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  Grace's friend – Rose? – just laughs. "You definitely don't have a career in politics, doll. Anyone ever tell you you're a terrible liar?"

  "I don't know what you're talking about."

  "I'm her best friend," she says. "I know. You want to see her, right?"

  "Yes."

  She looks behind us at Aiden. "You too?"

  "Are you taking us to her?"

  "Depends," she says, stopping as we get to the hallway. Both of Grace's security detail stand in front of a door at the end of the hall. Grace's friend – Violet? That's it. Violet. No, Vi—crosses her arms. "Why are you here?"

  "To see her," I answer.

  She looks around before dropping her voice to a whisper. "Why?"

  "To apologize," Aiden says.

  Vi scowls. "You effed up."

  I nod. "We did."

  "She might not want to see you."

  "We know."

  She narrows her eyes. "So why should she talk to you? What are you going to say that she'd want to hear?"

  Irritation rushes through my veins, and I look around the hallway, my fists clenched into balls as I lean forward and whisper to Grace's friend. "It's none of your business what we want to tell our girl, so quit cock-blocking us and get out of the way."

  I expect her to slap me and call Grace's security detail, but she doesn't. A smile slowly spreads over her face. "I'm only getting out of your way if you're about to go in there and tell her that yourself."

  "Tell her that you're cock-blocking us?"

  "The part about her being your girl." Vi looks at Aiden. "Does that bit go for you too, hotshot?"

  Aiden's face turns pink and he shuffles awkwardly. "Yeah. Me too."

  "All right. Then I'll take you in there."

  43

  Grace

  I text Vi again while only half-listening to my father's campaign manager give me instructions.

  Are you stuck with the lobbyist? My dad is late. Now I'm going onstage a little earlier.

  "We'll just have you kick off the first speaker introduction instead of your father's. Notes are on this card." The campaign manager – I can't remember her name, my father just fired his old one for some hot-shot new one - stands in front of me wearing a no-nonsense silk suit and directing one of her assistants. "Get her a mic. No, not that one. Why would you bring her one we were having problems with earlier tonight? Get one that works, for Christ's sake." She turns toward me, her voice low. "I swear, these college interns don't know their heads from their asses."

  "I'm sure my parents will be here in a few –"

  The door opens and Vi stands there. Thank God.

  "Could I just steal her for a tiny second? I'm her designer and I need to adjust her dress." Vi asks the question in a way that's not really asking.

  "Perfect," the coordinator says as a young girl in a black cocktail dress breezes past Vi with a battery pack and a mic. "We'll just need to get you hooked up and –"

  "I can take care of the mic," Vi says, smiling sweetly. "We'll just be five minutes. That's all I need. It's really a delicate fashion issue, and I'm sure the First Daughter would prefer a bit of privacy."

  "Okay." The woman holds up the pack. "The switch is on the back. You've used a million of these, I'm sure. You'll exit there and walk out down the hallway, where we'll be waiting to escort you on stage. Don't turn the mic on – we'll do it when we get out there. It won't be a live feed until we introduce you anyway. I'll have another mic for you in case this one's a dud. I swear we've had nothing but technical problems tonight already." She whirls around, whisking the frightened-looking intern away with her and out the door.

  As soon as she leaves, Vi takes the mic pack from my hands. "I'll help you get this on, but there's someone – someones – here to see you."

  My heart races. "They cannot be back here, Vi. You need to tell them to leave."

  "Two seconds," she says, her tone leaving no room for argument. "Brooks and Davis will get them out of here before your parents even get near the building."

  "I don't want to do this here –"

  "Just hear them out, that's all." She gives me a long look. "You admitted yourself that walking out was a mistake. You were afraid. And they make you happy. Make up with them and go home and screw their brains out and be happy."

  She goes to the door, pulling it open to let Noah and Aiden step inside.

  My heart skips a few beats at the sight of both of them in tuxedos, arousal immediately flooding my body.

  "Give me one second to get this mic on her and then I'll give you some privacy," Vi says, walking over to adjust my dress.

  "You're sure that's turned off, right?" I whisper as Vi situates the pack under the back of my dress.

  "It's definitely off. I'm not even sure it's working at all, actually. The light isn't coming on. I'll grab a new one for you." Vi dashes out of the room before even waiting for me to respond.

  "I have to go out in ten minutes," I warn them. "My parents are late. I have to introduce someone and –"

  "We'll be here and gone," Noah says. "We just have something to say, all right?"

  "I –" I start. I have something to say too. I want to tell them I shouldn't have run out like that.

  "Me first," he says. "I should have told you about the fact that I was looking at offers all over the place. The truth is, I was going to, but then things kept happening with you – with the three of us – and I didn't know what the hell was going on. First I thought it was just fun, what was happening – and by the time I realized it might be something more than that, it was too late to just tell you. I'd already kept it a secret, and I thought if I told you, it would screw things up for sure. And Dallas and Miami aren't far, and I didn't think it was lying exactly."

  He runs his hand through his hair, a pained look on his face.

  "I shouldn't have just run out of there. I just– it felt like you were deliberately trying to hide it, but everyone else in the world knew about it. So I was just the idiot girl you were screwing who wasn't in on the joke."

  They walk up close to me, and I inhale sharply at their proximity, breathing them in. I'm heady just at their scent, reminded that it's been two days since I've been in their bed. Every part of my body is turned on at the thought of being between them.

  Noah slides his fingers under my jaw, turning my face up to him. "You're not the idiot girl we're fucking."

  "We royally screwed up by not telling you," Aiden says, his hand going up to my hair, tucking an errant strand behind my ear before grazing my neck with his palm, sending goose bumps over my skin. "I screwed up as much as he did. You should have known from the beginning, gone in with eyes open."

  "It's just– this whole thing has been insane," I say, my words already breathy. I close my eyes as Aiden's hand moves down my arm, as my body responds immediately to their touch. "You're backstage here– at a charity event where my parents are going to show up any second. You can't be here. And I don't think I would have even risked it if I knew you were just leaving and–"

  They don't let me finish talking. Noah puts his hands on the sides of my dress, hiking it up over my thighs as I let out a little squeal, then picks me up and carries me to the nearest wall, pushing my back up hard against it. The mic pack digs into my back, but I don't care.

  My breath catches in my throat as he puts his lips against mine, and my body responds to his touch. I let out a moan as he slides to his knees in his tuxedo, pushing my thighs further apart. His fingertips graze the fabric covering my pussy. "Your panties are all wet," he whispers, but it's more like a groan.

  "I'm wet, and I have to go in ten– eight– minutes," I whisper. "And neither of you should be here."

  "We want– no, we need– to apologize," Aiden says. Standing beside me, he turns my face toward his to kiss me hard on the mouth, his tongue seeking out mine as Noah slides his finger under the fabric of my panties. I let out a long, desperate moan into Aiden's mouth.

  "I need to apologi