Chapter Sixteen
She’d never tell Alex, because she did love their holiday traditions, but spending Thanksgiving with Remy was like some beautiful rom-com movie type of magic.
On Thanksgiving Day, she treated Remy to a true-blue American dinner, Marcee’s still-sick version: box stuffing, microwaveable turkey meals, instant mashed potatoes, and smoothies (the only ingredients she had readily available because she bought them in bulk).
She hadn’t had so much fun in a long time.
They laughed their way through the meal while Freddie Mercury slinked beneath the table, looking for crumbs and sniffing Remy’s shoes.
She was pretty sure Remy was appalled by the meal, but as far as second dates went, she’d had worse food.
True to his word, he left a few hours later after a sweet kiss on the cheek.
That Friday, Remy braved the shopping crowds downtown and brought her a pastry and drinks from Cliffhanger Smoothies.
They spent the morning watching Premier League soccer on TV and Remy regaled her with personal stories about some of the biggest names in football.
She was scandalized and absolutely tickled at the insider knowledge.
They couldn’t get enough of each other, even though they barely touched.
Marcee felt as if she was living in one of those Victorian-era movies Alex binged-watched and cried over: his hand grazing her wrist, the brush of his leg against her thigh on the couch.
She couldn’t believe the level of arousal she found herself at in his presence while they were both fully clothed.
Since Alex returned on Sunday, they clocked a full day together on Saturday.
First, a run on a local trail through the woods.
After showers (separate, of course), they got fast food and ate it in a park a town over from Belle Cliff.
Remy surprised her at his house that night with a steak dinner that, had they not been taking it slow, would’ve earned him a little somethin’ somethin’ afterward.
The best part of the entire holiday break was they didn’t talk about their jobs or their teams. In fact, they ignored reality as if they were just two people dating, from separate worlds where anything was possible.
He told her about his family—his lovely, kind mother who was his closest friend for years and his gruff, closed-off father who worked countless hours growing up to keep the lights on and was never home.
They learned tidbits about each other’s lives, filling her with hope like she hadn’t felt in a long time.
Marcee was still buzzing from the night before when she woke on Sunday, so she cleaned up and took the trash out, humming wordless tunes the entire time. What was she so afraid of before? The spark between them this whole time was so much more than hate. They’d been stupid to ignore it.
She was sitting at the kitchen table enjoying a cup of lemon and honey tea when Alex got back.
“I’m home!” she yelled, throwing open the door and dropping her bag in the hallway.
“So am I!” Marcee yelled back.
The scuff of Alex’s boots entered the kitchen, followed by a messy bun and cautious eyes.
“It’s alive!” she chortled.
Alex’s gaze swept over her, then the kitchen, before landing on Marcee’s tea.
“Is that a miracle healing potion with lemon extract? I thought we agreed not to use the hedge witch’s services again after the last fiasco.”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“Oh, no, no, no, Miss Priss!” Alex’s eyes lit up as she leaned across the table. “You better spill the beans. I leave you on death’s doorstep and return days later to discover not only are you fine, but you’ve cleaned?”
“Shoot,” Marcee muttered, pushing away her mug. “I knew the cleaning would give me away.” At Alex’s impatient gesture, she continued. “Well, I guess you could say it was the healing touch of another?”
“What!” Her shriek produced a terrified Freddie Mercury from behind the couch, where he hit the hallway floor, wiped out, and took off to the back of the house.
“Now you’ve done it. We’ll have to coax him from under the bed for dinner.”
“Oh, he’ll be fine!” Alex dragged her chair next to Marcee’s. “Focus. Who has been touching whom? You haven’t been talking to anyone. Please tell me you didn’t go sit alone at a bar somewhere and bring a rando home for the weekend?”
Marcee bit her lip, suppressing a grin. “It was a gas station, actually.”
“Don’t play with me, woman.”
Laughter bubbled out of her. “Calm yourself. Technically, I did pick someone up at a gas station, but it wasn’t a stranger. And he didn’t stay here the entire weekend.”
“I’m waiting.”
A flush warmed her face as she looked down at the table. “It was Remy.”
Alex pumped her fist in the air, letting out a giant whoop. “I knew there was something there! Holy crap, Marcee. How was it? Was it as hot as the coat room, or better?”
“There was no hanky panky, ma’am.”
Alex stared in abject horror. “Why the hell not?”
