Clay shrugged. He slid open the compartment between their seats, placed his phone inside, and then purposefully shut it tight. "That makes more sense to me than giving you his phone number."
"I only ever tried to reach him on the campaign line, and unless you think it"s a good idea to do that now, perhaps you should give me his personal," she snapped. Well, besides the time she had used his personal line last year, but she had deleted that number and it did nothing to bring that up with Clay right now.
"You called him on the campaign line?" Clay asked, shaking his head. "For being smart, you two are f.u.c.king idiots."
"Just get moving. I"ll figure it out myself," she said, turning to face the window again.
A million scenarios ran through her mind on the drive back to her house. How the h.e.l.l was she going to get hold of Brady? Her earlier tactic had always been to call the office, say she was Sandy Carmichael, and poof! Brady answered the phone. Well, she couldn"t call as Sandy now. And she doubted they would be taking any calls, especially not from reporters. She could make s.h.i.t up about knowing who Sandy Carmichael was, but Liz was sure that would only get her as far as Heather. She didn"t trust Heather to get her through to Brady. She could have called Savannah, but she wasn"t sure she was ready for her friend to know that she had been with her brother, and with Clay not cooperating, she really didn"t have another choice.
Liz glanced down at the compartment that held Clay"s phone. She wasn"t stupid enough to try to get it out of there. But if there was another alternative, she wasn"t seeing one.
Clay shifted gears as he veered toward her house. Liz had to make up her mind. The worst thing that could happen was that he would notice her reaching for it. She could live with that.
She had been staring out the window most of the drive, and she slowly turned her body to face Clay. "Hey," she whispered softly.
"Oh, are we talking again?" he asked.
"No need to be rude," she said, leaning forward and resting her forearm on the center compartment. Most of her body covered the compartment so that when he was looking at the road, she was pretty sure the only thing he saw in his periphery were her b.r.e.a.s.t.s spilling out of her tiny dress. "I just wanted to say thank you."
"I can keep driving if this includes road head."
Liz laughed melodically. Clay would always be Clay. She just needed to keep him entertained, keep him from seeing what she was planning.
"I don"t think so," Liz said, pressing the b.u.t.ton on the side of the compartment softly. "But I was kind of a b.i.t.c.h when I said that stuff about you and Brady."
His eyes shifted to hers and she stopped moving. "I"m still not going to take you to see him, Liz."
"I didn"t ask you to."
"Road head might convince me," he said, his eyes darting back to the road.
Liz shook her head as she slowly, almost painfully slowly, began to slide back the edge of the compartment. "You think I"m going to suck your d.i.c.k and then go see Brady?"
"At least I"d get off."
Yeah, he deserved this.
The hole in the compartment was just wide enough to stick her hand in. She licked her lips and tried to take even breaths. They were so close to her house, and she needed to time this just right.
They stopped at a red light and Liz for sure thought she was going to start sweating when he turned to look at her. She held his gaze perfectly, though, not wavering once. If she did, she was sure that he was going to notice that something was amiss . . . like the fact that she was leaning into him and the compartment containing his phone was open.
"So what do you say?" Clay asked with that same dimpled smirk.
"I still think no," Liz responded.
The light changed and they were off again. Liz breathed a soft sigh of relief when he had to look where he was going again. Her fingers slowly inched into the compartment, then her palm, and then her hand all the way to the wrist.
"Your loss."
"What, like giving you head is a privilege?" she managed to ask with a disbelieving laugh.
"It is."
Liz scoffed. "Men. Always thinking with the wrong head."
Her fingers brushed against his phone and she slowly lifted the device into her hand. Now to get it out of there.
"As if you weren"t thinking about my d.i.c.k when you let me take you back to my place."
When Clay turned his head at a stop sign to check for traffic, Liz lifted the phone out of the compartment and with a gulp pushed it down under her leg. She pressed her finger on the b.u.t.ton to the compartment, gingerly clicked it back into place, and then righted herself.
"That was then and this is now," Liz said with an uneasy shrug.
Holy s.h.i.t! She had his phone. She couldn"t believe it. Her stomach was in knots with antic.i.p.ation and worry about the last couple minutes of the drive.
"Women. So fickle," he grumbled. "Where am I taking you anyway?"
Liz gave Clay directions for the last few turns, and then he pulled the Porsche up in front of her house. She saw Victoria"s and Daniel"s cars in the driveway. If they weren"t already in a s.e.x coma, she was sure they were going to have a million questions. But first she needed to get the f.u.c.k out of Clay"s car.
"Thanks for driving me," Liz told him before popping the door open and sliding the phone into her hand.
"I couldn"t let you try to walk back."
"I thought you might let me."
"No farther than the end of the driveway. Long enough for you to realize how stupid it was," he said. The dimples in his cheeks were visible as she hastily stepped out of the car. She moved her hand behind her body to keep it from his vision.
"Night," she said, moving to push the door closed with the other hand.
"Hey!" he called, stopping her.
The blood pumped through her veins. She was this far. He couldn"t know. She was this close!
"Yeah?" she murmured.
"You forgot your purse," he said, pointing at the small bag on the floor.
Liz breathed out heavily. Oh thank G.o.d! She grabbed the purse off of the floor of the car, slammed the door shut, and practically sprinted into her house. She shut the front door and leaned her back against it, breathing in and out heavily, her chest heaving.
"Holy s.h.i.t," she whispered into the quiet house.
