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“Issues . . . as in?”
Another moment of silence that pisses me off. I rarely lose my calm, but this calls for it.
“Touch. That includes sexual relations... She’s a germaphobe. It is quite the list...,” Kieran says, clearing his throat. I slam my palms on the table.
“You want me to give up the only pleasure I have in my life?”
“It’s not that pleasurable for you, asshole. It’s proving a point.”
“Don’t you start.”
That’s the thing. When you know someone as well as we know each other, you know what buttons to press. Kieran plucks a knife out.
“Don’t you dare.”
“Don’t make me, then.”
“Fine. Keep your fucking favor. I’m doing it.”
With that, I storm away, but at the door, one hand grips my shoulder. I look to see Kieran’s cold blue eyes digging into mine.
“Can you handle that?”
“I can handle fucking anything,” I sneer.
***
I can’t bitch forever. It is what it is. I’ve never sought happiness and don’t deserve it either. And after three days, I focus on what I will gain through this marriage: more influence. The rest is insignificant.
At the compound, Cato says, “The princess is back.”
“If I were a princess, you’d still be a peasant,” I retort.
“Both of you crybabies, stop.”
“It’s teething. It will pass,” Hayden says to Kieran, both chuckling.
“You fucking assholes.”
Hayden shrugs. “You’re being a baby. Just think that you can’t get it up anymore.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Deal with it,” Cato says, grinning.
They share a conspiratorial look that has my blood boiling.
“Have you talked to Campbell yet?” Kieran asks.
“I will. On my terms.”
“We can’t afford word getting out that there is an issue between you and the governor. Stop fussing. The deal is done.”
“Whatever.”
“This is important. We can’t afford any mistakes on your way to the presidency.”
It’s years ahead of us. It’s the longest game we’re playing.