“There was touching. Just very PG.” She tugged at the end of her sweatshirt, suddenly a bit nervous to tell her the rest. So far, it’d been her and Remy in the little bubble they’d created.
Telling Alex, even if she was her dearest friend, burst it, bringing them into the real world. “We’ve decided to try dating.”
Marcee had zero idea how any of it was going to go.
The risk involved was significant—more than any relationship she’d ever had.
Neither of their bosses could find out. She couldn’t even tell Nicole.
Not that she would ever report her, but selfishly, Marcee couldn’t see her face when she realized she’d knowingly putting her job in jeopardy by being with Remy.
The betrayal would be too much, and however Nicole reacted, she would deserve it.
She was being selfish, but worse—she was being reckless, all to be with Remy.
Alex’s questions were immediate.
“So, you’re together? As in, a real, public relationship?”
“Well, not blatantly public. Obviously, certain people can’t know. We’re keeping it low-key.” Very low-key.
“And you’re okay with that?”
“I am,” she answered. “I can’t believe how stubborn we’ve been, denying what was right in front of us.
What’s between us—it’s electric, Alex. Like nothing I’ve ever experienced.
I owe it to myself to see it through.” She took a deep breath.
“If this thing between us progresses, if it lives to see the other side of the season and Remy doesn’t go back to London, maybe I’ll look at a job somewhere else. ”
Alex’s hand grasped hers, eyes searching her best friend’s face. “Then I’m so happy for you. I love seeing you this way.”
“Me, too.” Marcee squeezed back, Alex’s rough from throwing discs all the time. “Me, too, babe.”
It was 6:45 p.m., fifteen minutes until Remy was due to pick her up for their first date since Thanksgiving break two weeks ago. Except, he was early and standing on their front porch.
“Of course! How proper and English of him!” Marcee was trying to finish up her makeup in the bathroom, so she yelled at Alex, “Can you answer and let him in, please?”
“Absolutely!” Her singsong voice was infused with a degree of glee way out of proportion to the task.
In a panic to respond before she opened the door, Marcee stabbed herself in the eye with her mascara, eliciting a fat, sloppy tear that traced its way down her cheek and splattered on the white pedestal sink like a warped Dalmatian spot.
“Damn it!” She grabbed a tissue and started dabbing. “Alex, so help me God, you better be nice!” She couldn’t remember the last time she had a man pick her up, so Marcee was sure Alex was salivating over the situation.
When Freddie Mercury didn’t race past her to the bedroom, she became concerned Alex hadn’t let Remy inside. Marcee dusted some highlighter across her cheekbones and hastily tossed everything into the sink. She would pick it up later.
Her confusion abounded when she entered the living room and found not only had Alex invited Remy inside, but Freddie Mercury, their antisocial scaredy cat who barely tolerated them, was splayed out on the floor while Remy scratched his belly.
“What the what?”
Alex stood next to the couch, a look of shock on her face. She turned toward her, blue eyes wide. “Marcee.”
Remy looked up from his petting and smiled. “Ah, there you are. Um… is everything all right?”
Marcee shook her head, at a loss for words. What kind of magic did Remy possess?
Alex jumped in on her behalf. “We’re shocked—floored really—that he’s letting you touch him. He spends half his time hiding around the house or yowling at his food bowl. We’ve never seen him do this before.”
Remy stood, dusting off his hands. “Really? Can’t say I’ve met an animal that didn’t take to me.
Plus, he’s bound to be familiar with my smell from when I was here before.
” He smiled again as Freddie got up and brushed back and forth against his legs.
The cat was so smitten you’d think it was him going on the date.
With the shock wearing off, she was able to take in and appreciate Remy in non-athletic wear.
His jeans were the perfect fit, tucked into the top of his short brown boots.
The tan shirt he wore stretched over his chest, covered by a dark brown jacket.
It was casual yet thought out and made her heart thump even faster.
Was he trying to impress her? That was so adorable.
“You look great,” she commented before grabbing her purse off the hallway table, playing it cool. “It’s strange to see you out of workout gear, though.”
He chuckled, then held out a hand to Alex. “Sorry, I’m Remy.”
Alex blushed, actually blushed, and took his hand. “Alex. Pleasure to meet you.”
Marcee waited for the interrogation to begin, but if she didn’t know any better, she’d say her best friend was a bit starstruck.
“Well, now that’s out of the way,” she replied, smirking at Alex.