The brush stops in my hair and I close my eyes, trying to block out the sight of blood, of darkness, of Magnus’s dead body against the wall… But a loud squeal sounds from downstairs, getting my attention. The laughter flies to the first floor, up the stairs, then stifles when it reaches the door of the main bedroom.
Sterling’s muffled voice asks from the hallway, “Can we come in?” I can hear Cam giggling by her side.
“Yes, of course.” I smile and leave my hairbrush on the counter in the en-suite bathroom, accidentally catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I haven’t looked since I got back, and I almost asked Rowan if we could cover them up with sheets so this exact situation wouldn’t happen. But I didn’t do it, and now I get to stare into the eyes of the coward who left that man to die. I don’t get to dwell on what I see because my friends burst through the door, and I know I have to come out.
I put on my smile, shaking it off, and say, “What on earth are you doing here so early in the morning?” I ask this of Sterling, knowing full well she’s more of a night owl than an early riser. I then shift my eyes to Cam. “And you, don’t you have a country to dazzle with your…” I gesture aimlessly around her. “Awesomeness?”
“Please,” Cam scoffs. “If I give one more interview this week, I swear I’m going to say something really crazy. You know, like, let all my intrusive thoughts win.”
Sterling quirks a brow. “So this is you actingnormally?”
I cross my arms in front of me and sigh. Cam places her hand on her chest, a sign of false betrayal.
I’m so glad the two of them met. They hit it off really quickly, as I knew they would. Unfortunately for me, the First Lady and my notorious best friend have a lot of things in common. Lettingtheir intrusive thoughts win, for one. And being really, and I mean really, extroverted. An introvert’s dream.Yay.
Cam claps her hands. “You’re getting married!”
“I know that,” I drawl, sensing that there is more.
“So then you know what time it is…” They both grin at each other like two Cheshire cats.
I’m officially scared.
Cam walks behind me and places her hands on my shoulders as she sings, “Dress picking time! Yolanda, bring them in, honey!”
I mouth to Sterling, “Who the hell is Yolanda?” but she doesn’t see it—or she pretends not to see it. I’m sure she’s friends with Yolanda, too, by now. A clothing rack is rolled into the room. It overflows with an array of white fabric that shimmers and reflects the morning light filtering through the window. And it holds everything—from flowing lace trains to satin bodices and everything in between. At the other end of the rack is a short woman in her sixties with the softest eyes I’ve ever seen.
I gape, and the gaping turns into a breathy laugh as I say, “Cam… you didn’t have to.”
“I know it would’ve been more fun to hit the shops, but under the circumstances, Sterling and I figured it would be cool to raid Yolanda’s collection instead. She’s an artistic genius.”
I place my hand on the one she still has on my shoulder and look at Sterling, whom I find smiling at me.
“This is perfect. I… thank you, both of you.”
Like a bunch of teenage girls trying on makeup for the first time, all three of us start shifting through the hangers and picking dresses we place against our bodies in the mirror. Yolanda—who I found out is Cam’s stylist at the White House—helps me find the style that matches my body type, which makes choosing what dresses to try on a lot easier. They’re all so pretty.Only the soft knock against the door rame stops everything like a freeze frame.
“Get.Out!” Cam shouts, throwing a bunch of random fabric in Rowan’s direction. He pretends to dodge it with his hands out. “Don’t you know you can’t see the bride until she walks down the aisle?”
Pressing a dress against my body, I lift my gaze from the floor to see him. Butterflies come to life in my stomach almost instantly, my body tingling all the way to my fingertips. He’s wearing his official uniform today. He said he had some meetings at the White House. And right now… he’s leaning against the doorframe watching me. Only watching me.
“You do realize I’m going to see her in this bed tonight,beforethe wedding,” he tells her.
Cam sighs. “Kids these days consummate things before they even say ‘I love you.’”
Sterling shifts uncomfortably from her seat on the bed and stands up. She might be cool with everything, but I remember the first time I was in the same room with Cam, the president, and Rowan. It was overwhelming—I wouldn’t be surprised if it was a bit much for her, too. I give her a smile just to let her know she has nothing to worry about.
“Just came by to say I’m off. Text me if you need anything,” he says. And he says it so… naturally. Like this is the way it’s supposed to be. Like we’re going to be doing this… a lot. Working for something we both care about, fucking in the middle of the night, and kissing each other goodbye in the morning before our day starts. I nod, my face lighting up with love and emotion. And I think… I think I’d like to live through all of that.
He mouths silently, “I love you” just for me to see it. A private moment we both get to share in a room full of people. My mouth forms the shape of the words, much like a mirror reflecting them back to him.
“Begone now, Commander,” Cam says, rolling her eyes. “Go do your shady business, or whatever it is you’re doing today.”
Rowan quirks a brow. “Is that what you think I’m doing? At the White House? Really?”
“Last time you came over you asked me to prepare your poison, so who knows what you’re planning to do these days.” She gives him a knowing side look, as if she knows exactly what those plans are. Rowan holds her stare, and for a moment my heart stops, thinking he might suspect Cam and I have been in contact without him knowing. But he snorts, tapping his fingers against the door before exiting the room as quickly as he appeared. The girls and I continue our dress-picking frenzy, though my mind keeps going back to him, to whatever he’s doing out there today.
A few hours later, when I’m prepared to collapse on the couch with my laptop again, Saint comes in and tells me I have a visitor. Who could it be at this time in the evening? I straighten up and fix my hair with my hands as best I can before a soft voice sounds from the foyer.
