Chapter 12
DARCY
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I've always had vivid dreams full of color and fantasy. I keep a notebook by my bed to write them down. But in all my dream journals, I don't recall any being so realistic that I remember smells or textures, so this one feels different.
I inhale the scent of sandalwood, fresh air, and bubble gum. The smells remind me of Matt. I snuggle into the warmth of the dream and feel muscular arms holding me tight around my waist, a calloused thumb absently rubbing circles on my stomach. There's a slight tickle at my ear that I reflexively swat at, coming into contact with something solid. The body behind me moves, and I hear, "Mmmm, I could get used to this," mumbled in my ear.
"Me too," I reply to my dream.
"Good morning, pretty girl." Wow. My dream speaks. That's odd, but I'm willing to roll with it. I don't want to wake up and lose this feeling of contentment.
I wiggle my body against the solid one that's the big spoon and hold on tight to the large forearms wrapped around me. The warmth feels so good, I barely notice the headache forming.
"You make me feel so good," I respond to my dream.
"Same," the deep voice responds.
I open my eyes slowly, and the dream fog begins to lift. When I suddenly realize it's not a dream, I start to freak out. I'm in a strange room with arms wrapped around me. My mind panics, my body stiffens, and I think backward to the last thing I remember: Chance's beach house. Game night. Sammie. Jay. Matt. Shots. Then nothing.
Without moving, I look around. This is not one of the bedrooms at Chance's. Where am I? Strangely, I'm not afraid, even though I should be. Waking up in an unfamiliar room is not part of my usual behavior pattern. I should be terrified, but if anything, I feel comfortable and content. Safe.
"How ya feeling?" my dream asks. I still want to call him my dream, even though as my brain puts the pieces together, I realize I know this voice.
I don't know how to respond, so I stay silent for a few more seconds. My head is pounding, but it's secondary to my heart racing.
"Oh," he says and pulls away. His sudden departure is like a slap to the face, and a wave of disappointment and sadness fills me. He knows we're a mistake. I'm just a silly girl with a childhood crush. I curl into myself, embarrassed and hurt.
"Right, caffeine," he mumbles. I feel the bed move as he quickly gets out, tossing the covers aside.
My body shudders at the sudden lack of warmth. I blink several times, allowing my eyes to focus and take in my surroundings. I want to close them again and shut out the embarrassment and rejection wrapping around me, but I need to pull it together.
The room is basic beach house with white walls and blue accents. Why do these houses have to look the same? There are a few seashell pictures on the wall. Blah. The furniture is light pine. Boring. Then I notice a familiar floral bag on the nightstand and smile. Sammie.
The clock says it's still early, and as much as I want to pull the blanket over my head and snuggle up in bed, my bladder says something else. I grab the bag and shuffle my way to the ensuite bathroom.
I feel somewhat normal after a quick shower, an abbreviated morning routine, and fresh clothes. My towel-dried hair goes up in a clip. That's the best this is going to get for now.
I need to figure out how to escape this situation with as much dignity as possible. Then, I need to research how to change my identity and start over because Darcy Davidson has officially died of embarrassment.
I cautiously open the bathroom door and find Matt sitting on the side of the bed with a steaming cup of coffee and a tentative smile. He stands up and comes toward me with arms outstretched, handing me the mug like an offering.
"Good morning, pretty girl. I was told coffee first, so here." He thrusts the mug in my direction.
"Thanks," I mumble, taking a small sip and smiling as the dark roast and ample sugar hits my tongue. "Who gave you those instructions?"
"Your girl, Sammie. She packed your bag and gave me strict instructions."
"She's the best." I feel the heat rise in my cheeks. I'm feeling very awkward, but hope blooms as I realize she can help me out of this predicament. "Where is she?"
"Jay took her home so she could get to class this morning." He rocks back on his heels and keeps his hands in his pockets. This is awkward for him, too. Leave it to me to make him uncomfortable in his own home.
