Page 36 of Wicked Me
“And this fountain,” Charlotte said. “These statues are so damnsexy,and it fits the place, you know? Librarians are some of the naughtiest individuals I know.”
My gaze strayed to the naked sea nymph, her head thrown back with a look of complete ecstasy while she rode her horse. Was that how I would look if I rode Sam? With my thighs squeezed tight around his hips while I fucked him? A zip of hot, electrical energy stormed to my center at the thought of him underneath me, gliding his hands all over my body, and pumping deep inside me.
I shook my head hard enough to rattle that thought back into the dark corners of my mind where it belonged. There would be no naked riding. Ever.
“It’s so freaking hot out here,” Charlotte said and jerked her chin toward the water. “Anyone want to get wet before we head back inside?”
I swallowed. Pretty sure I was already soaked.
Nicole shook her head while she folded her sandwich paper up into a perfect little square on her lap.
“No, thanks,” I said and stood.
“Paige?”
I turned and squinted up at the tall figure who didn’t quite block out the noontime sun. The figure shifted to the right, and the familiar face ran a chill through my blood. Gray eyes gave the appearance of kindness when he smiled. Silver dusted his dark sideburns, though the rest of him hadn’t changed from seven years ago. Old war wounds marked his strong chin and slashed downward underneath the top few undone buttons of his white dress shirt. It wasn’t the scars that made me shudder in disgust.
“Rick,” I said, and my voice sounded disconnected, as if this was someone else’s bad dream and I was just an observer.
“That’s Senator Rick to you,” he said and flashed a grin that helped him win the office. And my trust when I was fifteen. “You haven’t changed a bit.”
“Haven’t I?” Lunch began a steady climb up my throat, and I forced a swallow.
I knew seeing him again was a definite possibility when I came to D.C. for the internship, but I refused to ignore my dream just because of a possibility. I knew Rick’s true colors he kept hidden behind his political persona, and those same shades were a vivid reminder of my past. He had spun the color wheel too fast, when I was too young, and the resulting streaks couldn’t be erased.
Like Her Number. Mom’s email subject line invaded my head while I stared up at Rick, and I wondered if Her looked like him.
Charlotte rested a protective hand on my shoulder. The ends of her dark hair tickled my arm as she aimed her narrowed gaze at Rick. “Everything okay, Paige?”
Nicole stood on my other side, aVetched between her brows, while her green eyes read my face.
“Sure, everything’s okay,” Rick said. “We’re old friends.”
“Is your name Paige?” Charlotte snapped.
She didn’t seem to notice or care how high up the political food chain he went, and I silently thanked her for having my back. Not too many people did.
I attempted to empty my expression because I didn’t want to have to explain myself to my new friends. They would likely never talk to me again if they knew the truth.
“Yeah,” I said with an innocent shrug. “Everything’s fine.”
They nodded and slowly drifted off, though I could feel their doubt rippling up my spine to merge with my own. It was no coincidence that Rick showed up when he knew I would be here, too. Did he come to check up on me, to see that our little secret was still lodged at the back of my throat behind the lump of revulsion?
“You got the fruit basket I sent okay?” he asked.
“Yes,” I choked out.
“It took hours trying to remember what you did and didn’t like. Seven years is a long time, but you’re still a fan of peaches, right?”
I nodded even though the thought of peaches rolled my stomach.
“They had an enormous list of fruits I’ve never even heard of, but I read through each one just in case it rang any bells up here.” He tapped a finger to his graying temple with the same hand as his wedding ring.
I had to wonder what he was getting at with all this. Did he want me to thank him for all his trouble? Assure him I never told anyone? Promise we could pick things up where we left off? Because I refused to do any of that, and he didn’t deserve it anyway.
The sun pounded down on top of me, rushing sweat down my sides, and melted some of the memories I’d fought so hard to keep stashed away. My summer crush on him, sneaking into my parents’ spare bedroom where he slept, finding out later he was married, and then...
“I need to get back inside,” I said in a rush and turned away from him and all that he represented.
