He bursts into laughter. ‘If you want Milo to terrify you, okay. All we have to do is walk in, and he will give us one by force.’
I snort. ‘Yes. I want something that’s ours.’
‘The condo is ours,’ he tells me. ‘Dennis is ours. The bed is ours. The couch, the kitchen, the chairs…’
I make a noise to stop him. ‘Okay, I get it.’
He ignores me. ‘The patio furniture is ours. The coffee table is ours. The macrame thing Thom got me is ours. The…’
I lean forward and drop him carefully, pinning him to the floor. “You madeyour point,” I say aloud.
He shakes his head and picks up one of my hands and puts it on his chest, over the beat of his heart. Then he lays his own hand on mine.
“Ours,” he says as I read the word off his lips. He lifts his other hand and signs it for good measure.
I nod, then kiss him.
This moment, this life, it belongs to us.
EPILOGUE
DENVER
‘Someone sent you this.’
I stare at the drink in Rene’s hand. It’s one of my favorites: a Manhattan with two extra cherries, a little redder from the additional grenadine.
‘Who made it?’
‘Casey.’ He jerks his chin toward the bar, and Casey catches my eye, shooting me a wink. We had a thing once. It didn’t last, and thankfully, it didn’t end ugly, so we’re still friends.
‘He ordered me this drink?’ I ask as I take it.
Rene shakes his head. ‘The guy at the end of the bar.’
I freeze with the drink halfway to my lips and peer around the curtain. There’s a man there with only his profile visible. He’s got pale skin and dark hair, and he’s speaking aloud.
That’s all I can make out.
And then he turns. His eyes find mine, and something twists in my stomach. The feeling is ugly. It’s like I’m being taken apart by his eyes—seen in a way I didn’t consent to.
He smirks and turns his back to me, speaking to Casey again.
Looking down at the drink, it’s suddenly sinister. Like if I slosh some of it over the side, it’ll hit the floor in a rush of hissing cartoon skulls and crossbones.
Moving back behind the curtain, I slide toward the back door and crack it open, pouring the drink on the pavement. Rene is still staring at me with a quirked brow, but I offer no explanation, and he doesn’t ask for one.
‘Not thirsty?’
‘No.’ I set the glass down on the stool and wonder if I should text Thorne and see if maybe he still knows any forensics guys who can test it. Something tells me this was meant to be a threat. Thorne will probably think I’m losing my mind, but he might humor me anyway.
Before I can panic and overthink it too much, Rene signals me since I missed the cue lights flashing. It’s time for our duet.
Adjusting my wig, I take a deep breath and follow him past the curtain.
The spotlight is bright, and I take a moment to adjust as we step out, following the beat underneath our feet. For a moment, I lose myself in the choreography and the dance. Rene and I play with the audience as we move around each other and get everyone’s energy up.
There are hands in the air, and people enthusiastically signing along, and I feel like myself again. Not just some buttoned-up, nerdy professor, but also this.
