Page 162 of The Unlikely Pair

“Of course you can borrow some clothes,” I manage to say.

We’re silent as we go up the stairs together. I rummage through my drawers to find some trousers and a shirt for Harry, which I hand him wordlessly.

Harry sheds the dressing gown and slips on my shirt while I watch, the clogged feeling inside me turning into an ache.

I know his body so well. I know the curve of his spine, the dimples at the base of his back, the planes of his chest, all the parts of Harry I’ve traced with my fingers and lips.

They disappear under my clothes as he gets dressed.

I try to memorize every detail, the way the light falls across his face, the way my shirt drapes over his frame.

My heart clenches as he adjusts the collar, his eyes meeting mine in the mirror.

I love him so much I couldn’t live with myself if I caused his downfall. If I were the reason he didn’t get to realize his dreams.

I blindly follow him downstairs, reeling at that revelation.

Harry leans forward and presses his lips to mine, and it takes all the restraint I have not to sink into the kiss, not to get lost in Harry again.

Instead, I pull back.

“We have to stop doing this,” I say.

Chapter Forty-Seven

Harry

Toby’s words pierce my heart. He’s standing there in only a dressing gown, his curls in disarray, his lips still slightly swollen from our kissing last night.

He’s never been more beautiful to me.

“But…I thought…” I say.

How am I going to finish that sentence? What did I actually think? That me coming here last night, Toby accepting me into his bed, would resolve everything between us?

Toby sees my uncertainty and his chin tilts up, his gaze challenging. “You thought what, Harry? That you’re magically not the leader of the Tories? That we’re not political enemies? That I don’t have massive issues with your father, a man you love and admire? That you’re not married and on track to become the next prime minister, where being in a relationship with an opposition MP will be absolutely untenable. Did you actually do any thinking at all?”

The thing that keeps me rooted to the spot is not his words but the absolute anguish on his face.

He puts a hand to his temple, rubbing his brow.

“We need to draw a line under this. For both our sakes.”

My stomach hollows.

“Of course. If that’s what you want,” I say stiffly.

Toby raises his gaze to mine, and there is such pain in his eyes that it takes everything in me not to reach for him. “It’s not what I want, Harry. But it’s what I need. What we both need.”

He turns and walks down the hallway towards the kitchen, leaving me standing in his tiled hallway.

You’re wrong, I want to call after him.You’re what I need.

I can’t tell him that. It would only make everything worse.

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