Chapter 40 The Only Thing on the List
The Only Thing on the List
Darcy
My exams are in two days, and I really should be studying.
Instead, I’m lacing up my sneakers and taking a surreptitious glance in the mirror to make sure my makeup isn’t smudged.
The song ends, and another heartbreaker comes on, and I’m not even paying attention.
But then I catch Eric listening to it with a thoughtful frown, and I realize that playing “Cruel Summer” right after “August” is giving him a look into my soul that was never intended.
So I snatch my phone up and pause the music.
“New playlist?” he asks.
“Background noise,” I insist. “I’ve been studying. So let’s make this quick.”
“I’ll settle for as much of your time as you can spare,” he says quietly. “Come on. It’s a nice night.”
He’s not wrong. There’s a sliver of a moon as I step outside of the room I chose for myself and Zoe. It’s on the end, away from the chaos, and the doors on this level open to the outside, like a roadside motel.
The camp where we stay for training camp is a few miles outside of the town of Lake Placid. It’s a beautiful lakeside retreat, with a swimming dock and a fire pit that’s very popular with the players after hours.
Eric turns in the other direction, though, toward the lake, where it should be quieter. There’s just enough moonlight to see the path. And when we reach a branch lying across it, Eric takes my hand and helps me over it. Then he somehow forgets to let go, and I somehow forget to call him out on it.
It’s wonderfully quiet here, but I feel a lot of tension in the silence between us, and I don’t know what to do about it. “Why did you bring me cookies, Eric?”
“Because I miss you,” he says immediately. “Do you miss me even a little?”
Oh boy. “I’m gonna have to plead the Fifth.”
“I think you do,” he says easily. “You even made yourself a heartbreak playlist.”
Busted. Not that I’ll concede the point. “It’s a Taylor Swift playlist!”
“Same thing.” He suddenly swings an arm out in front of me, deftly catching a branch I’d been about to walk right into.
“Thanks,” I murmur, ducking underneath. “Let’s just say that you were right, and I do miss you. It doesn’t matter, though. Because none of our issues are solved.”
“No, they’re not,” he admits. “But now I have some brand-new problems, like what I’m doing with my life.”
“You figured that out a long time ago,” I insist. “Better than most people.”
“Did I?” He shakes his head. “I spend all my time trying to be the best hockey player I can and to be the best son that I can. And yet I haven’t won a championship, and my mom needs a lot of therapy.”
I laugh in spite of myself.
We reach the freshly mowed lawn that runs down to a collection of wooden benches. They’re just shapes in the darkness. And the lake is a big, black void beyond, except for a gorgeously shiny bit where the moonlight sparkles in the distance.
Our footsteps are silent in the grass, and Eric speaks to me in a hushed tone.
“You were the one who pointed this out, but I’m not in the habit of doing things for myself.
But I think I’m going to start. By the way—office hours are a screaming success.
People seem to have fewer problems now that they have to sort it out themselves for a day before they can unload it on me. ”
I have to smile. “Who knew?”
“You did.” He squeezes my hand. “Problem is—now I have a lot more free time, and I could be spending it on myself, but I forgot how.”
Oh, Eric.
“This probably started the day my brother died. Treating myself didn’t seem fair to anyone, I guess. So thank you for pointing that out to me, too.”
“You’re… welcome?” I don’t feel any glee about this, though. It’s probably a mercy that Danny Tremaine will never know how much trauma his family endured after his death.
The moon disappears under a cloud, and it’s suddenly very dark. Like, horror movie dark. But I’m not even a little bit scared, because Eric Tremaine is holding my hand. I’ve never felt so safe with someone who also makes my heart pound.
“… It’s giving me all the big thoughts,” he says. “About what’s important. And what do I want in my life that’s just for me? You should know that you’re at the top of my list. Honestly, you’re the only thing on the list.”
My feet pause in the grass, and I’m too conflicted to respond. I don’t trust myself right now.
But Eric doesn’t seem to care. He takes both my hands in his, and I can feel my resistance crumbling.
This is bad.
“The time we had together in Massachusetts was really special,” he says. “I didn’t want it to end.”
I remember to breathe. “Of course you didn’t. Lots of sex and no consequences.”
