EPILOGUE
GRAHAM
If I had known my night would end this way, I would have approached Elle differently. Thought of another way to get her back because I want more. Need more.
But here I am. Seated across from her wearing a dumbfuck expression as I take in the remaining pieces on the chessboard—two tan and one black. Even she’s stunned by this turn of events. Her face is drawn and pale, her bottom lip quivering, as she stares at what she’s just done.
Who the fuck am I kidding? She’s staring at what I’ve done.
I’ve never been good at remorse. In thirty-three years, my regrets started and ended at Charlotte—until I met her. My enemy’s daughter. My sweet, prim pawn. My Elle.
My … nothing.
She is my nothing now because I’ve played a losing game. It’s been over twenty years since this happened, but I remember the last time with vivid clarity. It was summer. I had refused to go on vacation with Vero and her family because I didn’t understand why, at thirteen, I needed a babysitter. And V’s mother had taken me out of the game in four moves, ending the argument. This is not a disagreement over my hatred of the Adirondacks, though. I wish this was that simple, that damn insignificant.
This is Elle overpowering me. Her using her King to push me into the corner. Restricting me with her Rook. This is Eleanor Courtney winning.
“Wow,” she rasps.
No shit wow.
Her shoulders bow and she traces her tongue over her lips. Slowly, she lifts her chin until we’re eye to eye. The look she gives me—wide-eyed with none of the trust that used to be there—screams that it's the end. For two weeks straight, I’ve gotten out of bed each morning feeling like shit because this thing between us was over, but this just solidifies it.
I’ve lost the game and I’ve lost her.
Watching her skim her fingertips along the top of my King is a fist to my throat. It’s been a long time since that’s happened, too, and I fucking feel it, deep down in my lungs. It’s an effort to show no emotion. It’s all there, though, bitter and painful. It curls my gut and numbs me.
“Checkmate,” she breathes. It sounds more like a question than a statement, and I consider telling her no. I’ve always been good at that—telling people no—and it would be easy, typical of me, to go full asshole.
No, you do not win.
No, I don’t give up that easily because your voice is in my head and your scent is still on my sheets—you are everywhere and you have possessed me.
No. Fuck no.
But at the end of the day, a deal is a deal. I just never realized my own agreement would fuck me over so royally. It was my game to win but I was distracted by her. The furrowed brow, the shaky hands, the little sighs that escaped her lips whenever I made a move. Twenty minutes ago, I was on top of the world and now I’m here. Trapped because she’s brought my kingdom tumbling down.
I twitch my mouth into a taut smile and nod down to the board. “Congratulations, Miss Courtney.”
She snatches her hand from my King like it’s burned her and touches her fingers to the base of her throat. Her lashes lower, so she doesn’t see me clench my fist. Grit my teeth for fucking control. She pulls in breath after breath and I do the same because this is the end. The last time I’ll see her like this. Cheeks flushed, pink lips slightly parted. She’s traded in the pearls and the uptight elegance for a beanie and jeans, but she’s still just as stunning and perfect as the night I first laid eyes on her. When I think of her in the future, I’ll picture tonight.
My loss.
A goddamn loss that’s … suffocating.
I can’t resist one last touch. I don’t deserve it, I don’t deserve a thing from her, but I can’t keep my hands to myself where Eleanor is concerned. When I reach across the table and frame her face, she turns into my palm. Her lips move softly against my skin and my hand aches from the contact.
“Sorry,” she chokes out. “I’m so sorry.”
Fucking Eleanor Courtney. I’ve gone and ruined everything—her, her father, my own goddamn sanity—and she’s the one saying sorry.
“You really are good,” I mutter. She opens her eyes and just stares at me, like she’s waiting for me to say something else. I drop my fingers from her face and loathe that it feels like all the warmth has left my skin. Ripping my gaze from hers, I gesture down to the board. Three pieces and only one of them mine. “At playing the game, Elle. You’re good.”
She whispers something, but I don’t hear her over the invisible fists beating my eardrums. That’s happened too often since she asked me to leave her office. Like a lovesick fool, I’ve stayed awake at night, with her on my brain, wondering what the fuck I could do to fix it. That answer goes back to the beginning—before I offered her a way out of our initial agreement, even before Veronica warned me to stay away from her. I should’ve stayed away from Eleanor.
Her big blue eyes follow me as I shove away from the table. I hold her stare, my shoulders tensing. Finally, I incline my head toward the inside of my apartment. “Do you need me to call you a car?”
She swallows hard and lowers her gaze to her lap. “No. I-I can handle it.”
“Hmm.” I grind my teeth into a smile that makes my jaw ache. “Then I won’t hold you up any longer.”
Her movements are unsteady as she stands and wipes her palms down the front of her jeans. She casts one final glance at the chess board and shuffles away from the balcony. As she passes me, she turns her head. The motion is so swift that I filter in a breath of blackberry and vanilla. That scent will keep me up all night.
“Goodbye, Senator Delaney.”
“Elle.” She moves again, and panic seizes my chest. She gasps when I close my hand around her elbow, but she’s no longer looking at me. She stares straight ahead, at the front door. “I truly am sorry.”
A noise erupts from her throat followed by a harsh chuckle. “That I found out what you were planning on doing or that you wasted your time bringing me here tonight?”
