Broken Record Page 13

  “I can handle Brady,” Lucas said.

  “Well, it’s your funeral.”

  “Lucas,” Brady said, appearing at her side like an overbearing father figure.

  He held his hand out, and Lucas shook it amicably.

  “Good to see you, Brady. How’s it going?”

  “Good. Why don’t you come inside, so we can have a quick chat?”

  Savannah could hear Liz laughing in the other room.

  “Or how about no?” Savannah said. “You’ve known Lucas his whole life.”

  “That is why I have concerns,” Brady said.

  Lucas laughed. “It’s different with Savi.”

  “It’d better be.”

  “I’ll have her back before she turns into a pumpkin,” he promised with a grin.

  “He’s not my dad. Let’s not make any promises,” she said with a snort, nudging Brady out of the way. She smiled up at him. “We’ll be fine.”

  Brady returned the look. “It’s good to see you smile. Have fun.”

  She realized he was right. It was good to smile. Really smile. And not just something she was putting on for other people…or even herself.

  She kissed her brother’s cheek. “I love you. See you later.”

  Brady watched them walk out to Lucas’s awaiting Range Rover before he closed the door behind them.

  “He’s so protective,” she grumbled.

  “Hey, be glad for that. It means he cares.”

  “Even though he was an ass to you?”

  “He wasn’t an ass. He was just…Brady.” Lucas shrugged and opened the door to his SUV.

  “Shiny new digs,” she said, admiring the car.

  “Signing bonuses do come in handy.”

  “Is that what this is?”

  She and Lucas had never really talked about the draft or anything involved. At least, not since high school when becoming a professional basketball player had been a pipe dream.

  “I know they say not to buy a brand-new car and to learn how to invest your money and all that,” he said with a lazy shrug, “but I couldn’t help myself.”

  “And that,” she said, poking his chest, “is how you get into financial troubles later down the line.”

  He snorted. “I think I’ll be okay, Savi.”

  She realized that she hadn’t moved. That she was just standing there in front of him with the door to his car open. The oppressive July heat beat down on them with so much humidity that she could practically drink the water. And yet, she took a step closer, tilted her head up to look at him, and bit her lip.

  “Are you sure about this?” Savannah asked.

  He didn’t bullshit her. He didn’t try to undercut the question she was asking. He didn’t make a joke out of it. Instead, he just brought his hand up to her jaw, threaded his fingers up into her hair, and said, “I’m sure.”

  She swallowed, captivated by that look. “It’s just…we’ve known each other forever.”

  “It’s because we’ve known each other our entire lives that I want to make it clear that this is different.”

  “True. But…I don’t know if it’s silly.”

  “I told you that we were going to do this the right way. And we’re doing it the right way,” Lucas insisted, trailing his thumb down the column of her throat. She swallowed, her heart pulsing in response. “Which means I’m taking my girlfriend out on our first date.”

  She reined in the desire that rocketed through her when he touched her. “I suppose…I can’t argue with that.”

  “That’s right,” he said.

  A grin touched his features. He must have realized his effect on her. How her whole body leaned into him and trembled with the need for him. He bent down and roughly captured her lips against his own. She felt it in that kiss—his own lack of control. The wild thing between them that ignited upon contact. It was what made them run so hot every time they were together. It sparked fierce arguments as often as hot fucking.

  She released a slow breath when he pulled back. His own breathing was hitched.

  “We should…go,” he said slowly. “Or else we won’t make the theater.”

  Her eyes fluttered open. “The theater?”

  He grinned. “Now, I have your attention.”

  “You had it a second ago.”

  Reluctantly, he took a step back, putting some distance between them. “As much as you make me want to ruin all my plans, I would like to take you out.”

  She nodded. She saw how much this meant to him. He’d wanted these real dates all the way back in high school. Then, they’d spent the next four years with this insufferable back and forth. She wouldn’t let their aching, pent-up sex drive screw up their plans.

  “All right.” She turned from him and got in the car.

  He snapped the door shut behind her and jogged around to the other side of the car. Once they were driving down the familiar DC roads with his favorite tunes playing in the car, Savannah was able to relax. One touch, one kiss awakened something between them. It was primal. And as much as she wanted to give in to it, she knew that they weren’t ready. Not if this was going to last.

  Lucas pulled up to the front of the Kennedy Center in downtown DC. It was an enormous ’70s-era building on the Potomac, throwing distance from the Lincoln Memorial. Savannah had been here a dozen times with her family over the years and never seemed to get over the grandeur. While some people thought that the building was outdated with its garish red and gold interior with bright pipe-like columns and glittering, circular chandeliers, Savannah still loved it. The place was attached to too many happy memories for her to see anything else.

  She strode inside with Lucas at her side, her hand in the crook of his elbow. And for those moments, she felt like Cinderella going to the ball. As if this was too surreal to be true. That she and Lucas could actually have a normal evening out despite all the hateful words they’d thrown at each other over the years.

  After Lucas got them both a drink, Savannah veered toward the boxes without thinking. That was where her family had sat in the past. She had always felt like a queen looking out over her subjects. A bit removed. More to be seen than to actually watch the show. She’d found it almost sad that where you sat mattered more than what you saw.

