Party of Two: The brilliant opposites-attract rom-com from the author of The Proposal!

by Jasmine Guillory

  “What are you laughing at?” she said to Alexa.

  “Oh, nothing,” Alexa said, with that same smug look she’d gotten since she was a toddler and was telling on her older sister. “It’s just that gooey look on your face makes it very clear who you just got a text from.”

  It was even more annoying when her sister was right.

  “I don’t . . .” She was about to say “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” like she would have said twenty years ago, but realized that was ridiculous. They both knew exactly what Alexa was talking about. So instead she just let her smile get as gooey as she wanted it to. “He says he’s almost done with his dinner and hopes we’re having fun.”

  Alexa’s whole face softened.

  “Oh, that’s so nice.”

  Olivia sighed and dropped her phone on the table.

  “He is so nice, that’s the problem with him, Lex! He’s so nice! He’s smart! He’s generous! He’s attractive! He’s rich! He’s funny! He’s perfect!” Now she rolled her eyes at herself. “Okay, fine, that’s an exaggeration, but you know what I mean. What happened to me?”

  Alexa put her hands down on the table.

  “Are you telling me that in the three or whatever months you’ve been dating this man, you haven’t discovered any of his flaws?”

  Olivia took the glass of wine Drew handed her.

  “No, it’s even worse—I’ve seen plenty of his flaws! He’s hotheaded, he’s impulsive, he has an enormous ego! He’s used to the whole world doing his bidding, in a way he doesn’t even realize; he’s incredibly privileged, which he sort of realizes, but not anywhere to the degree he needs to. Also, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him eat a vegetable. And his shoes are all just impossibly ugly. He has these old brown suede shoes he wore one day straight from the airplane and I realized he was on the actual Senate floor with those things on and I wanted to throw them in the garbage immediately, but I don’t think we’re at a place yet where I can do that. But the bad part is, I know all of that, and I still get that fucking gooey look on my face when he texts me! I can tell I get it! I try not to get it! But the goo just spreads over my face and I can’t make it stop!”

  Now Alexa and Drew were laughing so hard they couldn’t speak, and Olivia joined in.

  “I know this all sounds so stupid,” she said as soon as they all recovered.

  Drew shook his head.

  “It doesn’t sound stupid at all. It sounds exactly like how I felt when I met this one.” He poked her sister in the arm. “At least you’re being more mature about it than I was, and you’re not pretending you’re not falling for him.” He reached across the table and pushed her phone toward her. “Text him back. Tell him we’re almost done with dinner and you’ll be on your way to the hotel soon.”

  She picked up the phone and smiled at him.

  “I’m glad my sister married you.”

  Drew reached for Alexa’s hand.

  “I’m glad your sister married me, too,” he said. “What hotel is your senator boyfriend staying at?”

  Olivia grinned.

  “The Fairmont.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Olivia walked into the hotel lobby and checked her texts for Max’s room number.

  Just getting on the elevator!

  She got off the elevator without incident and walked down the hall to his room. But before she could even knock on the door of room 1624, the door swung open.

  “There you are.” Max grabbed her arm and pulled her inside.

  “Here I am,” she said as they wrapped their arms around each other.

  “I missed you so much.” He traced her face with his fingertips, like he was memorizing it.

  “I missed you, too,” she said. She ran her fingers through his hair. It was slightly longer than normal—he usually got a haircut from the same guy in L.A. every three weeks on Saturday mornings, and tomorrow was his regular haircut day, so it would have to wait until next weekend. It felt ridiculous, and wonderful, that she knew that.

  “It feels like it’s been forever since I’ve seen you,” he said. He pulled her silk blouse out from where it was tucked into her jeans and unbuttoned the first button.

  “It was only a week ago,” she said. Why did she still always go breathless when he touched her like this?

  He nodded and unbuttoned two more buttons.

  “I know. But I spent two days thinking I would have to go two weeks without seeing you. I can’t even tell you how much I missed you those days.” He dropped a gentle kiss on her lips as he unbuttoned another button. “It made me realize a week is my limit.”

