“In the US. When I get back. They’ve all already seen you. When I say, hey, that girl—the one who worked so hard to get me out—she’s going to be leading the south. I think they’ll like that.”

“Yeah, I’m sure that having a teenager in charge will really instill a lot of confidence.”

He leaned a little closer, which was dangerous, but he couldn’t help it. “Don’t do that.”

“What?”

“Don’t be self-deprecating. My dad always says to act like you know what you’re doing, all the time. People will eventually believe it.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m sorry, but that is the most white-dude advice I have ever heard.”

“I’ll give you that.” He laughed. “Sometimes it results in guys like Declan shoving themselves into places they don’t belong. But sometimes it means people like you actually getting a shot and not letting dudes like Declan steamroll over you.”

She twisted a lock of hair in her fingers. “My dad always told me I wasn’t tough enough. Scary enough. He ruled through…”

“Fear, I know. We heard on the outside.”

“I was never good at that.”

“You don’t need to be good at that. You didn’t get here by being a scary asshole, did you?”

“I got here because you kept hounding me to bring you here.” Her lips curved up.

“You struck a pretty good deal, from what I remember. Not to toot my own horn, but I’ve been very helpful making it this far.”

“That was one hundred percent tooting your own horn.”

He laughed, reaching out and gently poking her arm. “Well, it’s true.”

“It is, actually. You’re very…adaptable.”

He cocked his head. He wasn’t sure what word he’d been expecting after very, but that wasn’t it.

“Adaptable,” he repeated.

“Yeah. I don’t think most people would have adjusted to all this the way you have.” She paused, her gaze steady on his. “I think you’re pretty okay up close too, you know.”

“What?” He was distracted by the freckle near her mouth.

“You said that you’re great from a distance. I think you’re great close up, too.”

The door to the building opened before he could respond, and Anna stepped out, a girl trailing behind her.

“We ready?” she asked.

No. He wasn’t ready for anything. Maisie had turned away, but he was still rooted in place, trying to remember when he’d said that he was great from a distance.

Right. When they were watching the news. He’d said it offhand and then regretted it, because it was too honest. He’d been too honest nearly every moment since he’d arrived in the Q, and he wasn’t entirely sure why.

No, he knew why. Because there weren’t any cameras or people staring at him. No one on the street recognized him. No one was analyzing his every word and reporting back to his dad’s campaign staff.

And so, he’d said I’m great from a distance to Maisie because, one, it was true, and two, he didn’t think it mattered. Even then, when he was still convincing her to take him to the exit, he was certain he was getting out. It didn’t matter what he said or did in here.