Shit. I need to come up with another plan. I'm sure my car isn't here, so I'll need to call an Uber, but getting one on the island during the off-season will take some time. I glance at the nightstand for my phone. I don't see it, but that doesn't mean I should give up on my exit strategy. My phone is probably in my purse, which is, um, where? I need to think. Ugh, my head. Too much vodka for my brain to function. And then there's Matt.
It's hard to concentrate with this distraction right in front of me. I take a moment to appreciate the man watching me while I consume another hit of coffee. His dark hair is mussed and messy, contrasting his typical put-together look. The wrinkled Reapers t-shirt is tight around his biceps. His jeans sit loose and low on his hips, and his hands are shoved in his pockets. And he's barefoot. What is it about this morning casual look that hits me more than usual? Yep. He's pretty damn sexy standing in front of me. This might be a reality, but just rolled out of bed Matt is my dream. Unfortunately, that's a place he'll need to stay.
"I'm sorry about this," I say, motioning to myself up and down. "I didn't think I drank that much. I promise I'm not in the habit of passing out and waking up in strange surroundings."
"I'd hope not," he says as he smiles and winks at me. "You didn't drink that much, but I think the exhaustion caught up with you. Sammie says you haven't been sleeping well?"
"Lots to do. I'll sleep when I'm dead."
His look softens, and he reaches out and puts his palm to my cheek, his thumb gently rubbing my bottom lip. He looks sad.
"No, I won't allow that," he whispers.
I lean into his hand and close my eyes for a moment. The flutter in my chest catches me off guard. When I dare sneak a glance at Matt, he looks conflicted. Apparently, I misread the situation and his attraction. Here I go messing things up again. He's just fulfilling his surrogate big brother role.
Embarrassed, I step away and take another sip of my coffee. I turn and walk out of the bedroom in search of my phone so I can escape and lick my wounds. I find my purse on the kitchen counter, quickly retrieve my phone, and groan because it's at ten percent charge. Hopefully, it's enough.
Quickly I order an Uber, and just like I thought, it'll be a twenty-five-minute wait. I'll have to put on my fake smile for a bit. I finish my coffee and rinse the mug in the kitchen sink, my mind racing with ideas to salvage my dignity.
Matt told me he was renting a small beach house, and this is small compared to Chance's monstrosity. The traditional floor plan opens to a large deck that overlooks the ocean. It fits Matt's style: simple, only the basics. Will he ever get the fancy car or mega-mansion when he makes the big show? Matt's motivation was never money, but I wonder if that will change once he really has it. I hope not.
Outside on the deck, the cool fall air slaps me fully awake.
"You've always wanted to live near the water," I say, sensing he followed me outside.
"Yeah, it's great. I'm enjoying the surf in the morning." Two boards lean against the rail next to a wetsuit.
"I hope I'm not keeping you from your routine." It's not like I haven't already stolen his off-season, but now I've kept him from something he loves.
"Nope. Not at all."
I feel incredibly awkward and contemplate taking the surfboard to escape. Twenty-five minutes feels like forever, so I swallow my pride and devise a quicker way to end this situation.
"Um, do you mind taking me back to get my car?"
"Of course not. Let me get cleaned up, and we'll grab breakfast on the way." He says it like it's an item on his to-do list, with no room for discussion. He turns to head back inside.
"You don't need to do that. I've burdened you enough." This is a bad idea. "Abort, abort," my heart screams. "You know what, I'll just wait outside for my Uber."
I sense his movement halt. The stillness travels down to my bones. Even the surf quiets. "What the hell are you talking about? You called an Uber?" he says gruffly.
"I just," I start. How do I say that I've had a schoolgirl crush on you my whole life, and you don't see me that way? That all guys are measured against Matt Hartman, and none have measured up. How do you admit you are turned on and mortified at the same time?
"Look, you have a life, Matt. I've highjacked enough of it. It's not that I'm not appreciative. I am. So grateful for everything. But you don't have to babysit me anymore. I'll tell Cole you fulfilled your best friend role."
