12. Mack
CHAPTER TWELVE
mack
I notice the second her laugh starts coming slower.
The fire’s burned down to coals by then, throwing just enough light across the living room to catch the edge of Darcy’s face where she’s curled into the corner of the couch, one hand tucked beneath her cheek, Tyler’s hoodie swallowing her whole.
I try not to watch her as she fights sleep, but it’s hard to miss.
The blinks come slower as the night wears on, the laugh that usually follows something Tyler says arriving a beat late.
Every time the wind rattles the windows, she pulls her feet a little farther underneath herself until eventually, somewhere in the middle of a college hockey story Ty still swears wasn’t his fault, her eyes close.
A minute later they’re still closed.
She’d spent most of the night laughing and arguing and asking questions she already knew were going to cause trouble. Now she’s quiet, curled into the corner of the couch with that loose curl caught near her mouth again, looking softer than she did an hour ago.
More dangerous too.
Tipsy and laughing and looking at me like she was trying to solve a puzzle was one thing.
This is something else. Seeing her like this—comfortable enough to fall asleep downstairs, comfortable enough to steal Tyler’s hoodie and claim half the couch without thinking twice about it—hits me like something I don’t have a good name for.
I keep looking anyway.
Tyler glances over from the kitchen while he rinses the last glass.
“She’s done.”
“I can see that.”
I don’t look away from her.
Tyler dries his hands on a dish towel, following my line of sight before tossing it over his shoulder.
“You gonna carry her up?”
He asks like he doesn’t already know the answer.
“You volunteering?”
“Please.” He snorts. “I’ve been watching you ignore her all day. I think you’ve earned this one.”
“How so?”
“Don’t tell me you haven’t been waiting for an excuse to touch her all day.” He crosses his arms. “I know I have”
I give him a flat look.
“Kidding.” His mouth twitches. “Mostly.”
He knows me too well and has seen too much for me to try to deny it now. I’ve been noticing it all day without meaning to. The way she’d stood in our kitchen this morning, pink-cheeked and trying not to stare while Tyler cooked.
The way she called me Mason, like my legal name on her tongue didn’t make me wanna bend her over right then and there and blow her back out.
The way she’d laughed until she had to grab the cushion and how she blushed after me and Tyler threw our cards on the table. Same way she had in the bathroom a few weeks ago before she caught herself staring.
I know what attraction looks like. I just don’t usually spend this much time thinking about it afterward.
I scrub a hand across my jaw.
“I’ve got her.”
Tyler nods once, his teasing gone but his smile still present.
The rug softens my steps as I cross the room toward her. She’s still tucked into herself, hair half across her face, lips parted, one hand curled loosely around the edge of the throw like she’d fallen asleep mid-reach. I stand over her a second longer than I need to.
A month ago she was the pretty girl who rented the apartment upstairs. Now she’s asleep on my couch after talking about mine and Tyler’s threesomes with her eyes bouncing between us like she wanted to know more.
This is not good for any of us.
I crouch beside the couch and slide one arm underneath her knees, the other behind her back. Darcy stirs immediately. A soft sound escapes her, more breath than word, and her face turns toward my chest.
She melts into me without opening her eyes, one hand catching in the front of my shirt as she tucks herself closer.
Christ.
The weight of her shouldn’t feel this good, but standing there with her curled against me, warm and sleep-heavy and completely unguarded, it’s becoming increasingly harder to remember why keeping my distance ever seemed like a realistic plan.
I start mentally naming baseball Hall of Famers to keep my cock from jerking to full attention.
Her hair smells like whatever floral shampoo she uses and something vanilla.
She makes another quiet sound and curls closer, one hand curling loosely in the front of my shirt as I stand there holding her.
Tyler, from the kitchen, lets out a low whistle.
I shoot him a look and he just smiles even wider.
“Yeah…that’s gonna be a long walk upstairs.”
I keep walking.
“She didn’t even hesitate.”
“Tyler.”
He raises both hands.
“What?” His grin turns less smug. “I’m just saying, you look a lot less annoyed about this than you did this morning.”