  But Lucas snagged her elbow before she could take another step. “This way.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “But the boxes are over here.”

  “And I know you hate them,” he smoothly told her.

  “I don’t…hate them.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “The view isn’t as good. You complain the entire time that you can only see three-quarters of the stage. That isn’t something a guy can forget. I mean…even when he is subjected to a four-hour opera.”

  “So…where?”

  He directed her through the main double doors and down the aisle toward the orchestra. His eyes scanned their tickets before coming up on a row about twenty rows from the stage, dead center.

  Savannah’s eyes glittered with excitement. These were her favorite seats. She hadn’t been to the theater with Lucas since she was eighteen, and somehow, he still knew that this was what she preferred. She’d been vocal about it in the past, but it seemed exactly the kind of thing that a guy who hated opera would forget.

  “Thank you,” she breathed, sinking into her seat. “For remembering.”

  He took the seat next to her and nodded to the stage. “It could have been you up there.”

  She snorted. “No way. I wasn’t any good. I just loved it.”

  “Sometimes, that makes all the difference.”

  “It cannot make up for my lack of vocal training or my half-assed acting skills. I was good enough for small-town theater, maybe for The Triangle, but never Broadway. Hobbies can just be hobbies, you know. We don’t all have to become professional basketball players.”

  “Let’s hope not. I don’t need any more competition,” he said as he lazily slung an arm across the back of her chair.

  Sa
vannah relaxed against him and sipped her champagne. Soon, the rest of the theater filed inside, and the lights dimmed, announcing the beginning of the show. The room quieted, the curtain was drawn, and suddenly, she was completely engrossed in the musical version of Aladdin.

  By the time intermission hit, her cheeks hurt from smiling so much. She had forgotten how much she adored musicals, having completely devoted her life to the newspaper the last four years. She’d hardly had time to do anything else. And it felt freeing to indulge in something she had loved so much once.

  She followed Lucas out of the theater during intermission and onto the outdoor terrace that overlooked the river. It was grand and beautiful, lit up by the theater behind her and the city in front of her. The Lincoln Memorial and Washington Monument were beacons in the night, standing tall against the flat DC skyline.

  Carts had been wheeled out for patrons to purchase beverages or snacks. Savannah could remember begging for candy from her mother and her father indulging her despite her mother saying no. So many memories. Growing up as a politician’s daughter felt like being split in two. Half her heart always in beautiful Chapel Hill and half her heart here in this political swampland.

  “I’m going to get us another drink. I’ll be right back,” Lucas said, their lips brushing against each other before he maneuvered into the line.

  She strolled toward the edge of the terrace and leaned against the railing. She had been worried about tonight, but Lucas had been beyond charming. It was amazing what they could both accomplish when they weren’t screaming at each other.

  She turned around and searched him out in the crowd. Her eyes falling across his broad shoulders in that well-fitted suit. The short hair he’d cut again recently that she was still getting used to after it had been long and shaggy for years. The sharp jawline and hollowed cheeks. The way his pants tailored down to his narrow hips. But it was something else. A confidence that he had, a swagger. Like he knew that everything was going to work out in his world. It was one she was familiar with and found incredibly attractive. Her blood pumped faster as her eyes crawled down his form. And his eyes skittered across to hers as if drawn like a magnet. A slow, knowing smile crossed his lips. As if he knew exactly what she had been thinking about.

  She flushed and broke the gaze. Lucas Atwood made her want to forgo the second half and head straight home.

  She was disrupted from her thoughts by an older gentleman with silver hair and a kind smile sidling up to her at the edge of the terrace.

  “I know a Maxwell when I see one,” he said.

  Her heart stopped altogether. “Is that…so?” she asked cautiously.

  “You probably don’t remember me,” the man said, extending a hand. “Senator Billy Chambliss. I’ve known your father for many years. A great man.”

  Billy Chambliss. Of course. Her father played golf with him. He’d come to their house in Chapel Hill a time or two. Now that she looked at him with fresh eyes, she realized she did recognize him.

  “Senator Chambliss, of course,” she said, shaking his hand. “It’s so nice to see you.”

  And then Lucas materialized out of thin air at her shoulder. “Here you go.”

  She gratefully took the champagne from him and gestured to the man before her. “Lucas, this is Senator Chambliss from Massachusetts. He’s friends with my father. Senator, this is my boyfriend, Lucas Atwood.”

  The two men shook hands.

  Lucas smiled. “Pleasure to meet you, sir.”

  “Atwood you say?” Senator Chambliss said with a knowing look. “You wouldn’t be Matthew Atwood’s boy, would you?”

  Lucas nodded. “That’d be me.”

  “He’s a brilliant strategist, your father. He and the Maxwells go way back.”

  Lucas put an arm around Savannah’s shoulders. “That’s true. They’ve been friends their whole lives.”

  “Well, it’s a real treat, running into you young folks. I don’t want to take up more of your time.” Senator Chambliss smiled at them both. “Tell your fathers I said hello. And that brother of yours,” he said to Savannah.

