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A bus screeched to a halt beside them, but Sonia didn’t flinch. “Is this some kind of self-sabotage, Brendan? You want to get caught and tank your career?”
A chill ran through him. She was too smart, too knowing. Her intent gaze arrowed to his hidden self, the Brendan the world didn’t see.
“Answer me, Sonia. That’s an order. Tell me if you’d do it.”
Her face and neck flushed down to the dip of her cleavage.
“It depends,” she said quietly. “If public sex is your deepest fantasy, then I might find a way to make it happen. Within reason. But if you’re purposefully trying to screw up your life, then no.”
“Why do you care?” His voice was equally quiet. “Why do my reasons make a difference?”
“I don’t know why I care, Bren. But don’t ask me to fuck you in public because you want to get caught. I’ll feel your motivations, and they’ll feel wrong. I’d hate both of us afterward.”
Her eyes were so wide and dark that if he took a step forward, he’d tumble into them. Instead, he gave a jaunty shrug. “Well, you already hate me.”
She tilted her head. “I’m not so sure about that.”
Taking her hand again, he led her down the sidewalk. “Relax. No voyeurs for us tonight. I doubt even my roommate will be home. It’ll just be you, me, and my apartment.”
Sonia looked uneasy as they passed bars and cafés. Her fingers flexed in his. “You have a roommate?”
He laughed. “DC’s expensive, sunshine, and most Congress staffer salaries are crap. You must know that.”
“I didn’t know your salaries were so low. Believe it or not, there’s a whole world beyond the Hill.”
Brendan clapped a hand to his forehead, feigning shock. “Could’ve fooled me. As for a roommate, I also like the company. Even though we’re not home that much.”
“Then why do you like it?”
“I like seeing someone else’s stuff around, you know?” He swung Sonia’s hand, bringing a reluctant grin to her face. “His food in the fridge, his toothbrush in the bathroom. Hearing his music when I walk in. Even his sad, dying plant in the corner of the dining room that’s only alive because I water it.”
She shot him an astute look. “You don’t like being alone.”
“Never got used to it.” Brendan felt his shoulders hunch, then dropped them. “That’s what you get for being a twin.”
He meant to say it jokingly, but there must have been something else in his voice, because she squeezed his hand.
When they reached his apartment, he twisted the key in the door and pulled Sonia in, ready to push her against the wall and kiss the hell out of her.
“O’Brian!” came a sudden yell. “Aw yeah, now the party can get started.”
His roommate Jonah, wearing a chocolate-smeared apron, waved a wooden spoon from the kitchen.
The apartment was full. A couple dozen people occupied the chairs and couch and perched on the windowsills. Open bottles of wine covered the dining room table. All the glasses they owned had been pressed into use. Music and noisy conversation filled the air.
Beside him, Sonia stiffened.
Normally, Brendan would dive into the fray. Greeting everyone — he knew most of the guests at a glance — pouring another round of wine, playing host alongside Jonah like he’d expected this party all along.
But with Sonia frozen beside him, he suddenly felt like he was walking a tightrope.
“Hey, guys,” he said easily, wrapping an arm around Sonia’s shoulders. He half-expected her to shake him off, but she remained rigid. Protectiveness surged through him.
“Hey, where you been?” Jonah asked cheerfully. “We thought you’d never show. It’s Yasmin’s birthday, remember?”
He gestured to the girl at the head of the table. Yasmin adjusted the sparkly tiara perched on her long black hair and stared at Brendan through flawlessly executed eye makeup. “Yeah, remember?”
Brendan gave her an ingratiating smile. With Sonia at his side, it was harder to turn on the charm, like a knob that stuck.
