Page 111 of Ambiguous
Putting an arm round him, I tug him to me. He shivers and smiles. “Okay.”
“I love that you seem genuinely into whatever I suggest,” I murmur, and he trembles again.
“That’s because I am.” He flushes.
Studying him for a moment, I step back and reach out a hand. It’s not very steady. “Come for a walk with me.”
Sam stares at me, blinking. “You mean that?”
I nod and bite my lip.
“In public?” He lifts an eyebrow.
I nod again. This is on my terms.
He swivels his head, studying our surroundings, then returns his gaze to me. “With you?”
“Yes, Sam.” I grin gently, but my mouth is dry.
Sam sighs. “I can’t. I’ve had meeting after meeting with the PR people and my grandfather. And they keep telling me to put it off until after the election.”
His words feel like the worst possible feedback, delivered straight to my brain via an in-ear monitor. It’s taken a lot for me to get to where I want this, and now he’s shutting me down.
“Do you really think your grandfather will lose an election just because you get photographed on Rodeo Drive with me?”
He twists the skull ring of mine he’s wearing. “Well, when you put it that way, no.” He swallows. “They asked me not to be photographed, though.”
Ugh. It pisses me off that other people have a say in our relationship. I fold my arms across my chest and narrow my eyes. “So that’s it, is it?”
Sam licks his lips and blinks rapidly. “What’s it?”
A mirthless laugh bursts out of me. “I’m asking if I can be out in public with you—really and truly out—and you’re saying no. Even though all I’m suggesting is an innocent walk, and you’ve been asking me to be more open practically since we met.”
He blows out a noisy breath and lowers his voice. “I very, very much do not want to say no. It makes me incredibly proud that you’re willing to come out in this way. I’m just worried about the campaign. I don’t want to ruin anything.”
Shoving my hands in my pockets, I lean in and say, “All I want to do is hold your hand while going for a walk. We can do it fast, if you want.”
Sam starts to say something, then considers it and stops. His brows pull in, and he looks at his feet, then looks back at me, scratching his cheek.
I stand firm, widening my feet and lifting my chin. “What do you say? I’m coming out. No press release. Nothing like that. We’re just walking. Two men, together.”
There’s another moment, during which I can feel him hovering on the edge. I want to say the perfect thing,willhim to choose me, choose us. All I can do is wait. And then, “Okay,” he whispers, mirroring my posture, standing steady, his jaw set.
I beam at him. “Hold that thought.” I take the few steps to my waiting driver, Tom. “Hey, we’re going to go for a short walk. Meet you in a little bit?”
“As you wish, Mr. Hill.”
“Cheers.” Without any further preamble, I grab Sam’s hand.
He looks down at our joined fingers and then back up at me. “Like this?”
“That okay?” My heart is beating so fast it worries me, and my insides go all fluttery.
Sam takes a deep breath and squeezes my hand. His is dry and warm. “We’re gonna get photographed.”
“That’s what I want. But let’s be fast.”
He giggles. “This is the worst idea ever, but I’m sick of doing everything for everyone else.” He steps into my personal space. “I want to do something for us. For me. For you.”
