“You do?” he asked cautiously.

“When you were attacked, something…changed. It shifted the paradigm of our relationship. It made me realize how much you mean to me, and I think it showed you how much I mean to you. I know I did something incredibly stupid by trying to make you jealous, and you got hurt. I can never tell you how sorry I am.”

“I don’t blame you for what happened, Andrea.”

“I know. And I appreciate that.”

She took a deep breath, and he saw a flicker of fear cross her features.

What could be so important that it would rattle Andrea?

“I just want us to be on the same page. When we were at the art gallery and you stood up to Asher for me…” Her hand went to her stomach. “I have never been happier than in that moment. You claimed me as your own. You were completely serious when you were protective of me. For a moment, I knew that must be what Liz felt like when she was with Brady.”

“What?” Clay choked out.

Fire alarms were going off in his head.

This was not the conversation he’d thought they were going to be having. She thinks that we’re like Liz and Brady? She thinks that the paradigm of our relationship has shifted because I scared off that douche bag?

“Ever since that happened, I’ve really felt like you and I are in tune, in sync. And I’ve realized that I like the direction we’ve taken.”

“You…do?”

She nodded. “This is what I never knew I wanted. For so long, I thought that it would be easier to close myself off to escape the abandonment I’d always felt from my parents. But it’s been fifteen years, Clay. Ten years of dating. I don’t think we’re going anywhere. And I just want this to stay that way, not to go back to being closed off and uncaring.”

“Okay,” he said slowly.

“Do you get what I’m saying?” she asked. Her blue eyes were wide and hopeful.

“Yeah,” he answered carefully. “You want us to stay the same.”

She slowly breathed out through her nose. “No, I want us to grow. I think we’re growing. I want to be with you, Clay. This works for us.”

He nodded, his head buzzing with her words. She seemed satisfied that he was nodding along, but internally, he was freaking the fuck out.

What exactly did growing together mean? Did that mean she wanted to change how things had been? Did she want us to stop sleeping around?

Until this moment, he hadn’t realized how serious Andrea had been about ending all the games.

“So…where do we go from here?” he asked.

“Why don’t we just go to the ball as a couple and see where the night takes us?”

Chapter 11

SAME PAGE, DIFFERENT BOOK

Fuck.

Oh, fuck.

He had fucked up.

He had definitely fucked up.

Andrea thought they were on the same page. She thought that what had happened with Bad Suit and the way Clay had acted that night had changed things. She thought the attack had changed things.

As far as Clay was concerned, the only things that had changed were that he had wheezed for a few weeks, and he was fifteen hundred dollars poorer.

This shit with Andrea felt the same as it had every day before it. Did he care about her? Of course. He always had. He always would. She was that person to him. The one he’d never walk away from, who always totally got him, no explanation necessary.

But that didn’t mean they were on the same page. Because Andrea was talking about mushy feelings that he, as a grown-ass man, was not interested in thinking about. Shit had been fucking fine for too long to shift the paradigm of their relationship.

He hadn’t thought that claiming her in front of Bad Suit would have this kind of reaction. Has she already been thinking like this, and the night at the art gallery has just solidified it?

What he did know…was that he was freaking out.

He was trying to control it. They still had to get through the ball tonight. But the idea of a relationship, a real goddamn relationship, made him want to turn tail and run in the other fucking direction.

Andrea kept shooting him curious glances in the short limo ride to the inaugural ball. He probably should have said something to ease her anxiety. It wasn’t like he was leaving, but they needed to have another conversation about this new direction. He just figured that having that conversation right before they were about to go out in public wasn’t the best idea.

They arrived at the inaugural ball in style. Their limo dropped them off at the front entrance, and Clay helped Andrea out of the car before they walked into the room. It was a giant space, big enough for the enormous crowd that was supposed to arrive tonight. Cash bars were sporadically placed around the room, and there were light hors d’oeuvres on tables. Clay knew the after-party was where the real action would happen, but this event allowed lobbyists to schmooze with politicians in a fluid manner since dinner wouldn’t actually be served. He couldn’t wait to get shit-faced at the after-party. It was like the Vanity Fair Oscars after-party for politicians.

Andrea wrapped her hand around his elbow and smiled. “Shall we?”

He nodded, and they meandered through the room. They found Brady in a more secluded area with Liz on his arm. As Clay and Andrea approached, Brady was chatting with some of his fellow politicians.

Liz extended her left hand to the group. “Yes. This June. We’re both very excited,” she said.

“A wedding for the ages,” one woman said, leaning forward and examining the ring.

Clay knew that he should be able to recognize most of the people here, but his thoughts were back in Andrea’s apartment.

“It’s going to be beautiful,” Andrea said.

“It’s going to be sweltering,” Clay corrected. “Asheville in June. Even with the mountains, it’s going to be hot and humid.”

“You wear a suit every day. It’ll be fine,” Andrea said.

“Oh, don’t complain, Clay,” Liz teased. “It’ll be you next anyway.”

“Excuse me?”

“Clay,” Andrea warned.

Brady laughed and clapped his brother on the back. “Don’t take everything so seriously, Clay. She just meant that you and Andrea have been together forever. You’re clearly a match. It’s not crazy to think that you’d be next getting married. God forbid, it’s Savannah!”