Private Politics (The Easy Part) by Emma Barry Read Free Book Online Page A

self-interested right now. Ryan Scott could do them both a huge favor and confess the whole thing, ending the “we” before it even got a chance to get started. Because he could never seem to move from knowing to
knowing
he didn’t have a chance with her.
    “I probably need to head back,” she said. They stood there awkwardly staring at each other.
    He hoped that all the things churning through his mind weren’t obvious, though really, how could they be? “I’m attracted to you but I know it’s hopeless and that sort of pisses me off even though I get it” wasn’t one of the better-known emotions. That one never showed up on charts of universal expressions.
    “Oh, okay. Thanks. For the info. And the save,” he said.
    “You’re welcome. And ditto.”
    Still, neither of them moved. She seemed to be thinking, worrying the corner of her mouth very slightly with her perfect teeth and drawing his attention where he didn’t want it to go. She was considering something. Was she still upset? What could he say to get her to believe she was going to be okay?
    Just as he was going to ask what was up, she crossed the space between them, slid her hands around his neck and pressed herself up against him. He inhaled deeply and reminded himself this was a friendly hug. Nothing more than a friendly hug.
    Except they had never been this close physically. He’d never been able to fully experience how good she smelled or feel her hair catching on the stubble on his cheek. He’d never run his hands over her lower back, brushed the soft fabric of her clothes and pulled her body flush with his. The jolt of hip-on-hip was jarring, not so much because they hit each other with any great force but from the rightness of it—which was a silly, romantic fantasy.
    What choice did he have? It would be bad manners not to return a hug. But once she was gathered up against him, it was damn hard to remember why she couldn’t be all the time.
    “I mean it,” she whispered, her breath tickling his ear. “Thank you.”
    He made a noise in assent, not trusting his voice. He tried to calibrate his arms correctly. He didn’t want to crush her and he wanted her to know that he’d release her the second she pulled away, but he wanted to enjoy the only hug he would ever get from her.
    Rather than detach immediately, she let her head fall against his neck and shoulder. This wasn’t about gratitude; it was about consolation. She needed comfort right now.
    He was so stupid and selfish. No matter how many times he had said he was done hoping, he knew he wouldn’t ever be done. Probably because she was perfect. Absolutely fucking perfect. Except for the part where she’d never go for him. That part sucked. But right now, he could do something for her, giving her this hug and helping her figure out what was going on. And nothing else.
    Though that didn’t stop him from pretending. Maybe he’d worked up the nerve to ask her out six months ago, right at the moment when the crush he’d been nursing since the moment they’d met had turned into a full-on preoccupation. Maybe she’d said yes. Maybe they’d been dating ever since, first casually and now more seriously. Maybe Millie and Parker gave
them
crap for the PDAs. Maybe she’d come to him first with everything at work and this was the fiftieth hug he’d given her since then.
    She shifted against him and the fantasy faded. It wasn’t like he needed a story to make this moment meaningful. Alyse, in his arms, wanting to be there, was enough. He was so far gone for her it wasn’t even funny.
    He breathed in again, trying to untangle the scent of her shampoo from that of her perfume from the smell that was unique to her. It was a delectable layering of flowers and musk designed to drive a man insane. So why wasn’t there another man? Why were his the arms she sought comfort in?
    Rather than ask, he tightened his grip infinitesimally and exhaled, her soft hair fluttering against his breath.