Page 72 of Savage Lover

“That makes sense . . .” I say, twisting the slender stem of my wineglass between my fingers. “It’s complicated for me . . . Vic and my dad need my help. And they deserve it. My dad always worked super hard. He’s just unlucky.”

Patricia nods sympathetically.

“Well!” she says. “You can have some fun tonight, anyway. Did you bring clothes to change into?”

“No . . .” I say, looking down at my jeans and t-shirt. “I was gonna wear this.”

“To the beach?” She shakes her head at me, then grabs me by the hand and pulls me toward her bedroom. “Come on, you dummy. You can borrow something of mine.”

Patricia’s closet is as nicely organized as the rest of her apartment. She flips through the hangers, pulling out a few items to hold them up in front of me, then putting them back again. Eventually she takes out a printed romper that reminds me of the pillows on her couch.

“Put that on,” she orders.

“Uh-uh,” I shake my head. “No offense, but those onesie things remind me of something a toddler would wear. Also, how do you pee once it’s on?”

“You just pull it down,” Patricia laughs.

“Like, all the way?”

“Yes.”

“So I’m totally naked?”

“Basically.”

“How am I going to do that down on the beach?”

“You just . . . sometimes you have to suffer to look sexy,” Patricia informs me.

“That doesn’t sound like a great trade-off.”

“Not even for Nero?” she says, giving me a mischievous look.

Man, she is really not going to let that die.

“Especially not for him,” I say.

“Bullshit!” Patricia says. “I know there’s something going on with you two. You’re coming to parties all of a sudden. He’s saving you from cops . . .”

I press my lips together, like that’s going to suddenly help me become a better liar.

“Out with it!” Patricia says.

This is not a friendly glass of wine. She’s a goddamn CIA interrogator.

“Fine!” I shout, cracking like I’m being waterboarded. “We did kiss.”

“I knew it!” she whispers, eyes alight with glee.

“But that’s it!” I hastily add. “And it’s probably never happening again.”

“Probably . . .” Patricia says.

“Most likely. Almost definitely.”

“Right.” She grins. “And?”

“And what?”

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