He shrugged and settled into the chair beside me, close enough that our knees almost touched. “Welcome to life with Celine. She gets an idea, and suddenly it’s everyone’s reality.”
“Like this trip?”
He chuckled fondly. “Exactly like this trip.”
I shifted to face him fully. “The condo is a bad idea, Wyatt.”
While his overall expression didn’t change, his eyes cooled fractionally. If I hadn’t been studying him, looking for his reaction, I would have missed it.
“Why?”
“It’ll invite questions about why we spend so much time together,” I explained, though by now I shouldn’t have to. “Why I’m always around.”
“You’re my chief strategist and my best friend.”
“Who spends more time with you than your soon-to-be wife? Who has suddenly moved in next door to you?”
“You’re being paranoid again.” He leaned back, his arms braced behind his head, the very picture of relaxation.
As if my concerns were amusing rather than valid.
“If you really have plans to make it to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, we need to be more discreet.”
Wyatt studied me for a long moment, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he was trying to figure out if this was his lover or his advisor speaking.
“So what do you suggest?”
I pulled in a fortifying breath, knowing I was about to say something that couldn’t be taken back. Something he definitely wasn’t going to like hearing.
“After the wedding, we should spend less time together. Keep things strictly professional.”
If I was being honest with myself, this wasn’t just about his political future. I needed distance, too. Time away from this strange, twisted arrangement we had.
Wyatt’s jaw tightened. “You want to dial this back?”
I nodded. “It’s what makes sense.”
He lifted his shoulder, his voice deceptively casual. “Sure, we can do that. But I don’t think that’sreallywhat you want, Sebastian.”
He dropped his arms and leaned forward, turning his head, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that used to make my breath catch.
“Can you honestly sit here and tell me you won’t miss this?” He cupped himself crudely over his swim trunks. “Or is it thatyou think you can find someone else who knows exactly what you need? Someone you can trust not to sell you out?”
I swallowed hard, my mouth going dry.
The thought of navigating apps or cruising bars where someone might recognize me, where one screenshot could destroy me …
No, I couldn’t tell him that, and he knew it.
In fact, he was counting on it.
Wyatt’s lips curved into that same predatory smile—he knew he had me. He pushed to his feet, holding out his hand. “Come on. Let’s go upstairs where I can remind you just how badly you need me.”
On the elevator, Wyatt stood close—too close—a hand resting on my lower back, his finger drawing circles on my sun-warmed skin.
I shifted sideways to break contact, but he crowded back into my space as the numbers above the doors dinged with each floor we passed.
“You’ll do the right thing,” he murmured, his lips brushing my temple. “You always do.”
