Chapter 13 Olivia
Olivia
“What am I doing?” I mutter to myself on repeat for the two-floor elevator ride.
I should head down to one of the hotel restaurants solo until Aubrey’s done hooking up with Jerry, Justin, Jon…
whatever J-name guy she’s fucking right now.
It’s my fault. Admittedly, I’m a little jealous and also a dumbass for heading up to my ex-boyfriend’s suite for… what?
Nothing. It has to be nothing. I didn’t even alert Wes that I was done with dinner, so Isaac and I will have a drink, maybe reminisce about college, and that’ll be it. I’ll check in with Wes and go to bed.
The end.
The elevator doors open, and I shake out my hands, straightening my posture as I exit, grateful his room is tucked away to the right and close to the elevator if I need to bail.
With my hand poised to knock, I take a deep breath, reminding myself that this is just two friends having a drink together—nothing more.
I wouldn’t be surprised if someone from his security team answers.
Part of me hopes Todd is here to ensure I don’t do something reckless after a couple of drinks.
At the rap of my knuckles, the door swings open, and I try not to laugh, knowing damn well he was watching through the peephole for my arrival.
My pulse is ringing in my ears as I quickly step in without greeting.
All of this is dangerous. I’ve always felt safe with Isaac, but this isn’t about safety; it’s about protecting myself from falling for him again.
While we were at dinner, it was a struggle to not flirt or even hint at there being any sort of romantic connection between us.
It’s always been there, always will be. One photo could ruin both of us.
Here? There are no cameras. No one saw me.
And we’re alone.
“Hey,” I breathe, my back pressed against the wall beside the door. “Where’s Todd?”
“Next door. I told him you’d be coming.”
Isaac’s gaze falls to my lips, and part of me wants him to close the distance, to bring me in for a passionate kiss I’ve been craving for years.
But it wouldn’t even begin to scratch the surface of what, deep down, I want him to do to me.
The other part of me—she’s practical. Sure, Isaac and I have had our moments of sporadic, toe-the-line flirting over the past couple of months; we've always had a spark. It’s not in my head, especially with his vague declarations after the election.
We’ve been careful, or at least I have, about anything in writing.
The text messages tonight were risky, and Aubrey will likely give me shit about it in the morning.
My words tumble from me. “Maybe I shouldn’t be here.”
“Probably not.” Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he lowers his head, lightly chuckling to himself. As his eyes meet mine again, there’s a sadness in them that spears my heart. “But stay for one drink?”
I chew on my lip, accidentally drawing his attention to them again.
“I’m sorry. This is…” He takes a step closer, then another, leaving mere inches between us.
As he places his hand on the wall just above my head, he leans in, and there’s nowhere to run—he caught me, just like he used to.
“You have to see what a bad idea this is.”
“The worst.”
Tucking a rogue lock of hair behind my ear, his fingers linger.
For a moment, I nearly forget I’m in the suite of the Canadian Prime Minister, forget I’m a newly sworn-in Governor, or that we’re here to celebrate the reelection of a two-woman, two-party administration.
Right now, it’s just two people who can never be together.
It’s selfish to consider anything more than a drink, but I’ve never wanted anyone more than I want Isaac.
What if, for one night, we can forget about titles—forget about fucking politics?
What if I let myself give in? Let us have a moment where the world around us doesn’t exist?
Westley and Todd can ensure no one sees who comes in or out of this room. It’s not impossible.
But would one night be enough?
Probably not.
“What are we doing?” My question comes out more breathless than I’d like. It doesn’t help that I know the answer or that I’ve never recovered from the last time we were alone like this.
“I’m not sure, Livy, but all I’ve ever wanted was you—any way I can have you.” His words heal and break me at the same time. “Stay with me?”
My reply slips from me without thought, “Okay.”
Framed by my favorite glasses, his eyes darken, making mine widen. He leans in closer, our lips a mere breath apart. No matter how much I want a taste of him, I press my palms to his shoulders, pushing him back an inch to check in. “If anyone found out about this, we’d both be—”
“You’re right.” Isaac steps back, and I immediately miss him in my space. We haven’t even moved away from the door, and if he truly wants to keep this secret, we need to be more careful.
