Chapter Forty-One

“I blame the nail polish.”

Patrick laughed, and Anita swatted at his arm playfully. He couldn’t keep the stupid grin from his face. There was nothing better than this, their post-comp ritual, sitting beside her with his long legs crossed on the floor. After the awards ceremony, they had found an empty ballroom for their celebration. They were both barefoot and had changed out of their costumes into roomy sweats. In front of them was a veritable feast of sandwiches, fruit salad, and brownies. He had made extra sure to request brownies. Chocolate healed most of her wounds.

“Why?” Patrick leaned forward and winced, repositioned himself. He sifted through the sandwiches until he chose a turkey hoagie loaded with lettuce, tomato, red wine vinaigrette, and oregano. It was his third sandwich. “We came in third. After everything, number three isn’t bad. My jive kicks were decidedly lackluster.”

Anita patted him on the arm reassuringly. “They weren’t that bad.”

Patrick grimaced. “I’m just grateful we hadn’t choreographed any more challenging poses in the Paso. I had a chance to catch my breath.”

“At least we beat Mikhail.”

A wide, wicked grin spread across Patrick’s face to match the one on Anita’s. Revenge definitely helped ease the ache. As did the ibuprofen he had taken twenty minutes before the comp. “I’ll never forget the way his partner refused to hold his hand during the awards ceremony. What a fake smile. And why did he still choose to wear the shirt open to his navel? You could see all the bruises he didn’t hide.”

Anita bumped him on the shoulder. “I’m so glad to see you’re taking the high road here.”

He didn’t need the high road. He was here, alive, with her.

“At least I finally get to eat,” Patrick said at last, partially to his sandwich and the half-eaten bag of crinkle cut chips. “If Kim had really wanted to keep me alive as her love slave, shouldn’t she have bought me lunch first?”

Anita stilled beside him. He shouldn’t have said anything.

John Flaherty had arrived at the ballroom shortly after the awards ceremony for the professional contestants, bearing the smorgasbord and news of how everything had transpired.

“I can’t believe she killed Nikita. And Melanie Templeton’s husband. I don’t understand why she would do that.”

Patrick shrugged, mouth full of sandwich. “Maybe he was trying to tell Kim to back off of Melanie, and she didn’t like that.”

Anita shivered. “I’m grateful the worst thing she did to me was break my window. Although that poor bird…”

“Have you forgotten that she poisoned you?” Patrick’s eyes arched.

Anita grimaced. “I blocked it out. Some things are better left forgotten.”

They ate in companionable silence for a few moments. There was a slight smudge of mayo on the corner of her lip. He desperately wished he could lick it off.

But nope. All of that, and her feelings for him clearly hadn’t changed.

“You sure you don’t want to go to the after-party?” Patrick asked. “We always had fun.”

Anita stuck out her tongue. “And be accosted by everyone wanting the latest gossip? Please. I’d rather just hang out with you.”

His heart leapt. He leaned over and wiped the mayo from her cheek with the pad of his thumb. Her skin was as soft and delicate as he remembered. At least he could take that with him to Fiji.

He would take the memory of her smile with him right now, too. It would be like aloe on his sunburn.

Though now she was looking at him like he was insane. Which he might be.

“Me too. In the end, I’m glad she was kind of bad at being a criminal psychopath.”

Anita raised an eyebrow, the very motion of it teasing. He loved her so much, and it hurt more than anything else that she didn’t feel the same way. “Yeah, you should have tracked her down earlier.” She grinned. “Aren’t you supposed to be some kind of social media tech wizard?”

“I’m hardly a black hat.”

“I don’t know. Chris Hemsworth has nothing on you.”

She wouldn’t look at him, but his treacherous heart was desperate for any sort of subtext. He couldn’t put too much stock in it, though. “In my defense, I was balancing a lot of other things at the time.”

“Well, I don’t think we need to change careers just yet. Someone else can open the Lewis Detective Agency.”

The air sparked, and he found her gaze.

All the hum and bustle of the party outside faded, and all he could see was her. All he ever saw was her.

“This was the most fun I’ve ever had.”

Anita scoffed audibly. “Patrick, you were in a ridiculous fight, with Mikhail of all people, then got drugged and tied to a bed for several hours before I forced you to dance in a professional competition. You’re insane. I would just want to take some ibuprofen and sleep for five days.”

She had a point.

“Okay, yes, it was eventful. And painful. But I was with you. And that makes it all worthwhile.” He looked down at his now-empty bag of chips. If he didn’t go for it now, he never would. Life was too short for regrets. His voice softened. “Last night, too, was also pretty epic.”

Her response, or lack thereof, told him everything he needed to know.

“Patrick, I—”

“It’s okay, Anita.” Patrick started gathering up bits of trash and putting them into an empty plastic bag. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way. I can just deal with it.” Tickets. Packing. Subletting his apartment. Yup, this was it. They would have a friendship of platonic GIFs sent from faraway places. The end.

It was going to end in an empty ballroom filled with sandwich wrappers. Fitting, since the first time he had ever seen her, she had been picking up trash in the high school parking lot.

Anita put her hand on his, her touch stilling his mind.

“Patrick, I’m sorry.”

It wasn’t helping. Could he get a ticket on one of those billionaire space missions?

“I’m sorry for what I said to you this morning. I was scared. Terrified, really. Last night was”—she closed her eyes, breathed deeply—“momentous. I felt like everything had changed, and it was overwhelming. I’ve never felt anything like this before.”

The air abruptly left the room. His wandering mind circled directly back to her.

What was happening?

She continued, her eyes downcast, a flush across her cheeks. “You are the best person I’ve ever known. You are my best friend. I don’t deserve you.” His heart hitched. “And what I said this morning, it wasn’t true, Patrick. I—I do love you. I think I’ve loved you since we were teenagers, but it scared me so much—”

Unable to contain himself any longer, he closed the short distance between them and pressed his lips to hers. He wrapped his arms around her waist, drew her against him. He breathed in every good thing that he loved, returned it all with promises.

He never wanted it to end.

Finally, his lungs desperate for air, he pulled back and leaned his forehead against hers. His entire body smiled. “I hope it doesn’t take another crisis for you to dance with me.”

Anita wrapped her arms around his neck. “I won’t make that mistake again.”

She sealed her promise with a kiss.