Shameless(68)

“The promotion you did for today…” He doesn’t need to finish that statement because I know where this is headed. “Where did you learn that? In your last job?”

I nod, hating that my dream job has become such a source of embarrassment.

He clears his throat. “You don’t want to talk about it.”

I tap his thigh for him to move, and he slides down next to me and props his head up on one arm before he threads his fingers through my hair. I stare at his tattoos, knowing that sharing about myself will make the end of us that much harder. “I don’t mean to be mysterious. It’s just that it’s tied into a lot of things I’m not really proud of.”

He nods, but I can see he’s curious.

Taking a deep sigh, I pull up the covers so I’m not so naked and return my attention to him. “It’s nothing terrible, really. I’m probably being a drama queen. But I’ve always been a really private person. You get used to being at the center of people’s ire when you’re the kid of migrant workers, so I’ve learned it’s better to keep my mouth shut.” I don’t say the rest. What’s on the tip of my tongue. So no one can hurt me.

His lips form a straight line, and I trace the outline of the ouroboros on his chest. “I worked as a public relations specialist for Senator Harrington.” I nibble my bottom lip, hating that I have to say more.

“That’s a big job right out of college,” he observes.

“It helped that I was dating his son, who also worked on the senator’s re-election campaign.” I shake my head. “I mean, that’s not why I was dating him. Eric and I met in college. He asked me out a few times, but I always declined. I finally agreed to go out with him near the end of our senior year. I knew the guy was driven, and he talked about going into politics. I liked that he seemed passionate about making a difference. He introduced me to his father at graduation. Next thing I knew, Senator Harrington was offering me a job.”

His lips twitch, and I say it before he gets the chance to. “Yeah, totally suspicious, right? But what the hell did I know? I was a poor college grad who needed a job, and here was one of the most respected men in the state giving me a great opportunity. Never mind that I’m not even a Republican.”

Brady chuckles, and that hand comes down to rest on my hip as I continue. “But I did follow politics, and I knew at the heart of his campaign was fracking reform. And as you know, I’m passionate about the issue. Which is why, at Eric’s graduation dinner, I might have told the senator his platform was a little flimsy and that if he really wanted to make a difference, he needed to restrict the number of fracking wells in the state.”

A smile creeps out on Brady’s lips as he watches me rant. “It’s not what I would want, mind you, but I thought it would be a big step in the right direction. If it were up to me, it would be banned, plain and simple, but I’m not fool enough to think that will ever happen. But when the senator told me I had impressed him and that he’d love for me to help him craft that very message on his campaign, I thought it was a dream come true. I mean, what PR grad gets offered an amazing job within hours of getting her diploma?”

I fidget with a loose thread hanging from my sheet, hating the rest of this story. “Working for the senator was surreal. His team decided I couldn’t very well traipse across the state representing the esteemed Walter Harrington in my Target-brand threads, so they bought me clothes.”

Clearing my throat, I continue. “And then it somehow became Eric who bought me clothes and gave me a company car and expensive phone. And then it became about me needing to talk a certain way when I spoke to the press, so we practiced getting rid of my twang so I wouldn’t come across as a hick.” Another reason why I love living on the farm. Nobody here gives a damn how I talk.

My face burns with that admission. Brady must sense my humiliation because he tugs me closer until I’m fully wrapped in his arms. “They sound like *s.”

I laugh. “Yeah. Well, it got worse.” Biting my lip, I wonder how much Brady wants to hear.

He leans down and kisses my forehead. “Babe, you don’t have to tell me if you really don’t want to.”

That’s just it. I want to tell him. I want him to know what happened, but I’m worried it’s too much. That we’re crossing a line.

Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I whisper, “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you. It’s that you’re leaving… and I’m worried this is more personal than you really want to hear. Most guys don’t want to hear about ex-boyfriends.”

A deep sigh leaves him. “Truth?” He studies my face, and I nod. “I want to know everything about you, Kat. I know we should have some boundaries, but I’m having a hard time pulling back.”

My heart thumps wildly in my chest. There it is again. Hope.

And the million-dollar question raises its ugly head. Would he stay if he loved me?

I decide to throw caution to the wind. Because yes, Brady makes me want to take risks. And I’ll share this with him if it means even the slightest chance of changing things between us and making us more permanent somehow.

But I don’t get the chance because Brady squeezes his eyes shut. “I’m sorry,” he grits out. “You’re right. Let’s not do this.”