Power #4 (The Power Romance Series - Book #4) by Adams Claire

Author:Adams, Claire [Adams, Claire]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-04-07T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter 6

Yes. I had time in this new, unemployed future. But I had a friend, as well. I wasn’t alone. I opened the door to Rachel’s apartment and sat, drinking wine at the table and waiting for her to come home. I tapped my fingers against the table’s wood, sensing that the stress from the past few months was falling from my shoulders. I tried my hardest not to feel disappointed, not to feel like my entire world was crashing around me. I tried not to remember that being involved in the political spectrum was all I had ever dreamed of for my entire life. I didn’t have time for such sadness. Not now.

Finally, Rachel burst into the apartment. She took a single look at me, and she brought her hand to her heart. “What’s happened?” she whispered. She looked stricken.

“What do you mean, what’s happened?” I asked her. I shook my head, biting my lip. “Nothing’s happened!”

But Rachel tapped forward and placed her hand on my cheek, wiping at a tear I’d allowed to escape, unnoticed. “Honey.” She shook her head. “I don’t regret getting out of that political world for one second, I can tell you that. Look at what they’re doing to you?”

I wanted to tell her I was out—that I’d moved on, as well. But it felt like such sacred knowledge. And so, instead: “Hey. Would you want to go for a run by the monuments tonight? It’s one of our nicer evenings—one of the last of the year, surely, before winter.” I swallowed, my eyes peering up toward her. “What do you say?”

She raised her eyebrow toward me. “It’s not such a bad idea, is it?” she said, tipping her hip to the right. She checked her watch. “We can get there before the sun falls away for good.” She winked at me.

We rushed into our separate rooms and pulled on our running clothes. I felt the running tights align so well with my taut muscles. I hadn’t been running in several weeks, I knew, but the strain of the past few weeks’ terror had initiated a great boost in my metabolism. I had actually lost weight.

We met in the kitchen, stretching our limbs and easing our arms into the air. I felt my back pop. Rachel wasn’t asking any further questions. It seemed that she understood: I wanted to stay away from the subject, at least for now.

We leaped into a taxi, and the man took us toward the monuments. They seemed to catch fire in the orange from the sunset. I grabbed both my knee caps with my harsh fingers and felt the strain of my bones. I grinned into the sun, closing my eyes.

Naturally, with my eyes closed like this, I could only see Xavier; I could only imagine a life with Xavier. I nearly felt his fingers cup my breasts, play with my nipples. I could nearly feel his smile on me as we walked by each other in the White House, each fueled with the secret of our affair.

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