Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 102166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
He saw her softening, but the tremble in her lower lip said she wasn’t quite there yet.
“Yesterday was supposed to be ours. No plans. No press. Just you and me. I should have made sure our peace was protected. I just … underestimated how necessary it was to make my boundaries known.”
She looked at him, a glimmer of hope hidden in those gorgeous eyes of hers. “So what’s different now? What stops this from happening again the next time the campaign needs something shiny to parade in front of potential voters?”
“What’s different now is that nothing in this campaign—nothing in this whole damn city—has ever felt real until you.
“Everything I say in interviews and on stages is polished and practiced. Every handshake is a strategy based on polling and research. But with you? With you, I have no idea what I’m doing. I don’t know the right things to do or say. And it’s new and scary. But it’s real. It’s mine.
“I can’t lose you, Iris.” His voice was hardly more than a whisper. “Not to them. They don’t matter, not anymore. All that matters is you. And if there’s even a chance that you want to give me another chance, I promise I will do everything I can to protect you.”
She exhaled shakily, arms wrapping around her bent knees. “I want to believe you.” Her voice was quieter, raw around the edges. “I do. But you and I both know that the spotlight, the cameras, the questions—they’re a part of your life. And I can’t fake it like you can. I can’t put on a smile when I’m upset or angry. I can’t be perfectly polished and know all the right things to say and how to act. And we both know I would be a liability to you.”
“You are not a liability. You’re the reason I remembered I’m a person at all.” His voice shook, earnest and bare. “Before you, I didn’t even know I was running on autopilot. Smiling, shaking hands, pretending to be whoever the people wanted me to be. You made me want something for myself. Made me crave something real. You have to see that.”
The hope battled the fear in her eyes.
“It could all fall apart,” she said. “The optics. The campaign. We both know I’m not meant for public life.”
“Good,” he said without hesitation. “I don’t want someone meant for something as fake as public life. I want you. Wild, wonderful you.”
“You’re not afraid?”
“Terrified,” he admitted, a small, crooked smile breaking through. “But I’d rather be taking risks with you than safe on my own. Because nothing is scarier than a future without you.”
Her eyes were shimmering then. He knew she wanted it just as much as he did.
“I can’t promise I won’t screw up,” he said, reaching for her hand. “Because I probably will. I’m still figuring this out—how to be the man you deserve. But I promise I won’t ever stop trying.”
“I don’t need perfect. I hate perfect. But …”
“But?” he prompted.
“But I love you. I love you enough to be willing to give up everything I thought I couldn’t live without.”
His heart, so crushed just hours before, swelled in his chest, threatening to break free.
“You don’t know what it does to me to hear you say that. I’ve been chasing approval, applause, votes—and none of it has ever meant as much as this, as you. I love you too. More than I even knew I was capable of. But I don’t want you to give up anything to be with me.”
“Your life is on land.”
“And part of your heart will always be in the ocean. I would never ask you to give that up for me. I want you to have the ocean, with its glimmersharks and eel quartets and endless depths. I will do everything in my power to find a way to bridge our two worlds so you never feel like you are giving up anything to be with me. I want to broaden your world, not restrict it. I want you. All of you. On land, on water, in between. Forever.”
He reached for her, and she let herself be pulled across his lap. Their lips met, full of the fear, the hope, the promises, the potential.
And when they broke away, Iris rested her head against his chest, listening to the heart she knew for certain belonged to her.
“Do I smell hot pretzels?”
He grinned. “You think I would risk this conversation without carbs?” He reached for the bag. “I come bearing snacks and sincerity.”
“You’re lucky I accept bribes.”
Oh, he was fully aware just how lucky he was.
“Let’s go home,” she said, reaching for his hand.
30
Iris
“I almost gave up my dreams of fame and fortune,” Monty said, throwing himself dramatically across her bed, his wing covering his eyes, “to go back to the ocean for you.”