Page 23 of Primary Season
“Guilty as charged.” I glanced down at my chest. “But I like to think CrossFit has helped with that.”
“And now I know why you go so much.”
“Try to never miss a class.” I kissed her. “I’m really not that bad of a guy underneath. Just driven. A perfectionist. Focused.”
“And you want to be president more than anything else.”
“Of course. Doesn’t everyone?” We kissed again, and then I smiled against her lips. “Your turn.”
“Okay, I thought of something,” she said as she pulled away. “My first time wasn’t…good.”
“No one’s is. Except mine.”
She laughed and playfully socked me in the arm. “I mean it. Senior year. Homecoming. I was queen.” She nodded as if to confirm something she figured no one would believe. “And my boyfriend at the time was a guy named Justin Brandeis. We were— He said he loved me and I believed him.” Alex raised an eyebrow. “We had sex, and it was okay, but little did I know, he was filming it with this camera he’d hidden on a chest of drawers across from the bed.”
“Jesus Christ.” I recoiled. “Did he put it on the Internet?”
“No, but he threatened to.” She rolled her eyes at the memory, and I thought I saw a flash of pain beneath her beautiful eyes. “It made for a—let’s just call it aninterestingsenior year. A lot of people at school saw it and everyone had an opinion.” She shook her head. “Probably why I went to Tulane and never looked back. Omaha doesn’t have much for me.”
“And that’s why you’re so driven. You’ve seen what life looks like without a safety net.”
“Yep.”
“Of course now, here you are, sleeping with your boss.” I grinned. “I have to admit, I’m glad you are.”
“Good,” she said, and pulled me toward her. I took the soft drink out of her hand and set both of them on the nightstand.
“Where were we?” she asked.
“Right here,” I said, and my lips found hers.
