Page 84 of The Love You Fight For
“How long until you’ll be back?”
“A couple of weeks, probably.”
I take a deep breath and work on stacking bricks back on my mental wall. Not to keep Chris out, but in preparation for everything that’s coming.
“My father has a big fundraising gala coming up, and we have to travel for a few campaign rallies. It’s going to be exhausting.”
My father is polling well. It’s not a surprise. The media declared him the winner of the candidate debate last week, and while no one will admit it, it’s because Ashton has been pawning off more responsibilities on to me and I was able to rework all of my father’s talking points. I’m sure his upcoming rallies will be one big voter circle-jerk. At this rate, there’s no doubt that he’ll win the primaries.
If he makes it, anyway.
I try not to consider it. It will be a long, miserable campaign if things don’t work out for me. Or maybe it won’t be. I guess there’s no reason to stick around if all my plans fall apart. And really, theidea of leaving it all behind and living in peace with the people I really care about is becoming more tempting than anything else.
Even if everything falls apart after today.
Even if I have to amend my end goals and accept a less than ideal outcome.
At least I’ll still have Lennon. I think I’ll still have Chris. And it won’t be in a world where my father is president.
“You can call me, you know,” he says, pulling me from my thoughts. “Or text. If you want to talk. I wouldn’t mind.”
“Okay.” I try to calm my smile.
The idea of having phone dates with him makes me feel giddy. It makes the upcoming stretch of weeks in Washington seem a little less daunting. The promise of a moment of peace amid the chaos.
“When do you have to be on the road?” he asks.
“An hour.”
He nods, then snakes his hand between us and rubs my clit. My breath hitches and my eyes fall shut at his touch.
“Then let’s make good use of the time,” he whispers, then takes my lips in a deep kiss that turns my blood molten.
Chris hikes my leg up onto his waist, and then slowly, he pushes into me. We both sigh, our foreheads pressed together. I’m ready for him. I’m always ready for him. I just refused to admit it to myself until now. I didn’t want to acknowledge my want for him, so deep and insistent it borders on need, but it’s impossible to ignore. It’s always there, coiled in my chest, wrapped tightly around my heart, waiting patiently. Loyally. Waiting for him.
Slowly, he moves his hips, fucking me slow and deep in a way that makes me feel everything all at once.
Cherished. Special. Precious.Loved.
My heart thunders and my eyes sting.
I love him.
I love Chris Casper.
I only hope I get to keep him.
The crowd roarsas my father speaks.
They clap after every sentence. They cheer at every pause.
It’s just a large sea of HARPER FOR PRESIDENT hats and banners with his smiling face on them. I thought I would hate these people, but now I just feel sorry for them for falling for the lie.
The lie I’ve been feeding them.
When my father is finished speaking and he strolls off the stage, he claps his hand on Ashton’s shoulder.
“Great job, Senator. They were hanging on your every word.”