I quickly duck under his arm and make a beeline for the dining table.
Turning to face him, I brace myself by gripping the edge of it.
He approaches with caution, and when he’s only inches from me again, I carefully remove his glasses and set them on the table.
“I thought I warned you about wearing these.”
Isaac lifts me onto the wood and, unfortunately, this probably won’t end like any fantasy I touched myself to where he’ll lay me down and feast on me. It’s probably for the best, or at least that’s what I tell myself.
Gliding his fingers into my hair, he rests his thumb on my cheek and sighs. “What do you really want, Olivia?”
“You,” I admit. “But this is a terrible idea, not only because of my political career. It would emotionally destroy me.” Covering his hand with mine, I can’t help leaning into his touch.
“We aren’t the same people we were all those years ago.
In a few days, when you’re back in Canada and I’m back in California, then what? ”
“We both know that no matter how hard we pretend, we’re not friends and never will be. It doesn’t matter where I am. I’ve always been yours. Always will be. I won’t lie to you and tell you this wasn’t my plan since November.”
“Your plan?
“Yeah,” he chuckles, “my plan. I want you back, Livy. It may take time, but I’m a patient man.”
Tears threaten behind my eyes, but I keep them at bay. “You’re you and I’m me. How the hell would that work?”
“I don’t know yet, but I have faith that it will. If I have any say in it, you and I are going to spend the rest of our lives together. Tonight, I don’t care what we do. I just want you close, where I don’t have to mask how I feel about you.”
“So, you didn’t invite me here to…”
“To fuck you?”
I bark a laugh. “I was going to say, ‘just have a drink.’”
“No,” he sighs, pressing a kiss to my forehead.
“It would never be just a drink. And as much as I’d love to take you on every surface of this room, filling you over and over until I can guarantee you’ll feel me all day tomorrow, your comfort is more important than anything I want to do to you right now.
” I’m instantly wet at his suggestion, my heart racing in anticipation.
He takes a step back, hands half-raised in playful surrender, and a whimper escapes me.
“No matter how much I want you, I won’t touch you…
not until I know we’re both on the same page. ”
“Fuck,” I groan. “Why does this have to be so… complicated?”
He smirks, and one of my favorite little dimples pops. “I know, baby. Not a single day has passed that I haven’t fantasized about when we’d meet again. I just didn’t think it would be like this.”
“Really?” I hate how hopeful I sound, but I’ve done the same damn thing and I truly couldn’t care less that he knows. “How did you think we would meet again?”
“Well, sometimes it wasn’t even romantic.”
Well, if that wasn’t the equivalent of a record scratch, I don’t know what is.
My disappointment must be written all over my face, because his grin widens as he explains, “Sometimes I’d envision you’d be on a stage accepting an award.
Other times it was pure happenstance, running into each other on the street.
.. But never did I imagine the first time I saw the love of my life again that she’d be taking a seat next to me at a sports bar the night before a presidential inauguration, and I couldn’t even touch her. ”
My eyes now sting with my unshed tears from him calling me the love of his life, and I do my best to keep my voice even. “Yet here we are.”
“Here we are,” he echoes, huffing a small laugh. “So, for now, just spending time together is enough, even if I want more.”
“What if I also want more?”
Isaac swallows thickly, then draws his lips briefly into his mouth to wet them as he contemplates his reply.
Before he can, I blurt, “What if, for one night, you aren’t Isaac Banks and I’m not Olivia Harris?
” I slip off my heels, kicking them aside, then make a show of taking down my hair, tossing it like a damn shampoo commercial.
If that isn’t the universal sign for “please fuck me,” I don’t know what is.
The intensity coming from his aura is scorching, and I’m helplessly drawn to it.
So long as I keep my heart guarded, I can let loose tonight like Aubrey did.
Oh, the lies I tell myself.
He doesn’t take the bait. “I didn’t wait years for you to throw it away.
The next time I touch you, it’ll be because you’re mine.
