Page 54 of One Last Run

Pete furrowed her brow with feigned seriousness. “I think we’d better spend the next 36 hours making up for lost time.”

Danica lifted her head to grin up at Pete. “Sleep is for the weak.”

“Sleep is for the losers who don’t have a gorgeous, naked Danica in their bed,” Pete said, kissing Danica’s temple.

“You don’t have to flatter me,” Danica teased. “You’re super rich, right? You can just buy me a car to say thank you.” She paused, playing up a moment of consideration. “Or maybe I should be buyingyoua car to say thank you for that thing you did with your tongue.”

Pete rolled her eyes, snorting. “I really promise you it’s not like that.”

Danica pushed up onto her elbow. “Then what’s it like? You just travel the world, surviving off of your investments? That’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it?”

Pete’s mouth tightened, and Danica noticed the way Pete felt suddenly very far away. “It’s not like that. I’m not just some...” Pete gestured vaguely. “Purposeless human.”

Danica raised an eyebrow. “Then tell me what it’s like.”

Pete’s cheeks were flushed, and not just from the exertion. “I am extremely privileged to have the life I do now. I bought Lillian a house, I paid off all my student debt... These are things I could never even imagine doing back when I was still just a depressed teenager in foster care. I didn’t have some desire to code forever, to hoard wealth like all the assholes I was meeting in the tech world. When I was traveling, I started connecting with all of these incredible people who were doing amazing things for kids in children’s homes and foster care. And the one problem they all had was funding for any kind of extracurriculars, or any extras of any kind. Grants are exhausting to apply for, and it’s hard to find the time to work toward things that might not pan out when you already have so much to do and organize, you know?”

Danica nodded, her brow furrowed in concentration as she tried to piece together what Pete was telling her. “You started funding orphanages?”

“Not exactly. I started funding programsforchildren’s homes. I never wanted anyone to feel lost and alone like I had growing up. There was never extra money to go anywhere or join sports or buy musical instruments, so that’s what the money goes toward. Basically, just enriching the lives of kids, funding hobbies or anything that can help them feel like they matter. For me, it was more important to show vulnerable kids that their interests matter, not just job training. You know, just exploring and having fun.” Pete took a deep breath. “Anyway, yeah, that’s... that’s what I’ve been doing for the last ten years.”

Danica was stunning, sitting up to look more directly at Pete. Here, she’d been assuming Pete had some weird hippie working on organic farms in Thailand and hitchhiking through life. “Why didn’t you want to tell me this?”

Pete smiled disarmingly. “Does it matter?”

Danica angled her head. “Yeah,it does. You’re incredible, Pete, and I don’t give a fuck about your tax bracket. You’ve come up with this amazing idea that honestly saves kid’s lives. You should be crowing from the rooftops about it.”

Pete scrubbed a hand over her face. “God, no.”

Danica pushed up onto her knees, cupping her hands around her mouth to loudly announce, “Petra fucking Pancott is amazing.”

Pete’s eyes widened and she grabbed Danica, flipping her onto her back in a fit of laughter. “Stop that! The people of the world can’t know I’m selflessandpay my fair share of taxes. I’d never be able to leave my house again for fear of being mobbed with adoring fans.”

“Ah, there’s the cocky bastard I know and love,” Danica said with a grin, kissing Pete’s nose.

“Love, hmm?” Pete repeated, quirking her mouth to the side.

“Oh, shut up, not like that,” Danica said, though something inside of her leaped at the thought. Nope. She didn’t know why that had popped up, but she pushed that emotion way, way, way down. A flicker of something crossed Pete’s expression, just a slight increase of intensity in her gaze as she stared down at Danica, her hair wild from Danica’s hands. Well, and Danica’s thighs.

“Sure, Wendell. You think you can butter me up to buy you a car,” Pete teased, touching Danica’s nose with hers.

Danica pushed up, giving Pete another kiss before laughing. “It was worth a shot.”

“Here, I’ll give you this: I noticed you need new snow tires when Kiera drove your car up that first day, but that’s on you. You’re a doctor.” Pete tickled Danica, and she writhed until the feeling of their bodies against each other took over all other thoughts, their mouths and hands and bodies slowly exploring one another over and over again.

Danica was puttingan obscene amount of dry shampoo in her hair when she heard a knock on the door frame of her en suite. Kiera stood there with a smile and a mug of steaming coffee, looking as put together as ever. She wore a turtleneck sweater, perfectly tailored jeans, and trendy boots that Danica eyed and mentally-marked as borrow-worthy. Danica felt very suddenly frumpy in her thrifted Levi’s and oversized fisherman’s sweater.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Kiera said, passing her the coffee.

Danica took the mug of coffee gratefully. “Morning,” she said, pausing to sip the coffee.

“How’d you sleep?” Kiera asked.

“Great, thanks,” Danica lied. “How about you?”

“Better without you starfishing,” Kiera teased.

Danica grinned, catching Kiera’s eye in the mirror. “Thanks again for letting me sleep in your bed.”

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