  Maybe that was why she’d missed him so much this week, too.

  “Did you have fun with your sister?” he asked as he stroked her cheek.

  She smiled as he kissed her earlobe.

  “I did. I finally told her about us, and she freaked out. And . . .” Damn it, she had to tell him this part when he wasn’t distracted. “Max, wait, hold on a second.”

  He pulled back a few inches but kept hold of her waist.

  “Why, is something wrong?”

  She shook her head.

  “Not wrong, exactly, but I should warn you—my sister’s boss is going to be at that fundraiser tomorrow night. Which means . . .”

  He dropped his head on her shoulder.

  “Which means your sister is going to be at the fundraiser, too. And you’re not.”

  She ran her fingers through his hair again. She liked it a little too long like this.

  “Exactly. Sorry to spring this on you at the last minute. She’s very nice!”

  He stood up straight and laughed.

  “Oh, I’m sure she’s very nice, just like you are, and a shark, just like you are, too.”

  Well, Olivia couldn’t disagree with that.

  “It’ll be fine! Though I wish I could be there to see this.” She kissed him on the cheek. “How was the event today? And the dinner tonight?” she asked him.

  He reached for her buttons again.

  “Great, and very boring, in that order. But that last part doesn’t matter, because I have you with me right now. I’ll tell you all about both after.”

  She raised her eyebrows at him.

  “After what?” she asked.

  He unbuttoned her last button.

  “After I pull your clothes off, throw you onto that big bed over there, and have my way with you for hours, woman who asks silly questions.”

  He unzipped her jeans and pushed them over her hips onto the floor as she giggled. Then he bent down and threw her over his shoulder, which only made her giggle harder.

  “Oh my God, what are you doing? If you throw out your back because of me and you’re out of commission for weeks, I’m going to feel so guilty!”

  He walked across the room with a few strides and tossed her onto the huge bed. She laid back on the pillows and smiled at him as he pulled his own clothes off and dropped them to the floor.

  “It would be worth it,” he said as he landed on the bed next to her. “It’s too fun to surprise you to restrain myself just for fear of my aging back.”

  Olivia turned to look at him, and before he could move, she pushed him down, flipped over, and knelt over him.

  “Now it’s my turn.” She smiled down at him, and at the surprised—and aroused—look on his face.

  She kissed him hard, and he kissed her back just as hard. All of her longing and frustration and confusion and joy about him came out in that kiss. He was everything she wanted, he was everything she wasn’t sure she could have, he was everything she was unsure about, he was everything that made her happy.

  “You’re so fucking incredible,” he said as he reached around to unclasp her bra. “Sometimes I don’t believe you’re real.”

  He pulled her bra off and caressed her breasts in just the way she loved. He’d figured that out so fast.

  “Likewise,” she said as he slid down so he could suck her nipples into his mouth. When she felt the
gentle scrape of his teeth against her nipple, she moaned, and then caught herself.

  “Oh shit,” she said in a whisper. “Do we have to be quiet? Do the people on either side of you know who you are?”

  He pulled back, but kept her nipples between his fingers.

  “I don’t think they do, but . . . just to be safe, we should probably be quiet.” He grinned. “I guess I should have thought of that before throwing you on the bed, huh?” He danced his tongue around one breast while he squeezed the other. She held her lips together so she wouldn’t cry out.

  “Thank goodness this bed has so many pillows for me to scream into,” she said.

  He pulled her underwear down with one hand, and she kicked them onto the floor.

  “I’m going to make it my goal for you to need all of those pillows,” he said. He slid a finger inside of her, hard, and she gasped. His thumb moved in first slow, then fast circles, with his other hand still squeezing her nipples. Dear God, it felt incredible.

  Then, suddenly, it wasn’t enough. She reached down to stroke the hard length of him, and it was his turn to gasp.

  “I need you inside me now.” Sure enough, he’d left a pile of condoms on the bedside table. She grabbed one and opened it. “I knew you’d be prepared.”

