Page 73 of Sex Positive

“And you want to go into law! Which law school do you hope to attend?”

“Mom, Charlie didn’t sign up for a congressional hearing,” Wes says, his tone light.

Rebecca smiles affectionately at her son before winking. “I’m just trying to get to know—”

“Is Senator Masterson here?” Wes interjects. “I’d like to introduce her to Charlie.”

Rebecca points to a middle-aged Black woman a few feet away. “Go on.” She clasps Charlie’s hand once more. “It was lovely meeting you, Charlie. I hope to see you again soon.”

Leading her away, Wes leans close to her ear and whispers, “You survived. Congratulations.”

“Your mother is lovely,” she replies. “Much less intimidating than she is on television.”

Wes’s eyes dance with amusement. “Why didn’t you say so? I would have loved to see her reaction.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Ready to meet your Maryland senator?” He tips his head toward the woman Rebecca pointed out.

Charlie hesitates. “I don’t want to bother her—”

“Charlie.” Wes leans close again, and the scent of sandalwood fills her senses. “Politicians work foryou. They need to be aware of what’s happening in their state and to the people they represent, like the situation with The Wild Rue.” He raises his brows. “And if they don’t do their job, you fire them byvoting.”

With Wes so close, she can’t help glancing at his mouth before nodding.

He straightens. “Remember, you’re intelligent and beautiful, and you know exactly what you’re talking about.”

They approach the senator, Wes’s words of encouragement shooting a palpable electric thrill through Charlie’s veins.

Forty-five minutes later, Senator Masterson’s contact information joins Betsy’s in Charlie’s clutch. She seems genuine in her concern about the clinic’s imminent closure, and Charlie leaves the conversation buoyed with optimism.

“Want to get some air?” Wes asks after she finishes shaking the senator’s hand.

Charlie nods, exhilarated yet overwhelmed by the interaction. Her hands tremble.

Clasping her hand in his, Wes expertly weaves through the crowd, nodding to guests and murmuring softhellosandgood evenings. Most people recognize him, of course—Senator Quinn’s handsome son.

Charlie pastes on a smile, hypersensitive to his fingers wrapped around hers.

Outside the room, Wes leads her down a dimly lit hallway lined with closed doors, each one decorated with a red bow. At the very end, he pushes open a door to a small garden with Christmas lights strung through the trees and bushes. Steps lead to a stone path ending at a small gazebo and a bench illuminated with yellow lights set in the ground.

The voices and music quiet when the door closes behind them, and the air is crisp and refreshing on Charlie’s overheated skin. Her breath clouds in front of her.

“That was incredible.” She looks over to where he leans against a wall, an unreadable expression on his face. “Thank you. I’ll admit coming tonight wasn’t a complete waste of time.”

He smiles, his face half in shadow. “I didn’t think it would be. If anything, you get to spend an enjoyable evening with me.”

She laughs, surprising herself. “You’re so full of yourself.”

He shrugs, shoving off the wall and stepping toward her. “I have no reason not to be.”

If someone had told her a month ago she’d spend an evening enjoying herself with Wesley Quinn and speaking to comedians and politicians, she would have laughed in their face and told them to kindly fuck off.

Standing a few inches away, he pulls on one of her curls. “You wore your hair down.” He wraps a lock around his finger.

She swallows. “Yes.”

“You don’t wear it like this that much anymore.”