“That’s only one interpretation. The narrowest, worst one. Because everything is different with you. More intense.”
That’s exactly what I’m afraid of. “Intensity isn’t always a blessing. One minute you’re roasting marshmallows, and the next second the whole forest is ablaze. And then we’re back to—whose life is going to burn down first?”
He steps closer. “Yeah, I heard you on that. But if you change your mind, I’m here to try for more, maybe for the first time in my life. I’ve avoided entanglements for years. But all I want now is to be entangled with you.”
The moon slips back into the sky, illuminating a pair of serious gray eyes focused on me like a tractor beam. And I’m at war with myself. On the one hand, I trust Eric’s good intentions. I trust him with my body, and I trust him with my life.
But I don’t trust this. Life just doesn’t work this way—with the star hockey player who’s been dancing through your dreams suddenly realizing you exist, then getting tongue-tied and emotional about you beside a pristine lake.
The riot happening inside my heart isn’t stopping him, though. He leans down, eyes smoldering. And the kiss he gives me is a slow, serious thing. Soft lips and quiet heat.
With my self-control suddenly on the fritz, I tilt my chin up to meet him and…
Somebody sneezes. Very loudly. And very close by.
Eric and I jump apart. And I’m getting those horror movie vibes again as a body slowly rises from one of the shadowy benches. “Aw, O’Connell! You wrecked the Cap’s moment!” The voice belongs to a player—Jake Emerson.
Another body rises, zombielike, from another bench. “The grass was just cut, and I’m allergic!” he sputters. “Sorry, Cap!”
Ice water washes through my veins, and I make a noise of dismay. And Eric, still holding both my hands, looks like he might explode. “What the fuck are you doing out here, hiding in the dark? Are you spying on us?”
“Jesus, no.” Another shadow rises—this one from the grass. “The app said there was a fifty percent chance of seeing the northern lights. You gotta lie around in the dark for that. Could you, uh, check me for ticks? I mean… after the kiss maybe?”
I yank my hands from Eric’s and take a step back.
And then another one. I’m supposed to be studying right now.
I’m not supposed to be blowing up my life and my job on the off chance that Eric might want to date me for a few months.
Until he suddenly remembers why dating is complicated, while noticing all the songwriters and underwear models still throwing themselves at his feet.
“Darcy,” he says. “Wait.”
But that only makes it worse. If his teammates couldn’t see well enough in the dark to know who they were listening to, they sure as hell know now.
I turn my back and run.
When Zoe enters our shared room an hour later, I’m sitting on the bed in silence, googling “rental cars, Lake Placid, New York,” and holding a piece of toilet paper to my brow bone. And when I drop it, she lets out a little eep of surprise.
“Oh God! What happened to your face? And your knee. Oh my God.”
“It looks worse than it is,” I say stiffly. “There was a branch in the woods…” The same one that Eric had held out of the way for me? It had smacked me in the face as I made my hasty departure from the lakeside.
And then? I tripped over the branch on the trail and went splat into the gravel, too, skinning my knee like a toddler.
“Oh, honey,” Zoe says with real anguish.
“It looks worse than it is,” I repeat, and then I squint at her. “Wait. Does my face look that bad? Or are they gossiping already?”
She winces. “I wouldn’t call it gossip. More like concern.”
“Concern about what?” I demand, sliding off the bed. This is a complete disaster. My number one goal was making sure that the team—and the Legends management—don’t see me as the kind of employee who fools around with the players.
But then I did something colossally stupid, and I can only guess what they’ll all be discussing on the five-hour bus ride home tomorrow.
“Why are you holding your arm like that?” Zoe asks.
I look down at my left arm, which I’m clutching against my body. “I fell on it when I skinned my knee. It’s fine.”
She takes a slow breath. Then she grabs her handbag off the dresser and beckons. “Come on. You’re coming with me.”
“Where?”
“To find the team doctor.” She leaves you idiot off that sentence, although it’s implied.
“I’m studying.”
She lunges toward the bed and grabs my accounting textbook, tucking it under her arm. “Now, Darcy. Right now.”
Knowing she isn’t likely to back down, I follow her out.