Page 94 of Thrown for a Loop
“I don’t know who Mona is.” That’s not even a lie.
“Aw.” She leans over and squeezes my shoulder. “Youarea good friend. You weren’t going to tell me, were you? Was Mona there? Brown hair? Six feet tall? All legs?”
I nod. “That does sound familiar.”
Darcy lets out a small sigh. “She’s anunderwearmodel, for fuck’s sake. Who could compete with that? But I almost feel sorry for the girl. They started off as fuck buddies, but he keeps breaking it off. Then a month or two will pass, and she’ll start texting him again. He always gives in eventually.” She lets out a little sigh. “Hell, Mona is responsible for my little crush on our fearless captain.”
“How’s that?”
She sips her wine. “I’ve always thought Eric was just the greatest guy. Mature. Kind. Smart. Gorgeous face. Perfect, right?”
I nod.
“But I assumed he was just toonicefor sexytimes. A girl likes to be thrown around a little, you know?”
Again I nod, even though I don’t actually know. I’ve been to bedwith exactly two men—one of them was teenage Chase, so I can hardly remember the sex itself. I was too caught up in the emotions.
The other was my husband. He never threw me around, however that’s supposed to work. I used to lie there and think about choreography while waiting for him to finish.
“Then, this one time, I was on a road trip to LA with the team? And Mona turns up at the team hotel. I went up to the rooftop pool to swim a few laps, and there was nobody else up there but me.” She grins. “Or so I thought! On my way out, I heard a strange banging noise coming from this alcove full of potted plants. And when I peeked in there, I saw them, up against the wall.” Darcy puts a hand to her chest and takes a shaky breath. “He was magnificent. Who knew a guy could be so nice and also so nasty? My mind was blown—I haven’t been the same since.”
“Oh my.” I gulp my wine.
“He’s, like, my ideal perfect guy.” She sighs. “And Mona’s, I guess. Poor thing. She wants a relationship, and he doesn’t.”
“How do you know?”
She shakes her head. “Don’t let their muscles fool you. Those men gossip like a bunch of hens in the henhouse. I hear things.”
I laugh.
“Meanwhile, I go on terrible date after terrible date. Last night’s was another horror show.”
“Ohno. What now?”
“His photos on the app were cute enough. But up close? His beard had crumbs in it, and he reeked of cigarette smoke.” She makes a face. “Hereeked. My eyes were watering. I ended up faking a family emergency to get out of there.”
“You make dating sound so appealing,” I say, eyeing the TV to make sure we haven’t missed anything.
“It’s rough out there.”
“I don’t need a man anyway,” I announce. “Too distracting. I just need to keep my job. Hey—did you give those scouting reports to Sharp for me?”
“Of course.”
“And?”
She winces. “He took one look and said, ‘Still too wordy.’”
“God damn it.”
Darcy waves a hand. “That was barely a criticism. We grade on a curve when it comes to Mr. Sharp.”
“I guess.”
The game starts up again, and I watch Jean-Luc Moreau defend the puck against one of Pittsburgh’s best. He uses his bulk to hold off the attacker. But as soon as he has to move the puck down the ice, he’s overtaken.
A Pittsburgh winger skates off with the puck, and Darcy curses. “Can you please fix that man? Watching him skate causes me physical pain.”
