Page 89 of Power Surge

I don’t have to do this alone.

I slow my steps until I’m standing still in the hallway. The thin rubber of my flip-flops twists beneath my toes as I turn and race back to his room. Throwing the door open wide, I leap onto his retreating back, wrapping my legs around his waist and my arms around his shoulders.

“Ask me again,” I beg out of breath. “Ask me again, Trey. Right here, right now, ask me again.”

Chin to his shoulder, he attempts to face me. Leaning forward, I press my cheek to his.

“Ask me,” I whisper.

“Marry me,” he murmurs. “Fucking marry me, Mess.”

“Yes,” I say on a choked sob. “Yes, I'll fucking marry you.”

My squeal bounces off the walls as he somehow untangles my legs and arms and swings me around. Our lips clash, tongues dancing like we're suffocating and the other is the life-sustaining air we need. His hands roam up and down my back, my own scraping along his scalp.

A throat clearing breaks the spell we fell into.

“Tomorrow.” My swollen lips slide against his. “I'll call a press conference to announce us, plus my decision for running next year, and then I want you to move into the White House with me.” My breaths come fast with the excitement racing through my veins. “I never want to fall asleep or wake up without you again.”

“Tomorrow.” He presses his hot forehead against mine. “I'm coming with you tonight.”

I shake my head, our foreheads rolling. “I want to tell Taeler alone, and I need to work on what exactly I need to say. But know this, Trouble: tomorrow starts our beginning.”

“No, baby, we began that night in Central Park. This is just the next chapter.”

“The best chapter.”

“The chapter filled with me fucking you every night. With me waking up to you every morning. To us never being apart again.”

* * *

With the hood of Trey’s black zip-up hoodie pulled low, I smile like a damn fool as the asphalt crunches beneath my feet. A hand between my shoulder blades guides me through the dark alley toward the awaiting town car. A deep glorious ache throbs in my cheeks from holding the face-splitting grin since we walked out of Trey's condo minutes ago.

The flip-flops pop against my heels with each step, mirroring the click of the agents’ dress shoe heels. A few feet ahead, the door to the town car is swung open, an agent holding it for me as he scans the empty streets for threats. Adrenaline pumps through my veins, adding a small bounce to my steps.

“You seem happy tonight.” I tilt my head just enough to keep my face covered but also to see who spoke. Agent Ponder's profile slides in and out of the shadows cast by the low streetlamp, his hand still on the open door.

“You could say that,” I say, barely able to contain my excitement.

“And why's that?”

“Ponder, what are you doing here?”

Turning, I look to the agent at my back. Agent Wright frowns as he takes in Agent Ponder's hand now gripping my bicep before shifting his gaze to the agent himself.

Forgetting about the need for concealment, I tilt my face up for a better view of Agent Ponder.

“I called the boss. He ordered me to meet up here before you escorted her back.”

I furrow my brows, looking from Agent Ponder to Agent Wright. Neither looks very happy about the other being here. Which doesn’t make sense.

“For fuck’s sake, call him if you need to, but we have to get her secure, not lingering on the damn streets.” He grumbles a string of curse words under his breath as he turns us toward the car. He urges me into the back of the vehicle and slams the door shut.

Unease weighs in my gut. Nail between my teeth, I lean closer to the tinted window to see out. Whatever tension was building between the two men disappears as they slap each other’s backs. The agent who had been waiting in the front passenger seat relaxes back, his shoulders lowering as Agent Wright slides behind the wheel. The remaining agents pile into the lead and follow SUVs. When everyone is situated and I’m buckled in, we zoom off through the early morning darkness.

I exhale deeply to ease the ball of dread restricting my breath. Whatever that was between the two agents was nothing. Agent Wright and Agent Ponder are freaking Secret Service, not bad guys. Everything is fine. I’ll get back to the White House, take care of a few emails, and work on the speech for tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

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