For the Record (Record #3)(16)

“What’s that?” he asked.

“We’ve been back for ten whole minutes, and my act-first-and-talk-later boyfriend hasn’t jumped my bones.”

Brady reached for her wine and set it on the coffee table. “I could fix that,” he said, nuzzling into her neck. He pressed her back into the sofa and soon they were kissing. So much of the tension fell away and she just enjoyed the feel of his lips against hers, the electricity that sparked between them, and the unending need to be closer to him.

After the trials of the last year, it felt like a miracle for them even to be sitting happily in the same room. It hadn’t been that long ago when the tension—sexual and otherwise—had rolled off of them, when they hadn’t been able to be around each other, when they had said cruel things just to keep their feelings at bay. Now having him here—Brady kissing her, smiling at her; enjoying each other’s company—it felt as if all of those things had just been what they’d had to endure to get back to each other.

They had both made stupid decisions along the way. But since neither could deny what was happening, they had inevitably ended up here once more. She couldn’t be without him. He couldn’t be without her. She knew time would only tell the depth of the truth in that assessment, but she couldn’t envision it any other way.

Brady tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear and gave her another sweet kiss. “You’ve had a stressful day. Tell me how to make it better.”

“I can think of a few ways,” she murmured.

“We should talk about what happened.”

“Not exactly what I had in mind.” She gave him a sultry look, as if he didn’t already know what she was talking about.

“All of this has happened really fast for you. I’m used to the spotlight. I want to make you more comfortable around it. It’s not going away.”

“I know,” she said, conceding to the deeper topic. She ran a hand back through her hair.

“I have faith that you know how to handle reporters. You’re a damn good reporter yourself.” He had that proud look in his eyes that he got when talking about her accomplishments. She had seen it before, when he had found out that she was a Morehead scholar, the highest scholarship on UNC’s campus, and when she had accepted the job at the New York Times.

“I understand reporters,” she said with a shrug. “I was just bombarded today.”

“Yeah. You weren’t prepared for that, but you will be next time. I think that’s half of the battle.”

Liz sighed and nodded. She wanted Brady. This came with Brady. She would learn to deal with it.

“I wish you were going to be here all the time to figure this stuff out,” she admitted. She didn’t know why, but she felt really small and vulnerable divulging that. It went beyond needing her boyfriend nearby or even wanting to spend more time in the comfort of her new relationship. She was treading through dangerous waters without a guide and she had just learned how to swim.

Brady nodded. “I would like that too. I’m honestly not used to having someone else in my life that I want to see all the time.”

She spared him a bright smile. “I seem to be a game changer.”

“Understatement. You’re more than the game changer. You’re the game and the team and the league and the whole universe of sports wrapped up into one neat little package.”

Another thought tickled the back of her mind. She had always needed answers, and just because she didn’t work for the paper now didn’t mean that had changed. “How often will I see you, though? I don’t know how this works.”

Brady actually managed to look uncomfortable for a split second. “Before you, I spent eighty percent of my time in Congress working. I came back to North Carolina as often as I could for things such as your colloquium, but my job is to take what the people want to Congress.”

“How exactly can you do that without spending time with the people?” Liz asked dryly, not liking where this conversation was headed.

He gave her a pointed look. “I’ve lived here my entire life. I know the people. There’s so much that goes into the job besides just sitting in meetings.”

“I know,” she said quickly. “I just want to see you.”

“You will see me. I’ll make sure of it. We have the weekends. If I can’t make it here, then I’ll fly you up to visit me. We’ll make it work. I know we can’t be together all the time, since you’re still in school. Graduation should be your number one priority,” he told her.

“School is the last thing I want to think about.”

Brady leaned forward and kissed her. “You’ll appreciate it more when you’re done. And anyway, the sooner you graduate, the sooner I can have you around more. Summers in an election year are always a good time for me to be in Chapel Hill.”

Liz swung her leg over Brady’s so she was straddling him. “I think it’s always a good time for you to be in Chapel Hill.”

His hands ran up her dark jeans, grasped her hips firmly, and then slid to her ass. “I’m starting to agree with you.”

“Just now?” she asked incredulously. Her lips hovered mere inches from his temptingly.

“Convince me,” he commanded.

She brushed her lips against his, featherlight, always just out of his reach. “And here I thought you were the one who wanted complete control.”