  “I was waiting for you for a while, okay? I didn’t want to waste time!”

  She grinned and slid the condom on him and then lowered herself until he was poised just at her entrance. He rose up to meet her, pushed himself inside of her, and soon they were moving in sync, so fast and so hard she could barely breathe, she could barely think, she could only feel. And then everything felt so good that she could hardly move, but she had to keep moving and moving until there were fireworks behind her eyes and she smashed a pillow to her face to scream into it.

  No wonder she’d missed him so much. Had anything ever felt this good? Had anything ever felt so right? She collapsed on top of him, and he wrapped his arms around her.

  “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he whispered in her ear.

  Why did that make her feel even better than the sex had?

  The next day, after a lazy breakfast in bed and some enthusiastic postbreakfast exercise, Max reached over and tickled Olivia.

  “What are we going to do for the rest of the day?” he asked.

  She looked back at him with a slow, satisfied smile.

  “I thought you were booked with senator stuff all day,” she said.

  He reached for his phone and pulled up his calendar.

  “Not until midafternoon—I’m doing some local news interviews and then the fundraiser, but I’m free before that.”

  She pulled his arm around her and rested her head on his chest.

  “I was going to head over to Berkeley this afternoon to get a mani/pedi with my sister, so it looks like our free time coincides. What do you want to do?”

  He brushed her hair back and kissed her forehead.

  “Weeell, we could stay here all day.”

  “I knew you were going to say that.” He could hear the smile in her voice. “Any other ideas?”

  “Hmmmm. Ooh! Yes!” He squeezed her hand. “I’ve taken you to some of my favorite L.A. places—how about you do the same for some of your Bay Area spots? It’s only ten a.m., so we have a few hours before I have to get back here to change and turn into a senator again.”

  She sat up and turned to look at him with that smile he loved so much, the one where he could see the tiny dimple in her cheek.

  “What a great idea.” Her smile got wider. “And I know exactly where I’m going to take you.”

  Forty-five minutes later, they stood facing each other on a squeaky BART train. Olivia smiled up at him, a wicked expression on her face.

  “When’s the last time you were on public transportation, hmm?” she asked him in a low voice.

  Embarrassingly, he had to think about that.

  “It’s got to have been at least . . . five years, maybe? Probably more. Oh God, that’s terrible, but I always drive everywhere in L.A. anyway, so it must have been some time when I was up here or somewhere else for a conference.”

  Olivia laughed at him.

  “Well, at least you look like you’re blending in.”

  He looked down at himself and shook his head. He didn’t have any of his fake glasses or his baseball hats with him on this trip, so he’d had to improvise so he wouldn’t get recognized. Jeans, T-shirt, and one of the tech company branded vests he’d been given at the dinner last night. With that, plus his unshaven face, he hoped he could pass as a tech bro.

  They got off at Fruitvale Station in Oakland and walked around for a while until they reached a taco truck with a long, noisy line.

  “Here we are!” Olivia parked them at the end of the line. “Best tacos in the Bay Area. Maybe all of California.”

  “That’s a bold statement, don’t you think?” Max asked her.

  She nodded.

  “Oh, very bold, and obviously there are some incredible tacos in L.A., which which is why it’s debatable, but you’ll see when you have them how good they are.”

  He put his arm around her as they waited in line.

  “I guess I will. But I thought you didn’t like places you had to stand in line to eat?”

  She brushed that off.

  “Taco trucks are different, you know that.”

  He didn’t argue with her. Right now, he couldn’t think of a place he’d rather be than standing here with her, in the sunshine, with nowhere he had to be for hours.

  He leaned down and kissed her cheek.

  “This was a great idea,” he said.

  They’d been standing there for about ten minutes, inching closer and closer to the tacos, when Olivia felt Max stand up straight.

  And then, very slowly, he leaned over to whisper in her ear.