Not just tonight. Not just this weekend.
I need to know this is real outside of these walls, this suite…
Hell, this fucking city. I need to know I’m not just another Jonathan. ”
“Jonathan?”
“Or whatever name the bartender gave Aubrey.” He shrugs, and I couldn’t be more grateful for the heaviness to be lifted.
Sighing to myself, I muse, “I knew it was a J-name.”
When I told her that she should date different guys than she’s been typically seeing, I never expected this one-eighty with a one-night stand. Then again, I too need to get laid; it’s been entirely too long.
“I have an idea. You don’t want to be you. Right? And right now, I sure as hell don’t want to be me.” Isaac drops to one knee, making me gasp. He lets me squirm as he takes his time retrieving my shoes. “Don’t worry, I’m not proposing. Not yet, at least.”
“What?” I screech.
“You heard me. I warned you before—you’ll be my wife one day.
” Without skipping a beat, he slips on one of my heels as he continues, “But for now, you’re going to make your way downstairs to one of the restaurants or bars.
Remember that little game we used to play in the library in college?
” I reply with a nod. “Just like that, except you’ll order whatever the hell you want from a bartender or waiter for the next thirty minutes.
Mozzarella sticks? Margarita? Nachos you’ll never be able to finish?
Go for it.” He slips the other heel on. “Take your time and charge it to my room. In twenty, I’ll come looking for you, and if I haven’t found you, then you’ll have my room for the night solo while Aubrey enjoys an evening of fun with her bartender. I’ll crash with someone on my staff.”
He stands, holding a keycard between his fingers. My pulse quickens, remembering how he always found me between the stacks. It’s still a mystery how we never got caught or kicked out of the library for him fingering me in a dark corner or fucking me in the bathroom.
Thrill shoots through me, and the only question I can muster is, “And if you do find me?”
Glancing to the bed behind him, then back to me, my favorite dimples appear again. “Then you’re staying with me tonight.”
“With you? In the same bed?” I ask hopefully.
“Have you already forgotten that I’m not going to touch you unless I know you’re mine again? In a few days, the best I’ll get is falling asleep on the phone together. I’ll spend the night with you, but only if I catch you.”
“The inauguration is tomorrow,” I sigh, hating how everything could be so different if things were, well, different. “Won’t someone suspect something when I leave in the morning?”
“Your security and mine will handle the details.” He tinkers with his smart watch. “Twenty-nine minutes, Governor Harris.”
A shiver cascades down my spine, making my nipples pebble. He wants a chase, but I have every intention of getting caught.
What will happen when he does catch me? Would he lose control and we can finally be done with this charade?
Do I want him to? Fuck, yes, I want him to.
Can I truly handle spending the night with him? Probably not.
“How is that fair?” I quirk an eyebrow. “You want me to, what, sprint to the elevator, and run into a random bar in hopes that you won’t find me?”
“Maybe it’s time we both live a little.” Isaac takes three steps back. “You’re burning precious time.”
“Shit,” I squeal, and snatch up my purse I must’ve left on the ground by the entry in my lust-filled haze.
My options are few but important. One: head back to my room and demand Audrey’s little fucktoy bails.
Two: do as Isaac suggested and find a restaurant for half an hour.
Or—my personal favorite—three: order nachos and margaritas, get caught on purpose, and after we share a late-night snack, I end up in his bed with his stupidly handsome face between my thighs.
As I’m about to open the door, he stops me, wrapping his arm around my middle to pull me to him. My breath catches. “Be safe. Be careful,” he warns, and my whole body is on fire being this close to him.
We can play this little game, maybe even sleep together, but in no universe could I truly be his in the end.
For one night, I want to pretend.
Opening the door, he presses a soft kiss to my neck before I walk out.
I check to ensure no one is in the hall, then turn back to Isaac.
Something snaps in me. We’re both well aware of what I called him when I was half asleep on the phone a couple of months ago.
It’s time I take it for a test drive while we’re both sober and there’s no melatonin in sight.
“Twenty minutes, Daddy.”