Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 98324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
I turn back to Darcy, wondering if she’d like another drink. I find her gazing back at me with gentle eyes. “The captain of all things,” she says softly.
The praise makes my neck heat. “Want another cocktail? I’m switching to ginger ale, but you don’t have to drive.”
Her gaze lingers so long I don’t think she’s going to answer. “Two ginger ales, then, for the likely winners of the dance-off.”
Chapter 15
So Many Questions
Darcy
I have so many questions,” Zoe says over speakerphone the next morning as I style my hair in the bathroom of my hotel room. “In the first place, did you win the dance-off?”
“No idea. It didn’t occur to me to ask.”
My friend—the Olympic skating medalist—gives an impatient sniff. “You’ve got to give me something. Was Eric a fantastic dancer?”
I catch myself smiling in the vanity mirror. “He moves really well. But he was oddly nervous.”
Zoe lets out a squeal of delight. “What I wouldn’t give to see that.”
“It was…” I think of his hands resting lightly on the silk of my dress and give a little shiver. “It was fun,” I admit.
“But now your whole family thinks you’re dating? I’m going to need frequent updates.”
“Updates? There won’t be any. This so-called relationship will expire next month before the bridal bouquet.”
“You never know,” she says. “This could be the beginning of something big. Maybe someday you’ll be telling the story to your grandchildren. ‘Auntie Tessa was a skank and hit on Grandpa. So he pretended to be my boyfriend and now we haven’t spent a day apart in fifty years.’”
I snort. “Dream on. Even when it’s not fake, I never last more than three dates with anyone. Eric doesn’t date, either. He sleeps with underwear models, and then he pushes them away the second they get clingy.”
Just ask Mona. According to team gossip, she’s still turning up from time to time at Eric’s apartment building, hoping he’ll relent and invite her in. Poor girl.
“Let’s break this down,” Zoe says. “You can only last three dates because you always swipe right on assholes. And then you act surprised when things don’t work out. I’m not exactly sure what Tremaine’s deal is, but maybe he’s just been dating the wrong women.”
“His deal is that he’s a rich, attractive guy. Getting bored and moving on is part of their DNA. And even if he settles down someday, it will be with some superhuman who’s also the CEO of her own charity. And runs marathons for fun.”
“Wow,” Zoe says. “It’s almost mind-blowing how you’re the least romantic person I have ever met.”
“Accurate. But I have my reasons. You’ve heard my stories.” I always tell Zoe about my worst dates, because they’re so entertaining.
“They’re not all frogs,” she insists. “I finally found my prince.”
“Of course you did,” I say, just to keep the peace. I don’t point out that she had a terrible, soul-crushing relationship with someone else first.
Or that most of us never find an off-ramp from the dating express highway. Devoted men are rarer than quiet moments at a Legends game. I’m happy for Zoe that she doesn’t understand that. But we don’t all have her luck.
“This is going to make the wedding interesting,” she says. “And just think—you’ll have someone to slow dance with at the reception. Maybe that’s why Eric decided to make you his fake girlfriend.”
“I doubt it.” In the cool light of day, I’m still pretty confused about why Eric pulled this ruse. Tessa can be annoying, for sure. But how annoying could she have really been in the five minutes I’d left him alone?
“What are you wearing to the wedding? Should I brace myself for a fashion crisis?”
“Possibly? I need to look ravishing enough to annoy my sister, but I don’t want Eric to think I’m trying too hard. I need to play it cool.”
As if that’s possible. Last night I’d spent an embarrassing amount of time smiling up at the darkened ceiling of my hotel room, remembering the serious crease in the middle of Eric’s forehead during our silly dance number. And the weight of his hand on my waist during our cha-cha.
And the scent of his cologne at close range.
“If you need a shopping buddy, I’ll… suggest someone,” Zoe says.
I crack up. “Can’t bring yourself to walk into a department store, even for your best friend?”
“As if I’d be any help. If it’s not workout gear or a skating costume, it’s pretty much a mystery to me.”
“I love you anyway.”
“And I am grateful. Gotta go! Chase and I are going to the gym together.”
“So romantic,” I tease.
She drops her voice. “He looks really good sweaty. And pumping iron always puts him in the mood.”
“Go on, then,” I snicker. “I have to finish getting ready for brunch.”
We hang up, and I put on some music and finish my hair, until Eric’s name lights up my phone with a text. My stomach flips right on cue.