Page 144 of Legally Ours

I didn't say anything, just continued to push my hands through his hair and over his shoulders, not willing to relinquish our eye contact.

"Do you know that your gaze is particularly penetrating?" Brandon asked, although his irritation was mostly a joke. He continued to play with my hair, and now I could see love intermixed with the fear in his expression.

"I'm here for you," I said quietly.

He sighed. "I know, Red."

"Then why do it? Why put yourself through all of this stress if it's not something you really want to do?"

"Are you saying I should quit just because it's getting hard?" Brandon scoffed. He released his hold on me and sat back in his chair, folding his hands behind his neck. "I'm not a quitter, Red."

"No one is saying that. No one would."

"That's exactly what they would say."

"And since when do you care what other people say about you?"

But then Brandon looked down, and I remembered that he cared very much what other people thought of him. Maybe not the random people in the city he didn't know––even though I also knew that he was as Boston-bred as could be, and to have his hometown turn on him for any reason would be incredibly painful. But really, he cared about his friends. He cared about Ray and Susan. He cared about me.

Slowly, I crawled on top of him so that I straddled his waist in the chair, then cupped his face to force him to look at me.

"Where do you see us in five years? Ten?" I asked as I stroked my fingers over the soft hair of his eyebrows.

He closed his eyes under the caress, leaning slightly into one of my hands.

"The governor's mansion?" I prodded more as I pushed back some of his hair. "The White House?"

Under my hands, Brandon shuddered, and suddenly I could feel his pulse through his temple.

"The truth?" he said. "The idea of campaigning like that practically gives me another panic attack right now." He sighed. "The debate didn't go so well last week."

"I heard."

He closed his eyes. "I kind of freaked out. I...honestly, I don't know if I'm really cut out for this."

I let my hands drop to his shoulders, and he leaned back, now searching my face for a response. I was trying really, really hard not to smile with relief.

"So...you don't want to be a career politician?" I asked.

Brandon cleared his throat. "God, no. But I made a commitment, Red."

"Brandon, there are four other primary candidates for your party alone. Don't you like any of them?"

He weighed his head from side to side. "I like Joe Ferris. He's a stand-up guy––from Roxbury, actually. But he has no money, just a few of the unions backing him."

"Brandon, you could help him." I bit my lip, trying to swallow the excitement I felt at even the possibility of getting out of politics. "I mean, if that's what you want."

Brandon smirked up at me. "Is that what you want?"

I softened and leaned down to kiss him lightly. His hands clasped my face, holding the kiss a few beats longer. Then I sat back up.

"I want to support what you want," I said. "I want you to be as happy as you make me."

"Come on, Red. You have to tell me what you want too."

But I stayed silent, just watching him, letting my previous words hang in the air.

Brandon rolled his eyes, but the tips of his ears turned pink with pleasure from my comment. "I don't want to be that rich guy who plays with politics. A fucking cliché."