Presidential Pursuit: A Kamala Harris lesbian love story

Chapter 26

"Move over."

I pushed her body, and she scooted to the other side, leaning slightly on the armrest of the door.

Once seated, I turned my head briefly to look at her before closing my eyes and settling into the leather cushions. Her face was stern, but she looked slightly amused, with the faintest hint of a smirk creeping into the corner of her lips.

The car started moving, and I tried my best not to think about anything—not Kamala, who was sitting right next to me doing God knows what; not Anika, who was definitely thinking about me and the bizarre ending to our night; and especially not the bigger picture in all of this. Unfortunately, trying not to think about things had the opposite effect, and I could feel the pounding in my head intensifying. It didn't help that having my eyes closed heightened the sensation of the swaying and turning, making me feel dizzy as hell. The alternative was facing Kamala, and I knew she'd have something snarky to say, so I pushed through the car sickness.

"How was your date?" she asked a few minutes into the silence.

Oh, here we go. I knew this wasn't just a supervised taxi ride.

"You should know; you were practically there," I responded, still not looking at her.

"Did you have fun?"

Crossing my arms and digging myself a little deeper into the seat, I sighed. "I did, actually. I was, and it was getting good, too."

I wasn't even trying to piss her off. I just have a big mouth when I drink; it's hard to control the sass. I didn't even have to see her to know she didn't like that comment. Her tone shift said it all.

"That's good to hear, dear. I really do hope you enjoyed yourself, because that was the first and last time."

"Kama—" I sighed. "Don't start. My head hurts."

Surprisingly, she listened. Not another word was uttered, and I tried to fall back into the not-thinking while focusing my entire being on holding back the urge to vomit. It didn't help that I could feel her looking at me. There were lasers burning a hole through my skull.

"Stop staring at me," I commanded. "I can feel it."

There was movement from her side; I could hear some crinkling and a zipper being opened, followed by more prolonged silence. Curiosity got the better of me. I opened my eyes to find her open palm extended toward me, two white pills resting on her fingertips.

I eyed her curiously, and she inched her hand closer, insinuating that I take them, but I didn't.

"It's not poison, Emily. It's aspirin, for the headache," she said rolling her eyes.

Reaching over, I hovered above her hand for a moment before taking the pills with slight hesitation, feeling as if I'd just accepted a gift from the devil for some reason.

I threw them into my mouth, and she gave me a water bottle to wash down the medicine, watching me intently as I brought it to my lips.

"Thank you," I said cautiously, while a tiny smile crept over my face, one I quickly dissipated.

"You're welcome," she responded, contrasting me with a full smile.

We stayed there for a moment. Eyes locked, unsure of what the other was thinking or who would be the one to break the interaction. Of course, my intoxicated self faltered. Although it wasn't really my fault...She was wearing skinny jeans and a tight-fitted white tee; I hadn't had a chance to really look at her this whole ride. I was too focused on avoiding her and not throwing up.

My eyes downturned, finding their way to her thighs before quickly catching myself and meeting her gaze again. It was too late; she was already smirking. Her head tilted to the side slowly, and she patted her lap twice.