Page 28 of Thaw My Heart
“Oh, come on! What happened to the macho, tough guy act?”
I look at her out of the corner of my eye and just barely keep an expression of disgust off of my face.
“He doesn’t want to get alcohol poisoning before eight p.m.”
“Well, he can just get over it,” Darcy says, taking a sip of her drink. “And besides, you said you’re buying. I had no choice but to get the big size. It’s just economical.”
“Oh, is that right?” I grimace. “So, not only willIbe hurting, but my bank account will be hurting, too.”
Darcy grins. “That’s the plan.”
A group of guests enters the bar, noses and ears still red from the bitter cold outside. They shed their coats and scarves and scatter around the room. A pair of young women get a bit too close for comfort, settling down a couple of seats away from Darcy and me. They loudly chat with one another, and I pointedly ignore them and do my best to keep my attention on Darcy.
“So, how long’s it been since you split with Milo?” I ask. “It was before the New Year, wasn’t it?”
Darcy hums. “Yeah, the weekend after Halloween. So…” Her brow furrows as she thinks. “It’s been just about five months.” Her eyes meet mine. “How long’s it been for you?”
I suddenly feel sick. I suppose the question is fair game. I asked first, after all. But Claudia’s face is flashing in my brain, and I think I might throw up.
“It’ll be a year in May,” I say after swallowing thickly. I take a sip of my drink and find comfort in the sting of it going down my throat.
Darcy seems to notice because her features soften and she frowns.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to?—”
“It’s fine,” I say. Because it is. It’s fine. It doesn’tfeelfine, but Darcy doesn’t have to know that. As far as she’s concerned, everything is perfectly fucking fine.
“No, it’s?—”
“Excuse me.” One of the girls sitting next to us interrupts, moving as close as she can get without actually touching myshoulder, and flashes a smile at me. She doesn’t even spare Darcy a polite glance. It’s like she’s invisible. And I don’t have to look at Darcy to know it’s pissing her off.
“Yeah?” I enquire without bothering to mask the annoyance in my voice. The girl clearly pregamed, and if I had to guess, she and her friends have been drinking all day. Which is frustrating enough because the worst kinds of skiing accidents happen when a bunch of drunk college kids decide to take some risks.
“My friend over there,” she says as she points sloppily to the blushing brunette behind her, “Emma. She thinks you’re cute.”
I raise an eyebrow at Emma, who turns an alarming shade of red and looks away. She looks like she’s barely eighteen, with big doe eyes and round cheeks. She looks sweet, but I have a rule that I like to stick to, which is that I don’t mess around with girls younger than my sister, because if someone any older than me messed around with Maya, I’d want to send him to an early grave.
I look at Emma’s blonde advocate. “Tell your friend I’m flattered, but I’m here with someone.” I glance over at Darcy, her eyes hardened and jaw clenched, just in time to see her pale skin go bright pink where her cheeks and her nose intercept. Her eyes meet mine, and I see something like confused amazement in them.
The brief moment of wonder only lasts for a moment before it’s completely shattered by the brunette girl, suddenly rather upset, standing up and staring right at Darcy.
“Her? You’re here withher? But she’s?—”
Darcy stands up and stares right back at the girl. “You’d better be careful what you say next.”
I’m not sure who to look at. I almost feel as though I should be prepared to step between them when fists start flying.
I’mflattered.Who would’ve thought? Darcy fighting overme? Not in a million years did I ever picture a scene like this before me. The other way around maybe.
Huh. She really has changed.
I don’t have long to ponder over that thought, because Darcy is closing in on Emma, and I really don’t want to have to explain this to my boss. I send Emma and her friend away and usher Darcy to a table in the back.
She’s seething, cheeks red and eyes permanently narrowed.
“Wanna talk about it?” I ask, and I know that my amusement is only making her angrier, but I just can’t help it. Darcy—little redheaded Darcy—being angry is like watching a kitten bite. It’s adorable.
“No,” she replies bluntly, folding her arms across her chest.
