Page 91 of Bi-Partisan

“That would be the serotonin,” I explain. “So, does your head feel clearer?”

“It does. I don’t know how long it will last, but it’s nice to feel a reprieve from the circus inside my head.”

“Don’t worry about later,” I tell him. “Just focus on this moment—how you feel right now.”

He nods against my shoulder. “Right now, I feel tired,” he says, then after a beat, “and thirsty.”

“I’ll get us some water, then we can sleep.” I carefully extract my arm from underneath him. “Do you want pajamas?”

“Can we sleep in just our underwear?” he asks. “I want to feel your skin against mine—see if it keeps me feeling all light like this.”

“Sure, I’ll get you a clean pair.”

“Thank you.” He catches my arm before I can climb out of bed. “And thank you for this—for being here. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

The statement makes my breath catch. Realistically, I know it’s probably just the oxytocin in his system making him say it. But even still, I find myself feeling the same way, and it’s more than a little terrifying.

Chapter 29

Adrian

Song: I Can’t Keep from Loving You – Andrew James

We’ve been in the conference room of his campaign office for the last hour going over last-minute prep before this evening’s debate. Well, Jamie and his staff have been prepping. I’ve been sitting in the corner watching and trying to keep my anxious energy under control.

The last thing I want is for Jamie to worry—which I know he would. Even though he understands that my anxiety can’t be fixed, it’s in his nature to want to help me manage it. It’s what he does—help people, put others’ needs before his own. So if he knew how frayed my nerves are right now, he’d push everything to the side to make sure I’m okay, even though he’s the one who needs support right now. Him needing support is the entire reason I’m here. My entire goal was to help him carry his stress, which I’m sure is a contributing factor to my own anxiety level. Like Ben Wyatt for Leslie in Parks and Rec, I Sham-Wowed Jamie’s stress last night, but there’s no one to wring me out, so I’m just holding onto it.

I think it will be worth it, though, because he actually seems okay right now, especially compared to how he was last night. His frantic energy is gone, replaced with a calm competence that would probably turn me on like crazy if I weren’t trying so hard not to vibrate out of my skin. Which is probably for the best, anyway, seeing as his parents arrived ten minutes ago to wish him good luck. They’re also staying to watch the live feed of the debate with me and the members of his staff not going to the news station with him—another reason I’m on edge. This will only be the second time I’ve met them, and this time I’m braving it alone, without Jamie as a buffer. I won’t even have Mina because she’s going with him.

“Alright, sir, we need to get going if we want enough time for you to get in the zone before you need to be on set,” Mina says, looking at her watch.

Jamie nods and steps out from behind the practice podium. He looks at me, something he’s been doing pretty frequently over the last hour, and I do my best to give him an encouraging smile. Then, his chief of staff pulls his attention from me.

“How are you feeling, sir?” Ben asks.

Jamie takes a deep breath, then lets it out. “I feel good. Ready.”

Ben nods once. “Good. You sound ready. Whatever you did between last night and now to get you your confidence back, keep it up.”

Jamie nods, then turns toward his parents.

“Kick his ass, sweetheart,” Shelia says before pulling him into a hug.

Paul rests a hand on his shoulder while his mom still has her arms wrapped around his waist. “You’ve got this, kiddo.”

“Thanks, Mom. Thanks, Dad.” He pulls away, then looks around at the rest of his staff for a moment.

Daniel just gives him a thumbs up, while Riley wishes him good luck. Then Mina is at his side again.

“I just need a minute,” he tells her, then he looks at me and nods his head toward the door leading to the bullpen.

With a nod, I walk out, him on my heels. I feel his hand on my back as he leads me to the office kitchen slash break room to get away from prying eyes.

“How are you doing?” I reach forward and take one of his hands, giving it a squeeze. “How’s your reflux?”

“Good. The reflux has settled a bit since this morning,” he says, and it sounds genuine.

“And do you really feel ready, or were you just saying that to Ben?”

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