Quarterback's Virgin

by Ivy Jordan

  “How can she help answer these questions?” the press secretary pushed.

  “She can help you answer the questions that will be asked. That’s why she is here. She is the best,” Adam said, his glance at me too long, too loving, too much.

  “That is all I have for you right now. Hopefully, I can answer more questions later today,” Adam assured them, motioning for everyone to leave him.

  I hated that our events, the ones where I was scheduled to be by his side, alone, had been canceled. This outburst of terrorism had been isolated to one event, but it was scary that it had made its way to a secured military base.

  The country was in an uproar, feeling that there was no protection, and this new president, this young president, wasn’t doing anything to make it safer.

  I knew the weight he carried on his shoulders, and my heart ached that I couldn’t be closer to him through it all.

  I left the room with the rest of the advisors and staff that had clearance for the meeting. The press secretary grabbed onto my arm, pulling me to him for the details Adam had promised.

  There wasn’t much I could offer, other than a way to avoid answering certain questions and how to answer the ones that were inevitable.

  “Can I speak with you?” Michael asked, pulling me away from the intense drilling I was dealing with at the moment.

  I walked with Michael down the long hallway lined with red carpet. We stopped in a secluded hallway, him pulling me aside. “Is there something going on I should know about?” he asked.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  His eyes rolled back into his head and he let out a sigh. “Seriously?” he asked, staring directly into my eyes.

  “I will let you know anything that is important,” I said softly, knowing exactly what he was asking me.

  “I think the information you are holding back could very well be very important,” he whispered loudly.

  “I’m not holding back anything that matters. When it does, if it ever does matter, you will be the first to know,” I said, smiling, and quickly turning to walk back to the Oval Office.

  Adam leaned against his desk. He was alone, not only physically, but in his lost world of thoughts. I hated it. I wanted to comfort him, to be there for him, but things were growing more and more complicated each day.

  “We have to cool it,” I said quickly.

  “Cool it? I’ve been taking cold showers for two weeks,” he chuckled, making light of the stress I felt.

  “I’m serious,” I said sternly.

  His eyes widened and filled with confusion. “What’s wrong? I’m doing everything your way,” he insisted.

  “I think we are more obvious than we realize,” I explained.

  He moved towards me as I backed up, pinning my back against the curve of the wall.

  “You’re just paranoid. The situation right now has everyone on edge,” he stated.

  He was right. But that didn’t change what I knew. What I knew, and couldn’t tell him. Michael knew—that was obvious—but Adam didn’t need that burden, not now.

  “I’m not paranoid,” I replied.

  He was pressed against me, pinning me to the wall with his arms on either side of me. Damn, he smelled so fucking good.

  “I think you are,” he said softly.

  “Your Secret Servicemen brought you to Rowena’s. They know,” I said.

  He chuckled. “They are hired and trained to know nothing other than what they are told to know,” he said.

  “For the right price, anyone will talk,” I snapped.

  Adam pulled away, took a couple steps back, and stared into my eyes.

  “I don’t want to lose you, Quinn,” he said softly.

  I didn’t want to lose him, either. But I couldn’t live with myself knowing I caused him any harm. I no longer cared about my reputation. That’s the moment I knew I was in love with Adam Andrews, the president of the United States.

  Chapter Seven

  “This mess has really split the country,” Rowena said, surfing through the news stations on the TV.

  “I know,” I sighed, sinking into the couch.

  I already knew things were starting to look up, at least for Adam, but I couldn’t say anything.

  “When is the press meeting?” she asked.

  “In about ten minutes,” I told her, knowing the rest of the country would find out when their favorite comedy show was interrupted.

  “Why aren’t you there?” she asked, her eyes pressing into my soul.

  I hated that I’d kept all this from her. I’d never kept secrets from my sister.

  “I’ve done my part,” I said calmly.

  Even after Adam announced that they’d identified and captured the party responsible for the attack, there was still a tear in the country, and it would take a lot of work to repair it.

  Us, that wasn’t an option, at least not as far as I could see. It had to end. He was destined to do great things, not only for himself, but for the entire world. I couldn’t be the woman who cost him his second term.

  “Are you okay?” Rowena asked, turning down the volume on the TV.

  I smiled while I struggled to pull myself together. I wasn’t okay. I knew that, and she knew that. I had to tell her why.

  Tears rolled down my cheeks as she quickly moved towards me with open arms. I confessed to the relationship, and to the feelings I was having. “I can’t be the cause to any of his pain,” I cried in my sister’s arms.

  “So, you love him?” she asked.

  I pulled back, wiped my tears from my cheeks, and nodded. I did. I hadn’t told him, I hadn’t said it aloud, but I did.

  “It sounds like he feels the same way about you. He’s not concerned with himself, only you,” she insisted.

  “His reputation has been so fragile. I can’t risk him losing a chance at another term, or worse, having the people distrust him during this one,” I sighed.

  Adam appeared on the TV screen, pulling Rowena’s attention from me for a moment as she watched and listened. His speech was perfectly delivered just as I’d written it, and he used all the proper body language to portray honesty, strength, and most importantly, humanity.

