“No, you’re right. I didn’t even think of that because she’s on our team, but…yeah, you’re right.”
“You need to be like a pimple on my ass until election night,” I say. “We even need to be sharing a hotel room unless I’m with Reagan.”
“Yeah, okay. I’m not spooning you, though.” Tyson laughs weakly.
“No, you’re sure as fuck not. Now let’s get in there, and you can buy me lunch to make it up to me.”
He rolls his eyes. “When areyougonna buymelunch?”
“Tyson, if we win this, I’ll buy you a steak dinner.”
He muses, then nods. “I like steak.”
“And I like winning. So let’s figure out how to make us both happy.”
“Guess I need to sit in on the coms strategy meeting, huh?”
“Yeah. And every other meeting with her.”
He nods. “It’s kinda bullshit that hot chicks are only into you when you’re married, and I’m single.”
“You want her, go after her,” I tell him.
Tyson flushes a dark crimson. “I couldn’t…I mean…”
“Let’s go eat, man.” I clap him on the back. “You don’t have time for dating anyway.”
“True,” he grumbles. “I’d be happy with a shower right now.”
“As long as you don’t leave me alone with you know who to take one.”
“You mean…Voldemort?” He snorts at his attempt at a joke.
I remember the offended look on Vanessa’s face as I left the bus and decide that’s not a bad name for her at all. The stakes have gotten so high that most anyone could become the villain.
21
Reagan
I’m walkinginto my mom’s kitchen to pour another cup of coffee when I see the tears streaming down her face.
I stop breathing as I look at her. I can practically hear Jude speaking to me, his voice deep and even.
Be strong, Reagan. Be strong. Come what may, she needs you to be the strong one.
“What is it?” I ask her.
“I just got off the phone. My results came in, and…I’m okay.” She chokes out a sob. “It’s benign.”
I let out the breath I feel like I’ve been holding for nearly two weeks now, breaking into tears at the same time. She stands up, and we wrap our arms around each other.
The relief flows through my entire body. It’s physical, emotional—spiritual.
After a minute, my mom pulls away to grab a couple tissues. She passes me one, and I mop the tears from my cheeks.
“I need to call your sister,” she says, her shoulders dropping with relief. “And Ben.”
“Did you tell him?”
