning to call you in the first place, because you told me not to and I wanted to respect what you wanted. Then she called me and told me not to contact you.”

“I can’t believe she would go behind my back like that.”

“Really? After how she reacted when she found out about us, and then with her name ending up in Hayden’s article? I’m surprised you didn’t think of it yourself.”

Brady shook his head, trying to process all the new information. “I guess I should have thought that she would tie up everything she thought was a loose end.”

“That’s me,” Liz said bitterly. “A loose end.”

“You know what I mean . . .”

“Yeah. I do. But as you can imagine, after that conversation I decided to get drunk, which is when Clay called me.”

Brady looked at her in disbelief. “And how does Clay have your phone number?”

“I gave it to him at your gala event that summer we were together. He’d never used it before, but remember that same night he thought my name was Liz Carmichael.”

“So he put two and two together,” Brady said, inching away from her. He laced his fingers together and stared down at them as he tried to find words. “I know that Clay has a certain reputation. I’d hope that I don’t have to kill my brother too.”

“Um . . . no. You don’t. He kissed me, but that’s all.”

“You kissed him?”

“Um . . . yeah.”

“And he was satisfied with just a kiss?”

“Well, no, but it’s kind of complicated. I thought that I was never going to see you again, so when I went with Clay, I was in a really low place.”

“But you just kissed?” Brady asked to clarify.

“Yes. He told me that you and Erin broke up, and something in me snapped back into place. I realized what I should have known all along. You were it for me. Nothing else really mattered. I had to talk to you. I had to get you to see that this could be fixed. I wasn’t broken as long as I still had a sliver of hope. Which is how I ended up stealing Clay’s phone to call you. And now I guess we’re here.”

“That’s a lot to take in,” Brady admitted.

“It is. That’s why I wanted to talk to you in person. I never would have told Hayden in a million years if I had thought that he would write about it.”

“Didn’t you even think to clarify with him that this wasn’t on the record?”

Liz tucked her legs up underneath herself and sighed. “He was my boyfriend. We’d been together for almost a year and a half. I never thought that he would do that.”

“Goddamn reporters.”

Liz shrugged her shoulders helplessly. “I’ve never hated them more than in this moment.”

Brady stood up and paced the room. She could see him trying to process everything she had told him. She knew he already believed her. It would be a pretty elaborate story for her to make up, and what would be the point in that? She was here. She was with him. She wasn’t about to start lying now.

He pivoted and stared at her. He took in every aspect as his eyes roamed from her body clad in his baggy clothing up to her messy towel-dried hair to her face, open and vulnerable to him. With everything she was worth, she wished she knew what was going on inside of that head.

“So, the real concern is where to go from here,” Brady said, his voice even and level. She could see the mask slipping into place, see the wall slamming down and closing her out.

“Please don’t do that,” she whispered.

“What?”

“I’m right here. You can talk to me. You can tell me what you’re thinking,” Liz pleaded. “I’m not the public. I’m not the threat. I don’t want you to think that you have to hide.”

“How do you do that?” he asked in disbelief.

“Do what?”

“See through me so easily. All I did was look at you and ask a question.”

Liz slowly shook her head. “That’s not what I see when I look at you, Brady.” She brushed her hair off of her shoulder, moving it all to one side. “You’re not the campaign with me. You’re not a congressman with me. You’re just the man I fell for, and that man tried to shut me out once. I’m not letting it happen again.”

Brady broke her gaze and let his eyes shift out the window. “I think there was a bit of mutual fault in that instance.”

“Yeah. I guess we were both stupid.” Liz sighed. There was so much she wanted to know. She didn’t even know where to start . . . or where exactly they could go from here. “What was it like not having me at your side at all of those events?”

“What does it matter?” he asked, glancing back up at her.

“I was just curious. Like, was Erin all that great? Why were you with her to begin with? She was out there in public with you, on your arm. It seemed so wrong. And you just let her talk about all of that stuff at the dinner with your parents and I just had to sit there. I mean, a morning talk show host who does charity work with inner-city kids? Really? She must have given really great head, because she sure was boring . . .”