  “I will definitely let my father and Brady know.”

  The senator winked at them and then hurried back to his awaiting wife, daughter, and three proud grandchildren.

  “Ready to go back inside?” Lucas asked, reaching for a hand.

  For a second, she just stared up at him. Not in surprise exactly but in relief. Being a Maxwell had never been easy for her. Not like Brady, who was the perfect son, or Clay, who reveled in the notoriety. She’d wanted to be anonymous in a world where she never could be. There was no chance of it in her existence. Not with her father in politics. Definitely not now with Brady joining him in Congress.

  And that interaction with Senator Chambliss, however inconsequential it had been, would have normally sent her anxiety ratcheting up. But it was clear that dealing with someone recognizing her as Savannah Maxwell was a hell of a lot easier with Lucas.

  She had always feared—however subconsciously or unconsciously—that her name meant something to other people. Just the fact that she was a Maxwell meant that she worried about people seeing her like that…using her for it.

  It was half the reason that she’d refused any help from her father to get her a job at The Washington Post. Or why she frequently didn’t tell people her last name for as long as possible. Or why she cringed, thinking of a Maxwell byline in the newspaper.

  She knew that it was her problem and no one else’s. Born from years and years of the deeply ingrained political daughter’s routine. The way she was treated differently than her brothers. That made her want to hide the part of her that was known and just be her.

  But for the first time maybe ever, she didn’t feel like she had to hide.

  Lucas hadn’t even blinked an eye about her being noticed. Or about the fact that the senator also knew his father. He didn’t care that his father worked for her father. Actually, nothing at all about that brief interaction had seemed to bother Lucas Atwood.

  And her heart grew when she realized that she would never have to feel that way again.

  20

  I Know You

  Savannah released Lucas’s hand so that he could fit the key into the lock of his apartment door. She’d had another glass of champagne at the theater, and she promptly tipped over from tipsy and straight into giggly. Lucas found it endearing and insisted he get her home. She suggested otherwise. He hadn’t resisted.

  She leaned back against the wall outside of his apartment as he turned the lock and thrust the door open.

  “Home sweet home,” he said.

  “I think I had one too many,” she said, not moving from where she was standing with her heel pressed into the wall and her hands in her dark hair.

  He stepped forward. His body towering over her in a way that did nothing but make heat pool in her core. “I can take care of you.”

  She met his gaze. It wasn’t what she had thought he would say. “How exactly do you plan to take care of me?” A dirty smirk crossed her features.

  His hands moved forward to cage her in, and he leaned down close to her face. “If you look at me like that, I’m a goner, Savi.”

  Then, he fitted his mouth to hers. Soft and exploring. Gentle yet monumental. He had touched and kissed her any number of times this evening. But this was different. This was coaxing and questioning. Like holding a bird in your hand and hoping it would fly. There was something in this kiss she had never had from him before—hope.

  “We should go inside,” she said when he finally pulled back.

  “Yes.” His breathing was uneven. A muscle flickered in his neck. Barely contained control.

  He took her hand again and drew her away from the wall. She followed him into his apartment, where he promptly closed and locked the door. She had been here once before—when she came to tell him about her ended engagement. But she hadn’t been inside. She’d only made it as far as the front door before going to the gym, wher
e he basically lived anyway.

  She surveyed the apartment. It was new, fresh, and modern with the space purposely sparse. As if someone had taken quite a lot of time to decorate his place so that it had that not-quite-lived-in look.

  “Huh,” she said, discarding her heels in the doorway and continuing inside.

  “I know,” he muttered. “Alice got her hands on it.”

  Savannah snorted. “Oh God, I guess we should be thankful this is the least of what your little sister did to your apartment. She could have gone full-blown emo on it.”

  “She wanted to. And I told her she couldn’t try out her new interior design skills on it if she went all black and sad.” Lucas shrugged. “She’s actually really good for someone who is only sixteen.”

  “She’s always been into that though,” Savannah said as she took a seat on a barstool. “Don’t you remember when she redecorated the Hilton Head bedroom we shared without speaking to my parents first?”

  Lucas slipped out of his suit jacket and slung it across the back of a chair. “I remember the fallout for sure.”

  Lucas headed into the kitchen and poured her a glass of water. He slid it across the bar to her before taking out a bottle of scotch.

  “I get water, and you get scotch?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You had one too many.”

  She huffed at him repeating back her words, but she drank the water. He was right. She didn’t need to be drunk to be around Lucas. That had been the Savannah who had a boyfriend and knew she shouldn’t be around Lucas. Not the one in his apartment, currently dating him.

  “You’re thinking deeply about something,” he said, sipping on his scotch.

  “Thanks for not being weird about Senator Chambliss approaching me.”

  He furrowed his brow. “Why would I have been weird about that?”

  “Oh…you know.”

  “Do I?” he asked.

  “People always recognize me…or at least, the name.”

  “I’ve known you for years. That always happens to the Maxwells. It’s not weird, Savi. It’s just how it is.”

  “Sometimes, it feels like it is.”