What she says takes me back to that night in my car. After she discovered just the tip of what a depraved son-of-a-bitch I can be. “No, Elle, I’m sorry I hurt you. That I planned to use you. You…”
Weren’t what I anticipated.
Didn’t deserve someone so fucked up.
Are the best thing that’s ever walked into my life.
Straightening my spine, I offer her a curt nod. “Good luck, Eleanor.”
Hollowing her cheeks, she gives what I’ve said a moment to digest and then she pulls away from me. Walks across the room without giving me another fucking glance. And she’s gone before I can say another word.
My first thought is to drink myself stupid just to get her out of my brain. It’s been semi-effective over the last fifteen days, but then I narrow my eyes at the door she just exited. I reach it in four long strides and throw it open. I freeze when big blue eyes stare up at me. Her fingertip is poised over the doorbell, but she quickly shoves her hand into the back pocket of her jeans.
“Good,” I growl, “you’re still here.”
“Damn right I’m still here, Senator Delaney, because I wasn’t supposed to win,” she says breathlessly. “I knew I wouldn’t win when I told you I’d come and I played you anyway. And then you performed like absolute garbage.”
“Normally, I’m the epitome of stellar performance.”
She pulls in a breath through her teeth. “You really are a cocky bastard, do you know that?
“Elle—”
She shakes her head, fury contorting her features as she keeps talking. “You break your own rules by telling me you love me, and then you’re just fine with giving me a pat on the back and telling me sorry before offering to get me a car.”
“It wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of me not to offer.”
“You’re not a gentleman! You’re … completely Delaney. Infuriatingly Delaney.” She jabs her fingers into my chest and draws in another harsh breath because I don’t budge. “I meant what I said back at the piano bar, Graham. I can’t hate you because I love you. What kind of person does that make me? You have ruined me, and I could strangle you with my bare hands because you don’t—”
She lets out a raspy cry when I jerk her to me and our bodies crash together. I wrap my fist around her hat, dropping it to the floor so I can bury my fingers in her black hair. I kiss her the way I’ve imagined doing since the night we ended. Fierce and possessive. Hungrily because if this is another final moment between us, I’m going to fucking savor every moment of it. She tastes like blackberries from whatever fruity concoction she was drinking back at the bar and salt from her tears. She tastes like goodness. I swear I could drown in her and come up a better man.
She moans against my lips, buries her fingers in the front of my tee shirt, and melts into me. “Did you lose on purpose?” she murmurs between flicks of my tongue. I tighten my grip on her hair, and the sound she makes is like music to my dick. “Did you lose just so you could—”
I wrench away from her without warning, and a shudder ripples through her body. She hugs her arms around her stomach and pinches her lips together.
“Was this just another game to fuck with my head, Graham?” she finally demands in a soft whisper.
“Do you think I want to let you go?” When I back into the apartment, she follows. Closes the door behind us with her foot. “Do you think I like losing someone I want so much?”
Pressing her back against the door, she lifts one shoulder and flares her nostrils. “I have no idea what’s going through your head.”
“Then let me make it clear for you, dove: I wouldn’t have challenged you if I didn’t plan to win.” I touch her again because it’s impossible not to when she’s licking her lip like that. Her breath stalls when I brush my thumbs over her cheeks. “As I said, I don’t like to lose. I never have. I made you a deal, though, so I followed through with what I said I would do.”
Elle closes her eyes and lifts her chin when I trail my thumb down the column of her throat. “So this is it?”
I press my fingertip against her smooth skin, memorizing the precise way she feels beneath my touch. “If I had it my way, you would stay. I want you to stay.”
“Then why not just say that? No games. No tricks and elaborate gifts.” She grinds her teeth. “No filters.”
“You want no filters?”
“I always want the truth from you.”
I slide my finger under her chin and urge her face up until we’re eye to eye. Pushing my face close to hers, I say, “I’m crazy about you. You make me human. You make me give a fuck. I don’t just want you for a semester, Elle, I want to spend my existence watching you drink blackberry drinks and singing shitty songs from bad TV shows. I want to make you blush twenty times a day because you think I have a nasty mouth, and I want to turn every filthy, dirty thing I’ve ever said to you into reality.”
“Graham—” she murmurs. I press my thumb to her lips and she gulps.
“Close your mouth, Eleanor, because what I want most of all is you. In my bed, in my house, on some beach in Italy, in the fucking White House someday because everybody loves a scandal. I don’t give a fuck where it is as long as I’m with you.”
When she speaks, her tongue brushes over the pad of my thumb. It mingles with her tears falling onto my hand. “I want that, too.”
“Will you stay?” I ask.
I let go of her face. Take a step away from her. And she follows.
“Yes,” she whispers. “I want to stay.”
“Will you forgive me?”
“I will. Because I love you.” She tucks her hand into mine and turns her head. Her eyes lock on to mine. Crystal blue. Hopeful.
“I love you, too.” This shitter of a night just took a turn for the best. She’s perfect. Nothing I thought she would be and everything. “Our move, Elle.”
Thank you for reading HIS PAWN. I hope you enjoyed it!
Be sure to keep reading for a complete bonus book, FRICTION.
And after you finish reading FRICTION, check out a sneak peak of the first chapter of my next book!