  “I just realized that I know the woman standing right behind us. She’s a reporter with the San Francisco Chronicle, she’s interviewed me a few times. I don’t quite look like my senator self today, but . . .”

  Olivia froze, and then nodded slowly.

  “Okay. Um, do you want to go?”

  Max looked at her like she’d asked him if the sky looked green.

  “And deny myself the chance to have the best tacos in the Bay Area, maybe all of California? Are you kidding me?” He pressed his lips together and paused for a moment. “But do you want to go? We can if you want to.”

  She thought about that for a minute. The smart thing to do would be to leave right now, so the reporter didn’t recognize Max and blow their secret. Especially because the two of them had been standing there hand in hand for the past ten minutes; it would be pretty obvious to anyone who saw them that they were together. They never did that when they were out in public together in L.A., but somehow in the Bay Area, away from their regular lives, it felt like they could do whatever they wanted. And she didn’t want to stop. She shook her head.

  “We came all this way. And the tacos smell so good.” She put her hand on his stubbly cheek. She kind of liked him all scruffy like this. “Don’t you have an embarrassing cousin who lives in the Bay Area anyway? Peter, right? He works in advertising or something?”

  He kissed her on the cheek and smiled at her.

  “Mmm, yes, yes I do, thanks for reminding me.”

  Max kept his back to the reporter for the next five minutes until they got to the front of the line, and Olivia kept trying to remember to call him Peter, which just made them both giggle. Max ordered two of everything on the menu, which she’d known he would do before they even discussed it, and they claimed a corner of a picnic table.

  “Are we going to take the tacos to go, or eat here and tough it out?” Max asked her.

  She grinned at him.

  “We’ve come this far, haven’t we?”

  He reached for her hand and held on tight.

  “I’m so glad we have,” he said.

  She looked into his warm,
kind, mischievous eyes.

  “Me, too,” she said.

  Max felt that usual burst of adrenaline as he strode into the hotel and toward the ballroom for the fundraiser. He loved this part of his job. He gave a damn good speech, and he knew it, and he knew he was going to do it tonight, too. He turned to grin at his two staff members who were there with him, and then sighed. Georgia and Zachary were both great at their jobs, but he wished he had Olivia next to him tonight instead.

  That morning and afternoon together had been so fun and relaxed, he’d wished it didn’t have to end. She’d looked so happy when they finished their pile of tacos that he hadn’t wanted to leave her. He was really glad, though, that she’d be there in the hotel waiting for him tonight, after this fundraiser was over. Even though he enjoyed events like this, they took a lot out of him. That wasn’t something he’d expected when he first started a life in politics. He’d always been an extrovert, he’d always been good at parties, but political events were on a whole different plane than anything else he’d experienced. He had to be on all the time; he had to give every single person who wanted to talk to him his full attention; he had to show them all the Max Powell they’d come for. And it wasn’t that he resented any of that—he wanted to do that, he liked meeting people, he wanted to hear their stories and give of himself to them. But he hadn’t realized how exhausting it would be, every time. He was glad he wasn’t going to have to go back to a lonely hotel room tonight.

  He walked into the greenroom and snapped his mind away from Olivia and onto this fundraiser tonight. After the parade of likely boring speeches, it would be a zoo of picture taking with donors, and glad-handing and chatting with all of the other politicians in the room. These things were part of the job in any election year, even one where he wasn’t up for reelection. Thank goodness Wes would be at this one—not that they’d even get to really talk to each other, but at least he’d have someone to make eye contact with when one of the speeches got boring, or annoying, or laughable, which happened every single time.

  After the usual rigmarole with the organizers, they ushered him onstage, where the governor introduced him to lots of cheering. Max went on and gave an abbreviated version of the same speech he’d been giving at these things all year—he always tried to keep his speeches short, punchy, and just a little funny. He ended on a laugh line, waved at the crowd, and went backstage with a smile on his face, while their laughter echoed behind him. He walked past a group of press, and . . . yep, that reporter from the taco truck was there. He grinned as he made his way into the reception area.