Her actions may have been reckless in D.C., but it was hardly different from him bringing woman after woman to these events. She wasn’t accusing him of doing anything with them, but she couldn’t keep having people stand in her place. It felt wrong.
They needed to figure this out. And having Clay’s words echoing in her ears wasn’t helping matters. I’m sorry he’s convinced you so thoroughly otherwise. Had Brady just convinced her to do what he wanted?
Clay sure seemed to think so. She had changed so much this summer. She hardly even remembered what she had written in her article that was so vile. She didn’t remember how it felt not to like Brady or understand his reasoning for running for office. Had he warped her viewpoint so much?
Liz reached for her laptop and pulled up the first article she had written about Brady. Her head pounded as she read her rather cruel recount of Brady’s announcement for Congress. She understood why Professor Mires had given Liz the grade she did. The paper had been popular for Brady’s picture. Her article was less than stellar, and actually rather mean. She couldn’t believe that she had written that Brady was power hungry, with money as his only interest.
She shook her head and flipped to the next article about Brady just as her phone blasted loudly through the room. Liz jumped and hurtled toward her purse.
Please be Brady!
Liz flipped on her phone and answered. “Hello?”
“Hey, Liz,” Hayden said.
She bit her lip and all the adrenaline released from her body. Not Brady.
“Hayden, how are you?” she asked.
“Good. Though I’ve been missing you.”
“Oh,” she said, biting back a smile. “How do you have the time at that busy job of yours?”
“I always seem to find time.”
Liz laughed lightly despite herself. She didn’t know when Brady was going to come by, and he hadn’t called. She was feeling pretty down on herself and the whole stupid trip, and here Hayden was calling when she needed someone to boost her the most.
“Well, mostly I was calling with good news.”
“Yeah? What happened?” Liz asked, wandering into the bedroom, pulling back the sheets, and snuggling into the comforter.
“Jamie was exhibiting this weekend. She told you about that, right?”
“Yeah, she did.”
“Well, a curator from a museum picked up her work for a slot in their rising stars showcase. Her paintings will be up in the museum starting in August.”
“Oh my God, that’s so exciting for her! She must be freaking out.”
Hayden chuckled. “You have no idea what I’m going through over here. I wish you were here to diffuse the insanity. She likes you.”
“Are you calling me to escape Jamie?” Liz asked accusingly.
“That doesn’t sound like me at all. Seriously, though, drive back up to D.C. and save me from her constant frolicking around the apartment.”
Liz snickered and covered her mouth. “Frolicking?”
“I’m not kidding. She is skipping around and singing Céline Dion at the top of her lungs. I think she might have legitimately lost it this time,” he said with an undertone of humor.
“Sorry, no can do. Sounds like you will just have to stick this one out on your own. What would you do if you landed your dream job? I bet you would frolic around the living room,” Liz teased.
“I don’t frolic,” he told her.
“You’re no fun.”
“Oh please, I can think of much better ways to celebrate.”
Liz knew she should have responded with something snarky right away, but the way he said that made her stop her normal retort. He was teasing her. She couldn’t grasp that.
He had kissed her in D.C., and still she had a hard time believing that he was interested in her. Maybe she just didn’t want to believe it; if she did, then she would have to face too many other complications.
But then he went and said things like that…like finding other ways to celebrate. Maybe she just had a dirty mind…
He coughed, clearing his throat. “I mean, you know, other than frolicking in the living room.”
By the way he said that last part she was pretty sure she wasn’t the only one with her mind in the gutter.
“Right,” she said, searching for a way to change the subject. This was dangerous territory. “Um…when do you come back to Chapel Hill?”
“The Friday before school starts. I have to move into my new place and I’m not looking forward to it. You don’t happen to like manual labor, do you?”
“Are you asking me to help you move?” Liz asked.
“Nah, just seeing if you wanted to watch a bunch of runners with their shirts off moving heavy objects,” he said sarcastically.
“Well, in that case, sign me up.”
“Cool. I’ll send you the address.”
They continued talking on through the night, until Liz felt herself falling asleep on the line. She’d had a stressful day even though she was supposed to be on vacation, and it was nice to unwind. Her conversation with Hayden remained tame as they discussed the paper and his job. She told him the good news from Professor Mires, and he was happy for her, albeit a bit jealous of the awesome opportunity. It kept her mind off of the fact that Brady still hadn’t called, and she had spent the majority of her trip to Hilton Head alone.
“I think I need to get some sleep,” she whispered drowsily.
“Yeah. I didn’t mean to keep you up so late.”
“It’s okay. Just tired,” she managed through a yawn.
“I’ll see you in a couple weeks. Talk to you soon.”
Liz got off the phone with Hayden, and she found herself falling into an easy slumber. Her anger from earlier had dissipated. She just wanted to sleep away the rest of the night and forget that once again she had waited up for Brady to no avail.
A crash in the living room awoke Liz from her light slumber. Her eyes darted open and she sat straight up in bed. She was still wearing a T-shirt and shorts from earlier that evening, but she didn’t want some random stranger to come into her bedroom.
Liz hopped out of bed and scurried to the open doorway. She pressed herself against the wall, let out of a low soft breath to calm herself, and then she peered around the corner.
Her heart stopped when she saw Brady standing in the doorway. He was in a pair of khaki shorts and an untucked button-down as he all but stumbled forward in the living room area. Was he drunk?
“Brady Maxwell,” Liz said sharply, unable to believe that after everything that had happened he would show up at the hotel like this. He hadn’t called or messaged her all weekend, and then he had the audacity to walk in drunk in the middle of the night?
Brady stopped walking and turned to face her silhouetted in the bedroom door. “Hey, baby,” he said with an easygoing smile.
“What the hell happened to you?” Liz demanded, crossing her arms. She hated acting the part of the bitch, but she couldn’t pretend to be okay with this. If he wanted to treat her as if she was a mistress he could toss to the side when he felt like it, then he shouldn’t have fallen in love with her.
“It’s a long story,” he said, collapsing onto the couch. “Why don’t you come sit by me?” Brady leaned back and stretched his arms over his head. He sent her the most adorable smile, and she just sighed.
“I think I’d rather hear your story first. I mean, you fly me all the way here, put me up in a hotel, get me the spa treatment, and then don’t even bother to come see me. Do you know how long I waited up for you last night? How hard is it to make one little phone call, let alone send one text message?”
She shook her head, feeling all the pent-up anger wash over her.
“Look, I get that we’re not together, because it’s impossible.” She had to fight not to roll her eyes. “But if I’m going to sacrifice my time to come see you, couldn’t you at least have the decency to follow through?”