Page 104 of Where There's Smoke

We said our good-byes, parting ways with our customary promise to see each other whenever we were in the same town again. He strolled across the street to his car, and we waved one more time before he drove off.

I waited until he was out of sight before I pulled out my pack and lighter. It wasn’t at all below him to slam on the brakes, turn around, and pull up to the curb to scold me for smoking so heavily. But he was gone now, so, alone with my thoughts and running on autopilot, I smoked another cigarette. Almost had a third but decided that would be too close to chain-smoking. Eventually I went upstairs to my empty hotel room. I tossed my wallet and room key on the table beside my laptop case and sat on the edge of the bed.

There were poll results and data to go over, but I didn’t even try. I couldn’t concentrate. All I could do was compare Jesse and Slade in my head. Not how they were as partners—much as I still loved him, Slade didn’t hold a candle to Jesse—but how our relationships played out.

Slade and I had kept things quiet from my family and colleagues, but there’d never been any outside pressure forcing us to keep it a secret or face irreversible consequences. Our relationship was dead and buried, but there were things about it I missed. I wanted to be with someone I could banter and flirt and drink with in public. I didn’t want to have to watch my every move, think about every fucking word, watch for cameras, watch for eavesdroppers. I wanted something sane and normal and…

Fuck, what did it matter? Slade was right. I put up with a lot to be with Jesse. Yeah, that crap was frustrating, and when I was alone like this, it was easy to tell myself what I should do about it, just like it was easy to tell myself all the very real reasons why Jesse and I shouldn’t do this. But what happened every time we were breathing the same air again? Any resolve I had collapsed.It wasn’t even a matter of telling myself I’d just enjoy this one last time andnexttime I’d end it like I should. One look at Jesse and I didn’t give a fuck.

Yes, our relationship was a hassle and a headache.

But like no other relationship I’d ever had, it was worth it.

Which begged the question, why the fuck was I sitting alone in my hotel room?

I looked around, searching for a convincing visual alibi to tell anyone who saw me that I had a legitimate, professional reason to go into Jesse’s hotel room this time of night. There was no shortage of reasons and alibis; campaign managers and candidates always burned the midnight oil together even when theyweren’tfucking.

I tucked a stack of file folders under my arm, picked up a couple of thick binders, and left the room. I walked casually but quickly down the hall to Jesse’s room and knocked.

Ranya answered. She clicked her tongue and sighed dramatically. “Oh. It’syou.” Then she winked and pulled the door all the way open. “Jesse, boss man’s here.”

“At this hour?”

I was about to make a smart-ass comment likeIs that a problem?but as I stepped into the room, I realized why his PA had answered the door for him. Though there weren’t many people who’d come knocking this late at night, it was just as well he didn’t throw open the door to his room when he was dressed only in a pair of jeans. Seeing him like that—reclined on the bed with one hand behind his head and a beer in the other, bare feet crossed at the ankles and not a damn thing covering those smooth, flat abs—almost made me drop my folders and binders.

He raised his eyebrows. “Please tell me you’re not coming in here with bad news at this hour.”

I laughed, which got my breath moving. “No, no.” I put the books on the table with a heavy thud. “Just some shit we need to go over, and tomorrow’s going to be a busy one.”

“Fuck,” he muttered into his beer bottle and took a long swallow.

“Well, if you boys are going to go over that crap,” Ranya said, “I’m going to call it a night.”

I snickered. “You don’t want to stay and discuss poll results?”

“I’d rather clip my grandfather’s toenails with my teeth.” She clicked off the movie they’d been watching. “You boys have fun, though. I’m going to go get some sleep, assuming all this coffee doesn’t keep me up until Armageddon.”

“Well, if you need help getting to sleep”—I held up one of the binders—“we could probably knock you out with one of these.”

She raised an eyebrow. “With the content? Or as a blunt object?”

I looked at the binder in my hand and laughed. “I meant the content.”

“Sure you did.” She pointed at me, her bracelets jingling with the sharp gesture. “I’m watching you, Hunter.”

“Color me scared,” I said.

She shot me what was probably supposed to be a menacing look, but then giggled. “All right. Good night, boys.”

“Good night,” Jesse and I both said.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind her, Jesse set his beer bottle on the nightstand and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He swallowed hard. “So, um, how was your evening with Slade?” His voice was devoid of suspicion or jealousy. If anything, it held a note of uncertainty. Maybe even barely cooled panic, like he’d sensed an intruder and wondered how much danger that intruder posed.

“Not bad,” I said. “Always good to catch up with an old friend.”

Jesse’s eyebrow rose almost imperceptibly.

I dropped my gaze. “Okay, an ex-boyfriend.”

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