Not My Vote, But Maybe My Heart: When Mr. Politician Met Ms. Protest(Teaser)

Roadblock Romance: Mr. Politician Meets Ms. Fury

As soon as Maeve slipped into the car, she fixed Emmett with a hard stare, her voice tight and seething. "You lied."Emmett's fingers tensed on the steering wheel, but he said nothing, glancing over at her. Her eyes were red-rimmed, raw with frustration, and it hurt to see the belief she'd once held in him now fraying under anger. He looked down, unable to meet her gaze."You and your party—everything you stand for. It's all just... spin, isn't it?" Her voice cracked. "Do you even care about people like us?"Emmett opened his mouth, but the words died. She was right in some ways, or at least it felt that way tonight. He'd promised himself he wouldn't compromise — not like the others. But here he was, seeing the exact hurt in her eyes that he once felt when he was her age, fighting against the very machine he was now a part of.She leaned closer, voice trembling with the weight of it. "I actually thought... I thought you were different," she whispered, and the words fell like stones. "But you're just like the rest of them."He lifted his hand, maybe to offer something, a gesture to calm her. But she jerked back, her whole body tense, her fingers dug into her palms, the sting grounding her rage. "Don't," she hissed, her voice breaking. "I trusted you."Her words hung in the air, filling the silence between them. Emmett took a slow breath, feeling the old familiar ache — the one that reminded him of how he'd once stood on the other side of this, looking up to people he thought would change things. He almost laughed at the irony, but there was nothing funny about it. He swallowed, realizing that her words hurt more than he'd thought they would."Maeve," he murmured, his voice soft, pleading. She looked at him, anger flashing in her eyes again, then balled her fists and struck his chest, her hits soft at first, then landing with more force."You never cared!" she cried, voice hoarse. "You don't care about us — you never have!"Emmett took her blows, each one landing with a frustration he knew all too well. She was close now, her breath uneven, tears beginning to spill over. She seemed almost oblivious to how near she'd come, leaning into him in her fury, her face inches from his, raw and wounded.The sight of her this close made his own thoughts blur, a jumble of regret, longing, and the bitter knowledge of the things he'd let slip. He held still, letting her emotion wash over him, unable to form words to bridge the chasm he felt growing wider by the second.Emmett took each hit silently, too shocked by her nearness to react. Maeve didn't seem to notice that in her anger, she had moved right into his space, her fists landing on his chest, the blows soon softening into weak, desperate slaps as her breaths became ragged.The proximity disoriented him; he couldn't think straight, caught off guard by the fierce heat of her anger mingling with her closeness. Her face was inches from his, her tear-filled eyes fierce, almost blazing. The quiet pain she wore, so open and fierce, unsettled him more than he'd ever thought possible.Her anger reignited as she noticed his distracted stare. She raised her hands again, fingers brushing against his collar as she grabbed hold of his shirt. A button popped off, then another, and he felt the sting of her nails, scratching faint red lines against his skin. The touch was sharp, unexpected, grounding him as much as it set his heart pounding.She poured all her frustration into every scratch, each small dig of her nails punctuating the words she didn't say. And in that rush of feeling, he found his hands moving on their own, fingers trailing up her back, a tentative yet steadying touch. He traced light circles along her spine, a silent attempt to ground her, calm her, without words.Maeve stilled, her whole body going rigid as she realized the intimacy of their position. Their eyes met, both frozen in place, as if time itself had stopped to capture this moment between them. All the anger, the pain, the betrayal simmered in the air between them, mixing with something softer, unspoken.Emmett's hand stayed on her back, gentle and grounding, a muted regret expressed for every promise he'd broken, every reason she had to feel betrayed. Their eyes lingered on each other, words unspoken, both caught in the quiet ache of something broken that neither had the words to mend.