Six months later...
I bounce on the edge of the seat of our SUV about to burst with excitement. "Sweet pea. Calm down." I glance over at Ford, who is driving us home. He's smiling at me. He's let his facial hair grow a touch. I can still feel the reminder on my thighs right now. He's looked so much more at ease since we left the White House.
"We're going home," I remind him. I'm smiling so big I know my face is going to hurt tomorrow, but I don't care. We're free. No more people watching us all the time. We can touch and kiss each other whenever we like.
The fallout from the pictures wasn't as catastrophic as I expected. You really couldn't see anything, only us kissing, which the press turned into some love story that made the world swoon over. I was happy it didn't get twisted with pe