Matt moves back beside me and puts his hands firmly on my shoulders, turning me from the rail and the ocean to look at his beautiful, dark, soulful eyes. I look down, unable to bear the humiliation of unrequited feelings.
"Is that what you think this is?" His tone is angry, very unlike the easygoing Matt I've always known.
I try to pull away from his grip, and he tightens his hold. He releases one hand and puts it below my chin, forcing my eyes to his.
I can't speak, words are stuck in my throat. I nod. The hot tears well in my eyes, and I will them to go away. I will not cry in front of Matt. Yet one more embarrassing thing to add to the list of reasons I need to leave.
Yes, this is Matt being the noble best friend, the good guy that is part of his DNA.
"Oh, pretty girl," he says on the exhale. "I wish I knew what was going on in your beautiful head right now."
I turn my eyes down again. My cheeks flush with heat, mortified by the slightest possibility he could hear my thoughts. My thoughts are more like fantasies of the adult variety that are a secret I'll take to my grave.
His hand slides from my shoulder to my waist, pulling me closer.
"Look at me, Darcy." I move my eyes back to his. His eyes search mine, looking for something, but I won't allow my secret to be known to him. "God, you're so fucking amazing. I have the hardest time keeping my hands off you. I want…" He pulls me even closer. His thumb caresses my cheek, and his warmth spreads throughout my body, making me feel like it's a hot summer day instead of a crisp fall morning. My blush rises up my neck to my face.
My phone blares "Shake It Off," and we both step back. It's Cole calling on FaceTime. I answer, keeping the beach in the background and Matt in front of me.
"Hey, Darce. Sorry to call so early, but hey, are you already at the house? This early?" His head cocks to the side like he's trying to figure out my view and where I am. He would flip if he knew I slept in Matt's bed last night.
"Um, early meetings with contractors," I hedge. "What's up with you?"
Matt looks at me with wide eyes. I try to ignore him, but his glare is severe.
"Wanted to let you know we're coming down tomorrow. Leigh was hoping you could do a little shopping with her while we're in town. That is, if you can spare the time. Hey, you look wiped. Are you okay? I thought Matt was watching over you?"
"Thanks, just what every girl wants to hear. You look horrible." I try for sarcasm, but it comes out a little too sincere.
"I didn't say that, and you know it. You've been busy, and this house renovation is a huge project for you."
Matt gives me a death glare. Does he agree with Cole? That I look horrible?
"It's a big project, but I'm enjoying it. And you can check it out when you're here. Where are ya'll staying?" My stomach is rolling, from last night's vodka or nerves, I'm unsure. Either way, I hope I don't throw up. I feel guilty talking to Cole and I'm not sure why. It's not like anything happened between us, but I feel like I'm lying to him. Hell, the only one I'm lying to is myself.
"I thought I'd treat Leigh to a little romance downtown at one of the bed and breakfasts. I was hoping you could hang out with her while I work with Matt at the baseball clinic on Saturday. And then brunch with Mom on Sunday, of course."
"Of course. That would be great. We'll have a full girl's day."
"I appreciate you doing this on short notice. And invite Sammie too. Leigh will love her, and it's been too long since I've seen that girl."
"Sounds great. I'll take care of her, Cole."
His eyes soften. He's changed since he's been engaged to Ashleigh. She's his everything, and my heart tightens a little. I wonder if I'll ever have someone love me like that. "I know you will. Now we need someone to take care of you," he teases with a wink.
"I'm good. Don't need anyone taking care of me," I grumble.
"Not what I mean, and you know it. You're a rockstar. Gotta run. Love you, Darce."
"Love you too. See you tomorrow."
I look back at Matt. "Sorry about that," I say to his retreating figure. A door slams, and a horn honks out front. My Uber must be here.
I grab my purse and head to the waiting car. I've got contractors to meet and plans to make. This girl's day might be the distraction I need.