She slid the lock into place carefully before taking the phone back into her bedroom. She kicked off her high heels, stripped out of her party dress, and then threw on some sweats. Taking a seat on the bed, she opened the phone, swiped her finger across the touch screen, and it lit up in her hand.
She was in.
Her hands trembled as she searched Clay"s contacts for Brady. There were four numbers listed: D.C. office, N.C. office, personal, and work. Since she had gone to the trouble of stealing Clay"s phone, she transferred all of them into her phone, even though the only number that she was planning to use tonight was his personal one.
Liz placed Clay"s phone down on her nightstand before pulling back up Brady"s personal number and clicking Send. She could hear her heart beat in her ears as she waited for him to answer. It rang four times and then went to voice mail. Liz ended the call. She couldn"t leave him a voice mail.
All of that trouble, and he didn"t pick up her call.
She sat on her bed for a solid minute, just staring off into s.p.a.ce wondering what the h.e.l.l her life had become. How the h.e.l.l had she gotten to this place? All she wanted to do was find a way to make it right, and still she couldn"t do that. She had blown her second chance and didn"t deserve another one. But that didn"t mean she wasn"t going to fight for that.
Then the lightbulb turned on. Clay"s phone. He would answer Clay"s phone. She would have to do some major explaining as to how she acquired the phone, but at least she would get to speak with Brady.
Liz s.n.a.t.c.hed the phone back off of the nightstand, found Brady"s personal number, and dialed. Her foot tapped anxiously on the floor.
Ring.
She could get through this. She just needed to talk to him.
Ring.
She didn"t know what she was going to say, but it didn"t matter. She would wing it. It was Brady. She had to do something.
Ring.
He wasn"t going to answer. She had done this for nothing . . .
"Clay," Brady"s gruff voice scolded through the phone, "where the f.u.c.k have you been? We"re on lockdown over here. Everyone is freaking out and you just disappear. This is so like you. Why can"t you do one thing that would make someone other than yourself happy?"
"Brady," Liz whispered into the phone.
There was a pregnant pause on the other line. Her heart skipped a beat.
"Liz?" he breathed in disbelief.
Chapter 25.
TALK FIRST.
Hey," Liz said softly. All of the bold words that she had been planning to say to him flitted out of her mind at his smooth, s.e.xy voice.
"You"re calling me from Clay"s phone," he said, confused.
"Yeah."
"How did you get Clay"s phone?"
Liz bit her lip. Well, this was going to be fun. "It"s kind of a long story. I had to get hold of you. I really need to talk to you. Can we meet up?"
"What?" he asked, and then seemed to realize what she had asked. His voice turned cold. "No. I think that is a terrible idea. I told you." He took a deep breath and then whispered, "I told you not to call me again, that I wasn"t going to be there when he hurt you."
"I know, but . . ."
"I don"t make promises that I can"t keep, Liz. You know that."
She swallowed. She knew that perfectly well. It was the reason he had never said I love you. Not because he didn"t. That thought pushed her forward.
"I know. I know you did. And I"m sorry. I"m sorry for everything. For leaving, for being with him, for telling him, for ruining things, for hurting you."
"Liz, I really don"t want to hear it," he said.
"Well, I"m going to tell you anyway," she cried desperately. "I f.u.c.ked up. I didn"t mean for things to happen like this. And I have so much that I need to tell you. Just please, please . . . meet me in person. If you didn"t care about me, then you wouldn"t have broken up with Erin. I know I don"t deserve another chance, but give me one anyway. Please."
Brady sighed heavily into the phone. "Who told you about Erin? I"ve kept it out of the news entirely."
"Um . . . Clay," she whispered. She had so much to explain to Brady. She just desperately wanted to do it in person.
"Why do I have the sinking suspicion that I don"t want to know how you are suddenly this well acquainted with my brother."
"Clay is . . . whatever. He doesn"t matter. Actually he probably wants to kill me right about now, because I stole his phone," she mumbled.
"You did what?" Brady cried. "You stole Clay"s phone?"
"I said it"s a long story!"
"You didn"t tell me the story involved theft!" he snapped back.
"Brady Maxwell losing his cool," she said softly. "How often does that happen?" He remained silent. She could practically see him pacing and trying to calm down after her retort. "It"s because it"s me. It"s me, Brady. I"m the one who makes you lose your cool."
"You say that as if it"s a good thing."
"It means there"s f.u.c.king pa.s.sion, and it means you f.u.c.king care. If you wanted to end this conversation then you would have done it as soon as you heard my voice. But you didn"t. And I know why you didn"t. It"s the same reason that I haven"t been able to get you out of my head since the day I walked out of the conference room. I tried! Lord knows I tried to forget you, but I didn"t. And I can"t. And I don"t think you can forget me either."
"What"s the point of all this, Liz?" he asked with a heavy sigh. "We"re not going back to last year."
"I don"t want to. But I can"t sit here knowing what hand I had in this getting revealed to the public, knowing how you feel, knowing how I feel, and not try to see you. You deserve an explanation. h.e.l.l, you deserve so much more, Brady," she whispered. "Can"t we just start with that?"
"Not tonight," he said resignedly.
Liz jumped off of her bed. She couldn"t believe it. He was actually going to see her.
"Tonight would be best," she managed to get out.
"Am I supposed to just get away from everyone?" he asked. It was a rhetorical question, but she sure as h.e.l.l wasn"t leaving it that way.
"Yes. You"re a f.u.c.king congressman. Tell them to f.u.c.k off."
Brady laughed and it was the most beautiful sound she had ever heard. G.o.d, how she had missed that.