I don’t answer. If I did open my mouth, something honest would come out, and enough lines got crossed tonight without adding that one to the list.
The stairs creak underneath my weight but Darcy doesn’t stir. Her apartment is freezing by now, and my room is warmer and closer. It makes more sense to let her sleep up here.
I push open my bedroom door with my shoulder pretending that the practicality of it all doesn’t feel an excuse.
The room is dim except for the lamp on the nightstand I’d left on. I cross to the bed and lower her as carefully as I can, but the second her head finds the pillow she burrows deeper into it.
My pillow.
Her hair spreads across the dark pillowcase, soft lips parted and Tyler’s hoodie enveloping her in a way that’s got me jealous of a piece of clothing.
I sit on the edge of the bed and pull the duvet over her.
The same loose curl that’s been falling across her face all day has found its way back across her mouth.
Before I’ve decided anything, my knuckles are at her temple, slow, tucking it back. Her skin is warm. She turns into the touch with a sigh, nuzzling into my pillow, and I stay exactly where I am for a few seconds longer than I should.
I push to my feet and lean over the nightstand, tearing a page from the notebook. I leave the note on the empty pillow beside her before killing the lamp.
The door closes behind me all the way, the latch catching with a soft click that doesn’t feel as final as I’d like. One hand stays on the frame while I stare at the closed door, putting a few feet of hallway between us like that’s somehow going to make a difference.
Tyler’s already at the island when I get back downstairs, pouring another bourbon.
He slides the second glass across without looking.
I take it, and for a while neither of us says anything.
We stand there shoulder to shoulder, watching snow blow past the windows the way we’ve stood through everything else that didn’t come with easy words.
Tyler breaks first.
“She likes you.”
“That obvious?”
“To me?” He tips his glass. “You carried her upstairs like you were navigating a minefield.”
I stare out at the street, rolling the glass between my palms.
“She likes you too,” I say after a minute.
“I know.”
My mind goes right back upstairs. To the way she’d tucked herself against my chest, her laugh, the look on her face when that card hit the table. To the fact that she’s asleep in my bed because carrying her one more flight of stairs felt harder than it should’ve.
“This is different.”
“She is.”
“No,” I shake my head. “This.”
Tyler studies me for a second before a grin tugs at the corner of his mouth.
“…Sure bro. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
I take another drink.
“On the couch. Considering our tenant is currently occupying your Alaskan King bed.”
I shoot him a glare.
I’m gonna throttle him one of these days.
“We should cool it,” I bite the words out.
“And tell her what exactly?” He looks at me. “Hey, Darcy. We really like hanging out with you, but we both wanna bang you, so we’re gonna go ghost?”
“She still lives upstairs,” I say instead. “She’s our tenant, Tyler.”
Tyler shrugs.
“We’re all adults.”
“That’s the part you’re hanging your hat on?”
His smile fades a little.
“If this goes sideways…”
“There isn’t a clean way out,” Tyler finishes quietly.
That hangs between us. Neither of us has ever had to untangle something like that before. We’ve always been good at keeping things simple. Have fun. Everybody knows the deal. Everybody leaves happy. Nobody’s life changes on Monday morning.
I take another sip.
“We haven’t even touched her and there’s already too many logistics.”
Tyler’s gaze drifts toward the ceiling.
“Well…” He scratches the back of his neck. “Selfishly? I’m not really interested in sitting this one out with you big bro.”
I look at him.
“Ty, you do not touch her.”
He arches a brow.
“Without me.”
He crosses his arms and smiles slyly.
“I thought this was about logistics.”
“It is.”
“Didn’t sound like logistics.”
I look back toward the window.
“That’s because you’re listening to the wrong part.”
He waits.
“She deserves better than us making a mess of all of our lives because neither of us could keep it in our pants.”
Tyler doesn’t answer this time. He doesn’t have to, because we both know that’s only part of the truth.
No argument or plan. Just the uncomfortable realization that somewhere between breakfast and bourbon we’d stopped talking about a girl we wanted to bang…
…and started talking about someone who could change everything if we got this wrong.