Chapter 13 Whole Thing Is a Blur
Whole Thing Is a Blur
Darcy
I approach Eric’s table carefully, so the plates I’m carrying don’t topple. But I’ve just struck gold at the appetizer buffet.
My date is alone, but he has the strangest look on his face. It’s almost angry. “Eric?”
He startles like a rookie caught napping during a video session. He turns toward me, and his face is flushed. “Oh, hi.”
“Hi yourself.” I unburden myself, setting two plates down on the table. “Look what I found! Mini tacos, kebabs, and tiny tuna hand rolls. There’re also veggies and these good-looking homemade potato chips with crème fra?che dip.”
He looks down at the plates and frowns, like he’s never seen food before.
“Hey. Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” He clears his throat. Then he picks up a pretty cocktail and hands it to me. “Let’s have a toast—to free drinks and difficult families.”
“I can drink to both of those things.” We touch glasses. And then I sip my cocktail, holding his gaze. He still looks tense. “Thanks for being my plus one, Captain. Have you found Maribel yet?”
His gaze sweeps the room, and he shakes his head. Then he plucks a mini taco off the plate and takes an angry bite.
“Any good?” I help myself to one. “Mmm!” I say a second later.
“Magical. There’s something about tiny food that makes your brain go ‘this is special, this is precious.’ You can’t wolf down a mini tart the way you’d demolish a regular slice of pie.
You have to savor it. It forces you to be present in the moment. ”
His eyes warm, and he grabs one of the napkins on the table. “Did I mention how great you look in that dress?”
The compliment catches me off guard, and I glance down at it. I love this dress. Forty bucks in a secondhand store on the Lower East Side, and it fits me like a glove. “Are you just saying that because Tessa gave me shade for buying vintage?”
He looks away. “Nope. It’s just true.”
What’s gotten into you, Tremaine? These are my thoughts as a squeak of joy rings out in our direction. And then a super cute woman with a shiny ponytail flings herself at Eric. “You came!”
He catches her with a widening smile and briefly lifts her off the floor. “Maribel! You look fantastic.” He sets her down and plucks teasingly at the strap of her pink A-line. “I mean… you’re even dressed fancy.”
She cracks up. “I know, right?”
“Otherwise, you could still pass for the high school soccer player who spent every weekend in our kitchen, doing your homework and stealing all my sweatshirts.”
Maribel shrugs. “Fashion is still not my thing,” she says with a bright smile. “For the wedding weekend next month, I’m just wearing whatever Theo’s twin sister tells me to. It’s easier that way.”
At the mention of Tessa, Eric’s expression instantly tightens, and I’m fascinated.
“She does enjoy giving advice,” I say lightly. And when Maribel turns to me, I hold out my hand. “Hi. I’m Darcy. I’m the other sister.”
“Oh, wow!” Her eyes widen. And then she lunges forward and hugs me. “I can’t even believe we haven’t met yet. This is fantastic! Theo!” She calls to her fiancé, who I spot across the room. “Darcy is here!”
He pivots at the sound of Maribel’s voice and crosses the room with a smile on his face.
It’s easily been a year since I’ve seen my brother, and he looks different in a way that I can’t quite place.
He has a suntan, and he’s neatly dressed in a seersucker jacket and khakis.
But it’s not just that. He looks livelier than usual as he approaches the table.
Like someone has switched a brighter light on inside him.
“Darcy!” he says, and his smile seems awfully genuine for someone who doesn’t return my calls. “So glad you’re here.”
“Me too!”
Unfortunately, his harpy of a twin materializes a split second later. They both converge on our little group, but only Theo leans in to give me an awkward hug. “Glad you could make it. And Eric, nice to see you again…” He extends his hand to shake.
Eric is still throwing off tension that I don’t quite understand. He gives Theo the kind of macho, bruising handshake that isn’t really Eric’s style. “Happy to be here,” he says, even if his body language says otherwise.
Theo doesn’t pick up on it, though. Still wearing a grin, he glances between Eric and me, and then back again. “You two came together? Oh, wait—Darcy works for your team, right? I never put that together.”
“Sure she does,” Eric says. “We’ve worked together for years.” Then he steps closer to me and slides an arm around my shoulders. As if that’s a thing we do. “The Legends couldn’t even function without Darcy. And neither could I.”
Wait, what? My stomach suddenly does several flips. Like Simone Biles is in there with a tumbling mat.
“I see,” Maribel says, the word landing with significance. Her eyes dart to Eric’s embrace, hand cupping my shoulder, and a smile slowly blooms on her face. “Maybe if we returned your phone calls more often, we’d be up to speed on all the latest developments.”
“Right?” my brother chuckles. “Darcy, I’m so sorry. You left me a voicemail, but shower gifts were the last thing on my mind this week. The plumber who’s working on our new house caused a flood…”
“… And a huge mess,” Maribel adds. “We were a little distracted, and we’re sorry.”
“Sounds terrible.” But I’m suddenly having trouble tracking the conversation.
Eric’s body is giving off a pleasant heat that’s hard to ignore.
And up close, his scent is a devastating combination of an expensive, woodsy cologne, freshly done laundry (he’s the kind of guy who actually separates his whites), and a hint of leather.
“Oh, it’s all cleaned up now,” Maribel says. “So tell me everything. How long have you two been dating?”
“Not that long,” I say drily. “In fact, I forget when we started.”
Eric laughs. And I know we’re just playacting, here, but the rich sound of it soaks through all the neediest places in my soul.
