“Good. Say what I wanna hear.”
Holloway snarled like a trapped bear. “I’ll fuckin’… I’ll stay away from Cheryl, you fuckin’ cunt.”
“Good boy.” Patrick let go of his arm. His teammate staggered but stayed on his feet. “Have a nice night.”
He walked away, his head spinning. He’d never done anything like that, let alone to a teammate. His MO had always been to get along with everyone. Make things easier. Holloway had hated him on sight, been an asshole to him for years and he’d never confronted him. Now, he’d basically threatened to end his career…
But he could deal with that later. He needed to get to Cheryl. She was still dancing alone in the middle of the floor, oblivious to the men staring at her. He watched her spin and sway, in her own little world. No matter how close they got, she always felt far away. It was probably his fault, his crush driving a wedge between them.
He imagined going over to her, grabbing her shoulders, and saying ‘Cheryl, I’m crazy about you.’ His chest went so tight he could hardly breathe. He’d just put the biggest asshole on his team in his place, but he still couldn’t be honest with his best friend. Beth’s plan hadn’t worked. Nothing worked. It would go on and on. It would never end.
Someone tapped his shoulder. “Hey.”
He turned, muscles tensed, expecting Holloway, but it was Derek. “Hi. How’s things?”
“Pretty good. Saw you dead-arm Holloway.”
He winced. “Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. He had it coming.” Derek tipped his head toward Cheryl. “You making a move?”
“I want to, but I never get there,” he said, too worn down to lie.
Derek’s eyes went as flat and black as the shark their team was named for and Patrick wondered if he was about to get another lecture. Then his friend nodded. “Do it. Do it once and go all in. Don’t leave anything on the bench.”
That wasn’t what he’d been expecting. “Don’t leave anything on the bench?”
“Don’t downplay how much you like her. Spell it all out even if it feels…” He coughed, raising a tattooed fist to his mouth. “Even if it kills you, say everything. That’s what I should have done.”
The surrealness of having a heart-to-heart with a guy whose poster had hung on his bedroom wall made it easier to ask his childish question. “What if she doesn’t feel the same?”
Derek gave another racking cough, as though the conversation was physically hurting him. “Then you’ll know you did the right thing. I didn’t say everything to Mara, and it cost me. I lost her for years. Don’t do that. Tell Cheryl the truth.”
“Thanks,” he said. “I’ll think about it.”
“Good. I’m gonna go—”
“But what if being honest fucks it all up? What if everything with me and Cheryl goes to shit?”
Derek’s lip quirked. He looked over at Cheryl, who was now dancing with some idiot in a bow tie. “I wouldn’t say it’s going well right now, would you?”
Patrick groaned.
“Take it from me, mate. Stop waiting.”
“You know Beth told me pretty much the same thing?”
Derek smiled. “Well, there’s your answer. She’s nuts but she’s fucking perceptive. See you, Psycho.”
Patrick watched him move through the crowd toward Mara. He put his arm around his wife’s waist, and she smiled, her expression so warm, Patrick felt his heart open. Derek was right. He needed to stop waiting.
Cheryl was still dancing with bow tie dude, but her eyes were closed. She was still off in her own little world. But she never minded when he came to visit, and maybe she wouldn’t mind if he told her the truth. Maybe, possibly, perhaps there was a chance this could go well.
He straightened his shoulders and ran a hand through his hair as the DJ transitioned into some 80s song. Everyone screamed, jumping so the cabin floor shook beneath his feet. Cheryl didn’t seem to notice, her head was rolling from side to side. Bow Tie grabbed her hips. She didn’t seem to notice that either, swaying slowly as he pressed his body to hers.
Patrick shoved his way toward her, getting dirty looks left and right. He didn’t care.
Bow Tie leaned in for a kiss and Cheryl’s eyes flew open.