  “It looks like he’s doing just fine,” Rowena said. “Thanks to you,” she added with a smile.

  “So, they’ll just hate me. That won’t help anything either. He needs me,” I sighed.

  Rowena laughed. “Why would they hate you?” she asked.

  “Americans always need a villain,” I argued.

  My sister rolled her eyes and tightened her lips as she shook her head. “You’ve spent so much time dealing with negative media; you’ve forgotten what positive media is like,” she said sternly.

  I wasn’t sure I understood.

  “Americans are humans. Humans love a good story, and trust me, they aren’t always looking for the bad in it,” she insisted.

  “This is the government,” I growled.

  “How many good stories come from the government?” she laughed.

  I couldn’t think of anything.

  “Exactly,” she said after my long pause.

  “Quinn, you are the best writer, personal marketer, and media spinner I know,” she said.

  That was quite the compliment coming from Rowena. She’d worked with writers from all genres, and as an editor, she was trained to see flaws others would miss.

  “What are you saying?” I asked.

  “I’m saying, if you love him, and he loves you, spin this love story into something amazing like I know you can. Quit hiding from it, embrace it, and give the people what they deserve from the government for once: the truth,” she suggested.

  “But what if this love story doesn’t have a happily ever after?” I asked.

  “Then you deal with it then. Stay truthful and people will stay loyal,” she advised.

  Adam was still answering questions on the screen, all of which I had anticipated and prepped him for. My heart swelled. What if she was r
ight? Could this be something real?

  “You both deserve something good in your life,” Rowena said, clicking the TV off as Adam answered his last question. “Did you just see what happened there?” she asked, glancing towards the television.

  “What?” I asked, confused about her point.

  “I know you well enough to know you spent hours making sure those were the questions asked, and that he knew exactly how to answer them,” she insisted.

  She wasn’t wrong. My ear hurt from hours on the phone with networks and papers, talking to the key players about what they were after. I’d planted seeds for weeks, worked out special deals, exclusives, and a bundle of other promises to ensure certain questions would be asked. Adam, as well as the press secretary, had a list of reporters to call upon, and in what order. I couldn’t make them ask anything, or even imply what I wanted them to ask. But I could get into their heads and work my PR magic. Maybe I could do that with Adam and me.

  Chapter Eight

  The next week was a whirlwind, filled with meeting after meeting, and press conferences back to back. Adam had proved to be a powerful leader, not only efficient, but fair. Those who opposed his closed borders were finally sliding back toward his side once they saw him open them back up with fair and protective rules in place.

  There were still a few groups that mocked him, challenged him, and did their best to smear his image, but that was part of the title.

  “I’m really proud of you,” I said, sneaking into his office alone.

  His Secret Servicemen were obliged to give me entry whenever I asked, something Adam insisted upon, even though they protested.

  He moved toward me quickly, his arms consuming me, and his lips covering mine.

  Our bodies fell into one another, both needing the connection we’d so desperately missed. “Maybe now things can get back to normal,” he said, pulling back just enough to stare into my eyes.

  “Things will never be normal,” I said with a smile. “At least not for the next eight years,” I laughed.

  Adam’s eyes widened and his lips curled into a bright smile. “Wow. You have a lot of faith in me, don’t you?” he asked playfully.

  “Yes,” I said softly.

  “I have faith in us,” he said.

  I took a deep breath, and let out a soft sigh. “That’s what I want to talk to you about,” I said.

  He dropped his hands from mine and took a step back. His eyes were filled with worry and a hint of irritation. “I thought we were over this,” he said.

  “I’m not trying to run from you,” I said softly.

  His eyes narrowed, but the irritation quickly left. “Like before?” he laughed nervously.

  I’d never actually talked to him before; instead, I’d ended up in his bed. I knew I’d been paranoid, and had given him plenty of reason to think I was ready to bail on him again. But he needed to trust me right now, and just listen.

  “I think the only way we can continue this is to be honest,” I said.

  Adam took another step back and leaned against the antique wood of his large desk. Even stressed, he looked more powerful than any man I’d ever known. It wasn’t the power of the presidency; I knew that. Adam had always been a man I’d admired and looked up to, well before the thought of campaigning had even entered his mind.

  “Honest?” he asked.

  His hands pushed into the pockets of his trousers, and I knew it was to keep from showing telltale signs of anxiety, a trick I taught him.

  “I think the people can handle the truth,” I said with a smile.

  “About us?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I replied.

  “But you said that would destroy one of us, if not both,” he stated firmly.

  “I did say that. But I was wrong,” I admitted.

  “Were you wrong, or do you just want the attention?” he asked.

  I was shocked. “The attention?” I snapped.

  “You are amazing at what you do. You’ve never been wrong. I mean, just look at how well you pulled me from this last mess. Now you say you’re wrong, and I’m supposed to be okay with that?” he argued.

  Anger rose in me like a fire. This is what he wanted, at least if it meant getting into my pants. Now, there was no need. He’d gotten what he wanted, and he didn’t have to flaunt me to the media, or explain me, or himself. It was easy. “You just want to keep me your secret lover?” I hissed.

