For the Record (Record #3)(81)

Liz closed her eyes as she soaked in Brady’s words. Airplanes. Damn airplanes always did her in.

Why did he have to be equal parts charming and persuasive? Couldn’t she have fallen for someone whose career didn’t depend on being able to convince thousands of people to like him? And the hardest part was that she didn’t like him . . . she loved him wholeheartedly. She wanted to succumb to his easy words, throw herself into his arms, and forget that any of this had happened. But the ache in her chest held her.

“Why didn’t you tell me about Chelsea? I was around her this whole time. She was probably laughing in my oblivious face. You spend all of this time hating on Hayden and being jealous of a relationship that’s dead, but you don’t think that I have the right to know that I’m going to be around an ex of yours?” she asked. Her eyes fluttered open and she met his gaze head-on.

“To be honest, it didn’t cross my mind. After I told her that I no longer saw her that way, I assumed she would just move on and act professionally by never bringing it up again. I was clearly wrong.”

“How does it feel to admit that?” she asked with a harsh laugh.

“It doesn’t happen often, but I do make mistakes.” One hand slid to the small of her back and the other up into her hair. “Like letting you walk out the door two years ago and not following you . . . demanding you see reason . . . offering you the world.”

He dropped his mouth down onto hers, but she pulled back after a second with a sigh. She shook her head and walked away from Brady. Her head was still spinning with everything she’d heard tonight. All she wanted was to forget that this had all happened, but it had happened. So now she had to deal with it.

“You still don’t believe me?” Brady asked.

“I want to. I really do,” she said earnestly.

“Do you want me to get down on my knees? Do you want me to beg forgiveness for not telling you about Chelsea sooner? Do you want me to plead with you to reconsider? I’ll do it. Whatever you want me to do. I’ll do it,” he insisted. “You mean everything to me. I don’t want this to ruin the best thing in my life.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me? If it meant nothing and it was no big deal, why didn’t you tell me?” she demanded, searching his eyes for the explanation. “You should have told me.”

Brady hung his head for a second to collect his thoughts and then seemed to relent. “You’re right. I should have. You deserved to know, even if it meant nothing. And it means nothing.”

“Not good enough,” she said, backing away. “When Hayden came up to me at school because he wanted to see me again, I called you and told you as soon as I got home. I didn’t hide anything from you. Not even for a day.”

“I wasn’t purposely hiding it from you. When it happened, you were already dismantling your life and stressed about graduation, being in the paper, and then moving in with me. I didn’t want to lay more stress at your feet.”

She had been insanely stressed out at the start of the summer. Everything seemed to be piling on top of her head, but still she would have wanted to know what was going on. “What about after that, when I met her? No heads-up?” she asked.

“It was over by then. The only contact I had with her the rest of the summer was completely professional and you were there every time. These texts came out of nowhere, and I’m going to ask to work with someone else from EMi from this point forward,” he told her. “I assume they assigned her to work with me because I’ve known her a long time. But I’m cutting off contact. I don’t need this to interfere with the love of my life or my career.”

“Aren’t they the same thing?” she whispered harshly.

“Liz, please just think about this for a minute,” he said, closing the distance between them once more and backing her up against the wall. He placed his hands on her hips and then rested his forehead on hers. “I love you. You are the love of my life. Please . . . please,” he said hoarsely, “don’t let this ruin us.”

She sighed. Blind trust. That’s what he was asking for. Did she trust him? Did she trust him not to play her like that? That nagging feeling crept through her, but then she let his words wash over the anger. This was Brady, the man who wouldn’t even tell her he loved her when he knew he did because he couldn’t promise her a relationship. Now he was promising her everything that she’d ever wanted, and she couldn’t stop thinking that it was all too good to be true.

But Brady wouldn’t give her those things if he didn’t want to. He wouldn’t have gone public, had her move in, travel around the campaign, use her speeches, or tell her he loved her if he didn’t mean it. He had made all of that clear from the get-go. But he was doing those things, and it made her reevaluate her reaction to this.

Maybe it was one-sided. Maybe Chelsea just wanted what she couldn’t have anymore. Maybe he wasn’t playing her. Maybe.

“You love me?” she whispered.

“So much.”

His lips found hers again, soft and tender, with every ounce of that love pouring between them. It was as sweet as honey and intoxicating as the hardest liquor. She couldn’t let a few text messages ruin their relationship. It hurt to even think about letting this go. She wanted it . . . she wanted Brady more than anything else in her existence.