Page 63 of Hang the Moon
Elle and Margot’s apartment was ten minutes from his office, fifteen if he caught every traffic light, which, mercifully, he did not. He made it across town in eight minutes, a new record, and glided to a stop beside the curb just as it started to drizzle.
Elle answered his knock, bouncing on her bare toes in the doorway. “Hey, Brendon. Come on in.” She stepped back and shouted, “Darce, your brother’s here!”
Like always, the place smelled faintly of patchouli, but beneath that was a sharper, more acrid smell. Cloyingly sweet and also... burned. Upon entering the kitchen, the culprit was clear. A plate of chocolate chip cookies—he was pretty sure those had been chocolate chips, perhaps raisins—sat on the counter, their edges charred black.
Elle reached inside a cabinet, withdrawing an assortment of cups, none of them matching. She placed his favorite, a cup resembling a mock Holy Grail, in front of him. “We’ve got theusual suspects. Wine, water, and...” She shut one eye, thinking. “Coffee.”
“Water works, thanks.”
“Oh! We might have hot chocolate but it’s the kind without the marshmallows.”
“No, you have the ones with marshmallows. They’re behind your coffee filters, beside the box of apple cider packets that expired in 2014.” Darcy stepped inside the kitchen, posting up against the counter. “Hey. You made it.”
“When have I ever missed game night?” He smiled when Elle passed him his cup of water. “Thanks.”
Elle paused in the doorway of the kitchen, a plastic souvenir cup of rosé in hand. “You guys coming?”
“In a second,” Darcy said. “I need to talk to Brendon about something.”
“Sure. We’re still waiting on Annie, anyway.”
Elle skipped from the kitchen, leaving him with Darcy.
“Annie didn’t come with you?” He frowned.
Darcy crossed her arms, pinching the stem of her wineglass. It was probably the only real glass in this apartment. “No. She wasn’t at my apartment when I came home from work. I texted her and she said something about wandering the market. I gave her Elle’s address and she promised to meet us here.” Darcy flipped her wrist over, checking the time. “If she’s not here in fifteen minutes, I’ll text her. Until then, I thought I’d take advantage of her not being here so you and I could have a little tête-à-tête.”
He couldn’t help but laugh. “Tête-à-tête?”
“Do you want to hear what Annie told me after you dropped her off yesterday or not?”
His stomach contorted, because of course he wanted to know what Annie had said, especially if it had to do with him. “Let me think... is water wet?”
Darcy rolled her eyes. “She thinks you’re sweet. You make her laugh. She told me you have chemistry.”
He nodded slowly. Sweet. Funny. Chemistry. His brows rose. Yeah, he could work with that. “Great.”
“But—”
“Why does there always have to be abut?” he muttered.
Darcy frowned sympathetically. “I think she’s afraid that you like the idea of her more than you like her.”
Like the idea of her more than... “What gave her that idea? That’s completely not true. That’s—” He broke off with a groan. “Jesus. Does this have to do with my crush? Because come on. Last Friday was the first time I had seen Annie in eight years. I’m not carrying a torch for the girl I used to like when I was in high school. I like Annienow.”
He’d had a great time getting to know who Annie was now. A fantastic time. She was hilarious, her sense of humor meshing perfectly with his. She could laugh at herself and she was—fuck, she was stunning. There were sparks. The sort of connection he’d been searching for, unable to find no matter how many dates he went on.
There was nothing wrong with any of the girls he’d dated, but they hadn’t been right for him. The last few dates he’d gone on had been with women he’d met on OTP, and on paper, they’dhad plenty in common. But in person? Nothing. He hadn’t felt any of the sparks he was supposed to when they’d spoken, and his skin hadn’t tingled when they touched. He hadn’t even felt remotely warm.
Nothing held a candle to the way he burned when Annie touched him.
He didn’t want to put the cart before the horse and call Anniethe one, but there was too much potential between them for him to just throw in the towel. If anything, it sounded like he needed to step up his game.
“Iknow you do,” Darcy stressed. “You’re a romantic, but I never pegged you as certifiable. I’d have never asked you to spend time with my best friend if I thought you were just trying to live out some teenage fantasy.”
“But that’s what Annie thinks?”
“She didn’t say that. She didn’t mention your crush on her at all, actually.” Darcy took a sip of wine and set her glass aside. “What I’m about to tell you is in confidence, okay?”
