“Do you think Leo’s going to hate me for declaring?”
We’re in his home office. I’m sitting in the easy chair, reading for a little while, while Elliot kneels on the floor in front of me and rubs my feet. Elliot’s naked, except for his bracelet and his collar. I set my Kindle aside, lean forward, take his hands, and hold them tucked against my chest in a Leo way.
I know, I know, we need ourownthings, but I’ll take the shortcuts when I need to use them and be glad I have them.
“You have to run or not foryou, not for him, not for your parents, not for me. Elliot Woodley is the one who matters.”
“What if I don’t know what I want?”
In times like this, I ache for him. I’ve always had an internal compass. I might not have known the exact path to take, but I had a good guess at the general direction.
Elliot’s never had that. He’s always worked off faulty maps, because he keeps sabotaging himself. “Do you want me to call Leo tonight, talk to him, and tell him for you?”
I have programmed Leo’s work cell number into my work phone. I don’t have the same work cell number I had last time, but he’d be able to figure out who it belongs to, even if he doesn’t answer the call and I don’t leave a message. He would see the area code and prefix, make a guess, and could look it up in the government directory.
“Are you ready to talk to Leo?” he asks.
I shake my head. “Iwilltalk to him for you, though. If you need me to. I can’t manage your relationship with him, but I can and will buffer you from him, if that’s something you need me to do for you. I amyourSir first.”
“And his boy second?” His blue gaze studies me even as pain knifes through my soul.
“Maybe not even that,” I quietly say.
“He still loves you.”
“This isn’t about me—this is aboutyou.”
“He doesn’t want me to run.”
“He wants you to behappymore than anything.” I can say that with total honesty, because it’s something Leo’s told me many times in the past. Unless Leo’s thinking hard-shifted some time over the last six months. Which, I guess that’s possible, too.
“Am I self-sabotaging and trying to make Leo break up with me by not telling him so he gets pissed off? The way I thought he’d break up with me when I told him to date you, in the beginning? Or is it a loyalty test to see if he’ll stay by me after I don’t tell him? Or do I think I don’t deserve to be POTUS, so I’m trying to kneecap myself right out of the gate with an emotional entanglement I know I’m trying to make fail, even though I want it to work? Or is it something else?”
Wow, that’s alotto unpack.
Luckily, I don’t have to unpack it right now.
Instead, I kiss his hands. “I’m not a psychologist. But I happen to know a guy.” I smile, and finally, Elliot smiles back. “What doyouthink, boy?”
A ragged breath whooshes from him. “I don’t know, Sir.” He blinks away tears. “I really don’t know.”
