And now, here I am again, burying myself even deeper in something that will consume me. I love public service, but I don’t even remember what it was like to do something just for me. Just because I wanted to. I haven’t had that luxury in so long.
“You just now realized you’re rooting for the wrong team, didn’t you?” a deep, amused voice says next to me.
I look up, and my heart skips when I see Jude. He’s wearing dark, worn-in jeans and a black T-shirt that hugs his biceps.
“What, my hat?” I ask him. “You’re a Sox fan?”
He nods. “Southside all the way, baby.”
My heart flutters again as I imagine what it would be like to actually be called that by him. I’ve never had a relationship that wasn’t in the public eye. Every man I dated had to meet with my father’s approval, and that usually meant they or their family were connected in the Democratic Party.
“I’m not surprised,” I say with a smile. “We’re polar opposites in every way, you and I.”
“May I?” he asks, gesturing at the open seat next to me on the bench.
“Why not? I already feel like shit. I’ll actually be impressed if you can make me feel any worse, Titan.”
He sits down, and I immediately feel the warmth of his body next to mine.
“You feel like shit because you’re so attracted to me,” he says. “A Southsideranda Republican. That’s gotta hurt. But I won’t tell anyone.”
I roll my eyes but can’t help smiling. “I don’t find cockiness appealing.”
“It’s not cocky if you can back it up.”
“Oh, and you can back it up?”
He inclines his head toward his campaign bus. “Wanna find out?”
“You’re just trying to get under my skin.”
He bumps his large shoulder against me lightly. “What’s on your mind, Reagan? I promise it’ll stay between us.”
I sigh deeply before looking over and up into his dark eyes. “The pressure. It’s hard sometimes.”
“Yeah, I’m starting to see how intense it is. You make it look easy, though.”
I laugh lightly. “That’s because I have no life. This—” I gesture at the lot our buses are parked in “—is all I have.”
“You’re more accomplished than any woman I’ve ever known,” Jude says.
I look up at him with my brows drawn together, waiting for the punch line. But his expression is sincere.
“I am?”
“Yeah.” He looks at his hands, clasped in front of him as his elbows rest on his knees. “You know, I’ve felt pressure, too. When I was in combat. It’s fucking intense, knowing other people’s lives hinge on your actions.”
“That has to be the most intense pressure of all.”
“I deal with pressure by making a list,” he says.
“A list?”
He nods. “If I was in combat, I’d think of the next four or five things I needed to focus on. Put ’em in order. It helps relax me to focus on what I can control.”
“I can see that.”
“You’ll have it all one day, Reagan,” he says. “Everything you’re missing right now. You’ll have it all.”
