Page 45 of Bi-Partisan

And he just smiles and pats my hand. “I know, baby.”

The second it’s out of his mouth, his hand freezes on top of mine. He hasn’t called me that since That Night, and the way the word washes over me threatens to make me melt just like it did then, even though the low, seductive tone isn’t there. There’s just warmth and fondness, which instead makes me feel a little fuzzy. But despite his calm exterior, I can tell he’s internally freaking out. So I smile and carefully flip my hand to interlace our fingers.

And if my stomach does a little dance when he relaxes into my side and squeezes my hand, that’s nobody’s business.

Chapter 15

Adrian

Song: People Watching – Conan Gray

I shut the door to my apartment with one last wave goodbye, then let out a small breath of relief. I had a surprisingly great night despite the anxiety I had going into it. But it was still a lot of socializing and attention focused on me at once, so I’m looking forward to going into hermit mode to recover. Although, that will have to wait a little longer since technically I’m not completely alone yet.

Jamie is still here, having offered to stay behind to help me clean up when Mina said she would walk to the metro with Sophie and Casey. When I turn back around, he’s standing a couple feet away, hands in his pockets.

“Doing alright, darlin’?” he asks. When I cock my head in question, he adds, “You’re looking a little tired.”

“I’m always a little drained after socializing, but I’m fine,” I say.

He smiles gently. “Did you have a good night, though?”

Returning his smile, I nod. “Did you?”

“Amazing. I loved getting to know Sophie and Casey. They seem like great friends,” he says, taking a few steps toward me.

“So does Mina. It seemed like she and Sophie really hit it off.”

“It’s almost a little scary how well they got along,” he says with a laugh. “Do you think your parents liked me?”

I’m a little surprised at the question, the hesitation in his voice as he asks it. “They adored you,” I say honestly.

It’s not even a guess. My mom told me as much as they were leaving—this time in an actual whisper, unlike her earlier stage whisper when she commented on Jamie bringing me flowers. It’s not surprising. He was extra charming tonight. I don’t know how I feel about it, though, seeing as our “relationship” has an expiration date. It would be easier to tell them our eventual breakup if they didn’t like him.

“Good,” he says with a sigh of relief. “I liked them too. I loved hearing all about your childhood. Speaking of, I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me you lived in North Carolina for a little while.” He pulls a hand out of his pocket and playfully smacks my arm.

“I was six. I don’t really remember it,” I say, defensively crossing my arms over my chest.

“I’m just teasing you,” he says, resting a hand on my crossed forearms and squeezing. “So, what can I do to help clean up?”

There isn’t much to do, since we ordered takeout instead of cooking. It only takes about fifteen minutes to clean up the trash and leftovers, load the wine glasses and silverware in the dishwasher, and put the dining room chairs back where they belong. I could have easily done it by myself, but Jamie insisted on staying behind to help. If my parents were still here when he made the offer, I would have thought it was to sell us being a real couple. But by then, it was just Casey, Sophie, and Mina. There was no reason to keep up pretenses, yet he wanted to stay anyway. It was like he wanted an excuse to be alone with me, which makes this whole arrangement feel a little too close to real for comfort.

Once we’re done, the reality of this being the first time I’ve seen him in person since the day I met him for lunch at his office fully hits me. It feels so different in comparison. Then, things had been stiff and awkward. Neither of us really knew how to act around each other under circumstances so vastly different from the ones we first met under. Now, there’s a comfortability between us, which is a little terrifying. I’ve never had that with anyone—or at least anyone I’m attracted to. And I am still attracted to him. I mean, it’s kind of hard not to be. He’s beautiful, almost more so now that I know him better—now that I know his favorite season is winter, especially in DC because there’s actually snow, even though it rarely sticks, and that The West Wing and New Girl are his comfort shows.

“Thank you for your help,” I say as we walk back into the living room.

“Of course,” he says, turning back to me with his hands in his pockets again. “Although, I should probably admit that I had an ulterior motive to staying behind.”

My stomach sinks. Oh God, what could he want?

Before I can ask, he continues. “I have a present of sorts for you, but I didn’t want to give it to you in front of everyone.”

I frown, but all it does is earn a smirk. “I told you that you didn’t need to get me anything. The flowers were already more than enough, really.”

Where did he hide a present anyway? All he had when he came in was the bouquet of flowers.

“I know, but—” he shakes his head with a sigh. “Just sit, okay?”

Bracing myself, I make my way to the couch and sit. He follows, but before he sits, he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a folded sheet of paper.

---