Page 111 of The Rebel King

In the quiet after her departure, I flip through the various articles and insulting headlines.

“My father called today,” I say. “He wanted to make sure I was okay.”

Maxim takes the seat across from me.

“He got into an argument with a colleague at work,” I continue tonelessly. “The professor apparently had not-so-nice things to say about me, not realizing I was Dr. Hunter’s daughter. He and Dad almost came to blows. He didn’t tell me that part. Bethany did.”

Maxim releases a sharp breath and reaches for my hand. “Nix, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” I shake my head and push my hair back. “I knew this would happen.”

“I’m not just apologizing for the fallout,” he says. “I’m apologizing for what happened before all of this, on the bus.”

I pause, flicking an uncertain glance up at him. It was almost easy to forget the volatile conversation we’d had before the press descended. I force a laugh. “Let me deal with one crisis at a time, okay?”

“Me asking you to marry me is a crisis?” He asks the question lightly, but I know him too well not to hear, not tofeelthe hurt behind it. I saw it in his eyes on the bus, too.

“When you asked,” I start, meting out each word carefully, not wanting to do any more damage than I already have, “for just a second, it was scary how badly I wanted to be your wife.Yeswas right there on the tip of my tongue. My heart wanted it immediately, but my head started asking, how would this work? How would I advocate so hard, so openly for Native issues when you’d have to beeveryone’spresident? And what would we say when they call me biased? Or I take a stance that you don’t agree with or that doesn’t align with your policies? A first lady doesn’t usually haveopinions—at least, not that she voices. She has ahusband, and her voice is swallowed by his.”

He’s quiet because he knows I’m right. His gaze is fixed on his thumb caressing the back of my hand.

“I’ve worked really hard to become myself, Maxim,” I say softly. “To know what I believe, to live out my convictions, and to say what I think. I just want to make sure I wouldn’t be losing all of that, losingmyselfin you and all that being the president requires.”

A single hot tear slips over my cheek, and I brush at it with the hand he’s not holding. “I saw the way Salina looked at you in those pictures.”

He lifts his eyes to my face even though I don’t meet them.

“She’s a lawyer, like Millie. Attended Cornell and is a badass in her own right,” I say, “but I bet she wouldn’t think twice about giving it all up to be your first lady. I saw that in Millie for Owen, too. Hell, I see it in Mena for Jim. She loves being a senator’s wife. It’s enoughfor her. A part of me wishes I could be like that—so willing to see my dreams absorbed by yours.”

He lifts my chin with his finger, forcing me to look at him. “Do you remember what you said in your speech that first day we met?”

I frown, sniff, and concentrate. “Um…which part?”

“You said, ‘Do you see me? Do you hear me? I don’t think you can,’ but Ididright away. I knew who you were, Lennix, before we even met. When I saw that dog headed for you, I didn’t think about the fact that we didn’t know each other. I didn’t care what my father thought. There was notimeto think. I couldn’t have put words to it in that moment, but on some level, I knew who you were, and I knew you were mine.”

I nod because I wasn’t old enough to understand the connection between us that first day; maybe not even in Amsterdam did I fully grasp what it meant to meet the other half of your soul, but I know now.

“I’m sorry for not listening to you on the bus,” he says. “I wasn’t hearing you. I think I was afraid to hear what you needed to tell me.”

He gestures to the iPad on the table between us. “Those headlines aren’t real. The articles aren’t real.Weknow what’s real. I still very much want to marry you one day, and if this crazy plan of ours works, I’ll be the president, but we can table marriage until you’re ready.”

I look at him, searching his face. That’s all I want, time to make sure I’ll be satisfied with the person that role will require me to be, but I know what it costs Maxim to give me that time. He’s a generous man, but when he wants something, he takes. He wants me more than everything, so this is hard for him.

“Are you sure?” I ask.

“That day in my office with Chuck Garrett was one of the best moments of my life, hearing how you saw me. I want you to know that I seeyou, Lennix. You said run him as a rebel. If an independent finally manages to upend the two-party system and win thepresidency, don’t expect me to play by all the rules, including how my wife functions.”

“Doc—”

“I believe we could blaze our own trail.” The look on his face, in his eyes is passion and intensity and confidence and love. “I know you’d marryme. I’m giving you time to decide if you want to marry the president.”

CHAPTER 49

MAXIM

“You sure about this?” Kimba asks for what feels like the hundredth time.

“Yeah.” I check my tie in the greenroom mirror and stuff it into the vest of my three-piece suit. “Positive.”

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