“It was a very busy hockey season. Whole thing is a blur. Right, babe?” He nudges my foot under the table.
“But lucky me. I’ve got a date for the wedding of the year.
And a partner for this…” He gestures vaguely toward the stage. “A dance competition? Maribel, really?”
“Not my idea.” She grins, clasping Theo’s hand. “He’s the dancer in this relationship. He’s got us taking lessons.”
“Lessons?” I yelp. It’s hard to picture Theo getting excited about anything other than golf. But dancing?
“I’m one of the owners of a karate dojo,” he explains with a shrug. “And my buddy’s girlfriend is a dance instructor who teaches classes there. I signed us up for swing-dancing lessons to show our support, and it was so much fun.”
Maribel takes a carrot stick off my plate and points it at Theo. “Who knew he had a secret talent for the Lindy Hop?” She bites the carrot stick. “We’re all stunned.”
“Maybe it was all those tennis lessons?” I suggest.
“That’s what I said, too!” Theo smiles right at me. “Seriously.”
This is the easiest conversation I’ve ever had with Theo. And maybe that’s why I feel Tessa’s stare like a sunburn. So I finally give in and look in her direction. She’s glaring at me, as if standing here beside Eric and chatting up the bride and groom were a federal offense.
“Eric? You don’t have to dance,” Maribel says, laying a hand on his jacket sleeve. “If you hate the idea, you can sit out with the other scaredy-cats and losers.”
“Ooooh,” I breathe. “Don’t look now, boo, but Maribel just threw you some shade.”
“Challenge accepted,” he says, pulling me a little closer. “We’re going to win this thing. Right, Darcy?”
“Doubt it,” Tessa mumbles before turning on her heel and walking away.
Someone’s feeling a little bitchy. It could be anything, I guess. But I’m guessing she can’t get over the idea that I have a date with the sexiest man in sports.
Then again, I can hardly believe it either, so I guess we’re both surprised.
Eric frowns after Tessa as she stomps away. “Did I say something wrong?”
Theo turns to watch his sister head for the DJ stand. “Eh, she’s in a mood. It’s about this Josh thing.”
“Who’s Josh?” I ask.
Theo and Maribel exchange a wince. “Her ex-boss.”
“Tessa has a job?” Last I heard, she was doing some travel influencing, which meant traveling a lot on Daddy’s dime to post pretty pictures on Instagram.
Another awkward exchange of glances. “Well, she did have a job,” my brother says. “But she got involved with her boss, and I think it ended badly.”
“Ouch,” Eric mutters.
I would have enjoyed hearing more about my least favorite sibling’s fuckups, but the conversation moves on, and I can’t track it. That’s because Eric’s fingertips graze lightly over my bare shoulder as he talks.
Okay, what is happening here? It’s not like Eric to toy with my emotions. Or, fine, my libido. I don’t know what he’s playing at. Even after he drops his hand, the whisper of his fingertips is seared into my consciousness the same way my retinas burn from an accidental glance at the sun.
And I’m only human. My subconscious takes the extra step of wondering what would happen next if Eric were actually my boyfriend. We’d head back to my hotel room after this, and then…
Stop it, Darcy. Just stop.
I wasn’t always like this. When I first met Eric, I’d written him off as too nice to be interesting. But everything changed one night on a team road trip. I’d swum some laps in the rooftop pool at our hotel—the Wayfair LA.
When I got out, I’d thought I was alone. Until I heard a feminine gasp from an alcove behind a potted plant. And when I tiptoed over to investigate, I got an eyeful. He had Mona pressed up against a wall, her long legs wrapped around his waist while he…
It was the most arousing five seconds of my life, before I’d recovered my wits and slunk away. But I’ll never forget the raw urgency I saw that night. He was as rough as he was magnificent.
From that day forward, I stopped thinking of him as the nice, bland captain and started dreaming about him instead. It’s inconvenient, especially right this moment, with the heady scent of him surrounding me. I’m probably blushing brighter than a ketchup factory explosion.
Eventually, Maribel and Theo step away to greet other guests, leaving me beside Eric feeling flushed and confused.
I shove another tiny taco into my maw and chew angrily, finally risking a glance at my date.
“What?” he asks, picking up a mini quiche.
I shiver. “Don’t give me what. Why are we suddenly dating, exactly?”
He sighs. “Sorry. That was… impulsive. But I just…” He grabs his cocktail and takes a gulp. “Tessa was so…” He sighs.
I was only gone for five minutes, but… “Wait. Did she hit on you while I was speaking to the DJ?”
His face does something complicated. “Yes,” he says firmly. “And I panicked. So I was trying to send up a signal.”
“Eric Thomas Tremaine.” I let out a wicked chuckle. “You have women hurling themselves at you like moths against a screen door. Every day, probably. And you let my sister break you?”
He rubs his forehead. “Like I said, it was an impulsive thing to do. She doesn’t seem like the kind of girl who gives up, though.”
“Uh-huh.” And now that I think about it, that same fuck buddy from LA—Mona—never quite took the hint after Eric broke things off. Maybe he’s extra wary. “So now I’m your decoy?”
He looks away. Shakes his big, blond head. “Something like that. I can undo the damage, though. I can tell ’em all right now that I was just playing around.”
But that’s when I make an impulsive decision, too. “No, it’s fine. Let’s roll with it.” I grab my drink and take a sip. “This is an excellent cocktail. And we have a dance competition to win.”
He drains his drink. “Sure. Right after I have two more cocktails, maybe that’ll seem like a good idea.”