He pulled the other chair across from her and set his glass on the rail. “Julie, let me see your foot.”
“I’m not showing you my feet. I need a pedicure.”
Ignoring her, he reached forward and yanked her foot onto his lap. “It’s red. And it looks like you have a blister starting.”
“I’m really self-conscious about my feet.”
“Relax, you. I’m a doctor. There isn’t a part of the human body that can freak me out at this point.” He pressed his thumbs into her arch, and the overworked muscles and tendons relaxed. “Feel good?”
It felt so good her eyes started to roll back. “Did they teach that in medical school?”
“I took a reflexology course. Did you know there’s a place on the foot that can hit almost any nerve in the body?”
“I think you’re hitting my narcolepsy nerve, because you’re about to put me to sleep.”
He continued to massage. “This area releases tension.”
“I can tell.”
“And this…” He dragged a finger down the arch of her foot, tickling her but not letting go. “This area connects to the nerves in your back.”
“Whoa!” She felt something buzz along her spine. “Do something else.”
“This works your eyes.” He tugged her second smallest toe, and she felt a strange loosening of tension around her face. “And this is your sinuses.”
“That’s so cool. I can feel it.”
“How about this?” He pressed hard on the inner heel near the bottom of her foot and her eyes widened.
“Hey!” She felt something tighten in her lower regions.
He laughed. “Too much?” He moved his massaging fingers higher between her arch and ankle bone, and pressed. “How about now?”
“Stop that!” She could feel things happening around her girlie parts. “How is that even possible?”
He chuckled and went back to what seemed like a normal foot massage. “I think you have nice feet.”
She peeked through her lashes, watching him. He was totally unbothered. “Did you really have a crush on me as long as you said?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”
He shrugged and continued massaging. “You’re intimidating. I mean, look at how you dress.”
She smirked. “Smart-ass.”
“Give me your other foot.”
Without hesitating, she replaced her left foot with her right. “I would have said yes, if you would have asked me out.”
He didn’t look up or respond.
She realized then what it must have done to him, seeing her with Lance all those years. “Did you hate him because I was with him, or did you hate that I was with someone like him?”
“Both. You were always too good for him. But, even without you, I would have disliked him. He’s a dick.”
She’d grown so used to Lance constantly reminding her how many people liked and admired him, it was strange to remember that wasn’t always true. Maybe it was hardly ever true. “Do other people dislike him?”
“Your sister hates him.”
“Jo? No, she doesn’t.”
He raised an eyebrow, challenging her. Did Jo hate Lance? Maybe that was why she stopped hanging out with them, and why she eventually moved away.
“What about Sheilagh?”
He sighed and sat back, no longer massaging but retaining a hold of her foot on his lap. “Aside from the shitty way he treated you, few people liked him. He’s insecure and always overcompensating. It’s hard to listen to that after a while.”
“You think Lance is insecure?”
“Absolutely.”
She frowned, having a hard time qualifying him as such. He always carried himself with such unbending certainty at home. “And you think he treated me shitty? Even before the things I told you last night?”
“I remember one time in high school we all went out for milkshakes. You kept talking about how much you were craving a mint chocolate chip shake, but when we got there, Lance ordered you a vanilla shake. You told him it wasn’t what you wanted—and we all heard you say you wanted mint—but he gave you a bunch of crap about changing your mind and being difficult.”
“I don’t remember that. I guess he did stuff like that so much I stopped keeping track.” She didn’t want to talk about Lance anymore.
His hand rubbed over the top of her foot, trailing along her ankle. “How about I use one of my wishes?”
Whatever she’d been thinking, his question sidetracked her. A flush heated her cheeks and she smiled. “What do you want?”
“Everything you’re willing to offer.”
The breath vanished from her lungs. “You’re dangerous, Patrick.”
“Nah, I’m just your old childhood friend, Pat.”
“Little Pat never looked at me the way you’re looking at me now.”
“How am I looking at you?”
“Like you want to swallow me whole.”
His mouth curved with a half smile. “I’ve spent my entire life looking at you like this, Jules, but only when you were focused on something else. I’m done hiding.”
“See? Dangerous.”
“Why dangerous? Why not upfront or direct?”
“You’re those things, too. But you’re mostly dangerous, because you make me want to say yes to whatever you ask.”