  “Wow. That was never my intention. You know that. You’re the one who insisted that no one could know,” he said, his voice firm and his tone filled with irritation. “You know I’d do anything for us to be together, that I have done anything,” he said.

  “What have you done?” I asked.

  “I brought you onto the campaign; I brought you on here. I followed your rules,” he scowled.

  My blood boiled. “You brought me onto the campaign, to here?” I asked, my voice raising.

  “Yes. I did. I wanted to be near you,” he said.

  “So, it had nothing to do with my ability to clear your tainted reputation, to get you in the public eye, into their hearts, to clean up your messes and make you look invincible?” I asked, now yelling more than talking.

  “Of course I brought you on because you were amazing, and I knew you could do amazing things. That doesn’t change the fact that I wanted to be near you,” he said softly.

  “Okay, then let’s make it public,” I said firmly.

  “It’s not that easy,” he insisted. “If we’d done that early on, sure. Now, it’s just complicated, and I can’t risk your career being tarnished by a scandal,” he added.

  “I can handle myself, and my reputation. I think America would appreciate a love story, and some truth from the White House for once,” I said, fighting back the tear in my eye.

  “I’m not sure that’s the PR genius I hired or the woman I’ve been making love to at night. I can’t take a risk on your career, on mine, based on what? A mood? A possibility that it could all work out? It’s just not the right time; you said so yourself just days ago,” he said.

  The tear I fought won, rolling down my cheek and onto the floor. It was obvious Adam had been bluffing all along, not willing to really name us as a couple. I was too wrapped up in his power, his beautiful eyes, and his sensual touch to see it. He wanted me, all right: that part was true. He wanted me to be his dirty little secret.

  “If that’s how you feel, then we have to end this now. I can’t be your dirty little secret any longer,” I snapped. “The truth will come out, it always does. So, it’s best I leave now before someone decides to start spreading rumors,” I insisted, turning to leave without even looking at him for one last goodbye.

  I hated the feeling in my chest as I closed the door. My heart was breaking in two. I knew it was better to break it off now, before I fell any deeper, if that was even possible.

  Chapter Nine

  Michael pushed for answers when I called, telling him I’d emailed him everything he needed for the week. “Is everything okay?” he asked.

  I choked a little as I tried to fight back tears. “It’s fine. I just need some time off,” I explained without much detail.

  “You promised you’d tell me anything that could be even remotely important,” he reminded me.

  Tears rolled from my eyes and down my cheek. My hand was dampened with my sadness as I held on to the phone, working hard to swallow my pain and speak clearly. “Obviously, there is nothing important to report,” I said, my voice shaken, and obviously filled with sorrow.

  I sniffled, swallowed hard, and took a deep breath as Michael remained silent for a few seconds. “Quinn, I’m coming over,” he insisted.

  “No,” I protested.

  “I know you haven’t confided in me, and I understand why. But you need a friend,” he said softly.

  I sobbed relentlessly from his kindness. “Please, just give me the week,” I pleaded.

  “Call me if you need anything at all,” he said.


  “I promise,” I replied, and then hung up the phone.

  Rowena felt horrible for pushing me to make Adam and me public, telling me so constantly.

  “It’s not your fault,” I said her over and over, trying to convince her.

  “Don’t you think you should answer his calls?” she asked.

  I gripped my phone, staring at the screen. There were more than a dozen missed calls from Adam, and countless texts that I couldn’t bring myself to read. “No. It’ll just go back to the way it was before. I love him. He has a way of making me forget my convictions,” I said.

  “And you have a way of making him forget his,” she said softly.

  I didn’t find that statement to be true. He hadn’t given up anything in this endeavor. He was able to get what he wanted from me both professionally and personally. He didn’t have to announce or proclaim his feelings, and he held all the power. He knew that. I didn’t realize it until I pushed for something more.

  “I was foolish. You warned me,” I smiled.

  The next week, Adam continued to call and I continued to ignore any attempt he made to contact me.

  “Someone is here for you,” Rowena said, peeking in my bedroom door where I’d barricaded myself for days.

  “Who?” I asked, fearing it was Adam coming to sway me back into his bed.

  “Michael Guidry,” she replied.

  My stomach churned as I got up and took a quick glance in the mirror at myself. My hair was pulled tight into a ponytail and my face hadn’t seen makeup for at least two days. “I’m not in the mood to see anyone,” I said quickly.

  “He said he’s not leaving. I’ll send him in here,” she snapped and disappeared from my doorway.

  I knew she was irritated that I’d let this breakup get to me so badly. I was contemplating going back to Minnesota and getting my old job back, but I didn’t want to tell her that just yet. I didn’t want to tell anyone.

  Michael stood in Rowena’s living room with a bottle of wine. “I thought you could use a drink,” he said, his voice kind and warm.

  He wasn’t wrong.

  We sat outside on the deck, drinking and talking for over two hours. He filled me in on everything that had happened in the White House and pleaded for me to come back. “Don’t let this ruin your dreams,” he insisted.