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“I’m calling security.” She mashes the buttons on her phone.
“This is absurd. This isn’t going to go well for you if you don’t stop touching me.”
A familiar snicker pops up from across the studio. Then he screeches at her while I’m being shoved into the lobby.
“Yo! Stop shoving visitors. That one stays.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Day, I’m under strict instructions from Alex and Jeff.”
“Lady Girl, what’s happening? You never call me Mr. Day. Alex’s waiting on this person. And don’t shove our visitors.”
Mikey and I embrace. He says, “Back hallway, third door on the right. He’s waiting. Did ya hear that, girlie? He’s waiting. Come here. Tell Mr. Day all about what the hell is up with you?” I take off running.
His back is to the cracked door. My adrenaline is off the charts. It’s been eleven days since I’ve seen him and seven since a phone call that lasted more than a minute. One more night and then, well, then I don’t know what, but we shift to something else.
My breath is shallow and uneven. I’m shaking a bit. He hears me and looks up slightly from his legal pad without turning around.
“Jerrod, get the fuck out.” I wrap my arms around him and kiss his neck.
He jerks his neck away but doesn’t turn around. “Vanessa, stop. I told you, we’re not doing this anymore. I don’t want this. I’m seeing someone.” My heart stops as he peels my arms away, forcefully. I can’t believe he said that.
Words gush from my mouth, “That’s lovely to hear.”
He turns around like a shot. “Holy shit, you got here fast. Oh, my God.” His notebook and iPad drop to the floor as he pulls me up into a tight embrace. “How are you here? In my office. In my DC office. In my arms.” His words are gushing from him too. He’s barely taken a breath since he looked at me. He’s covering the top of my head with kisses, and I’m fighting happy tears. The pop of energy crackles between us, and it makes me want to snap his pants off.
He says, “How did you get here so fast? The beltway’s a mess, I checked. The stream begins in like forty-five minutes. The first polls close soon. I can’t look at anymore exit poll information. It’s all bullshit. I’m freaked out and stressed, but happy you’re here.”
“Fast train. And shh. Kiss me.”
36
Alex
I rush to her lips. We tentatively invade each other’s mouths, unsure of our connection. The kiss amps up as I twist my hands down to her ass. Hers move to my hair. Her nails feel so fucking good on my scalp. I’m relaxed for the first time in eleven days. She realizes my hair is a mess now, and she suddenly pulls back her hand.
“It’s ok. Someone will fix it.” I laugh. “Thanks for coming. That was the longest eleven days of my sexual life. I missed these lips, but I missed this more.” I pull her to me. I’m raw and real and can’t hide from her at this moment. “Most people don’t notice when their relationships grow deeper. It happens gradually. We have a defined turning point on our shared Google calendar. Today is our turning point, and although I’m terrified, well, I missed you. All of you.”
I look into her eyes, and they’re filled pools of azure blue. She blinks, and the tears run down her cheek. I cherish that I’m the one that can sweep them from her face. She kisses me softly and nods. I’m running my hands up and down her arms. She’s in jeans and a white fuzzy sweater. Her eyes are blazingly blue and full of wonder, looking at me.
“Vanessa busy tonight?”
Oh shit. I don’t really need to explain that tonight. “I’m so stressed. Don’t joke. Don’t tease. And I’ll tell you all about her later.”
“No worries. Truly. Just try and relax. I don’t care who you had sex with before me. Now, you have forty-five minutes until the Livestream. That’s plenty of time.”
“I know. And we do stuff like this all the time. I’m not sure why I’m so freaked.”
“We’re all freaked about elections these days. But you’ve made a career of it, so it means a bit more, I’m sure.”
I pull her close and stare into her eyes. “How is it you can read me so well? Isn’t that a longevity skill you work towards in a relationship?” She kisses me, this time dropping her lip below mine. I love it when she does that. “My merch looks sexy on you.”
She’s wearing a baseball hat I designed backward. It could be the cutest and sexiest she’s ever looked. She backs up and lifts her sweater, and instead of getting a glimpse of lingerie, I’m treated to a t-shirt that says, “Team Alex.” It was a promo thing we did last year to fundraise. Whoever sold the most shirts got all the money for their charity. Fucking Jeff won by like nine shirts.
“Old school fan.” I pull her back to me.
“Told ya. Can you answer a couple of questions for me?”
“Nothing with lasting impact.” I don’t have the bandwidth to process anything.
