Chapter 7

MATT

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The pieces fall into place. Darcy is decorating Chance's beach house. His hockey schedule is packed, so early morning meet-ups make more sense. Probably explains her being there with him at dawn. Maybe. They looked pretty cozy that morning.

Chance seems like a genuinely nice guy. He was there for Ashleigh when she needed help. Maybe Darcy is his next damsel in distress? It was innocent with Ashleigh, and he didn't seem interested in Darcy that way and even admitted she was too good for him. That's the truth if I've ever heard it. Hell, no guy is good enough for her.

Darcy is top-shelf. Unique. Amazing. Beautiful. Funny. Sexy. Hell, there I go again. Where did that thought come from? She's my best friend's little sister. So, by default, she's like my little sister. And no one thinks their sister is sexy. At least, I hope no one does.

After breakfast, Chance got a call from Julian, his agent and best friend, and said he had to get back to his team, cutting the meeting short. I assured Chance I would be Darcy's assistant and make certain she doesn't get overwhelmed. Chance seems satisfied with our new arrangement and leaves an envelope with cash for Darcy's expenses. Since she technically can't get paid for this school project, Chance is taking care of her rent and other bills so she can focus. As much as I hate to admit it, he's a stand-up guy.

"So, where do we start?" I ask Darcy.

"Matt, you don't have to do this. Sammie has set me up with this great spreadsheet to keep me organized. I need to order everything, so it's just a lot of shopping. I know how much you hate that." She smiles at me, and her eyes sparkle with mischief. She's baiting me. Yes, I hate shopping. I do it for necessities and I don't labor over the right shoe or a specific color of blue like she does. Going to the mall with Darcy and Sammie was only entertaining because Cole and I gave snarky color commentary over their selections. We were total assholes to them, even if we secretly thought they were fantastic.

Darcy has a panache for finding the perfect thing. She has an artistic eye and knows how to take the ordinary and make it extraordinary. That takes time and thought. Time. It's something I have now. I can do this for her. I mean, how hard can this be?

Even though she always appears relaxed and casual, her mind is on a mission to find the special touch. Her shopping ventures are intense. With the Darcy magic, everything is elevated. Hell, it practically sparkles.

"Darce, make a list, use that spreadsheet, whatever. I'm in. I'll take you where you need to go, carry the bags, whatever you need." Even though I know she doesn't need it, I reach out for her hand to help her out of the booth. I want to show her I can be supportive.

Her hazel eyes come to life. The tiredness fades a little, and a smile grows at the corners of her perfect lips. "You're sure about this? I know you have other things to do."

"I'm sure. Let's go." I pull her up, and she wraps her arms around my waist, embracing me with a clinging hug.

I chuckle at her enthusiasm, hold her tight, and kiss the top of her head like her big brother's best friend would do. Her friend. But right now, my body doesn't feel friendly. I react to her touch, and my dick wakes up. Her messy hair tickles my cheek. She smells like vanilla and sugar, and I take a quick inhale. Putting some space between us, I pull her back and motion to the front door.

What am I doing? This is Darcy Davidson. I shake my head to clear my wayward thoughts. "Your chariot awaits."

Her giggle is all it takes to bring those thoughts right back. Making Darcy smile and laugh is my current life goal. It's the best sound in the world, and makes me feel things I've never felt before.

I'm seriously screwed.