Page 26 of Darcy
How the hell are we going to work together to show our dream girl she belongs with us?
Ten
Darcy
Istomp through airport security, cursing the asshole who booked our flight for six in the morning. The road crew doesn’t get to travel on a fancy private jet, unlike the band, so we file into economy like the peasants we are.
I should’ve paid to upgrade my seat, but I didn’t want to stand out. Ugh. Now I’m sandwiched between two lighting techs whose names I can’t remember, one of whom is munching his way loudly through an entire pack of Doritos. They’re friendly, but they quickly start talking over the top of me.
Next time, I decide,I’m risking it and upgrading myself to first. I should be sleeping right now, but I can’t even nap, thanks to the uncomfortable sensation of being surrounded by men I don’t know.
It’s barely more than an hour in the air, but touchdown can’t come fast enough.
“Enjoy the city, but don’t forget, bright and early for set up tomorrow,” Sully calls as we deplane into the bright San Jose sunlight. “The band’s trying to hook us a nice bonus this tour, so we gotta make sure we earn it.”
His words barely register through my sleepy fog. Ugh, why is it that even thesunis so peppy this morning?
My Uber is late, becausereasons, and then we hit traffic almost as soon as we leave the airport. To make things worse, my driver is one of the awkward silent ones. I spend a lot of the journey to the hotel wondering if he’s a serial killer, and then trying to figure out which one of us would make it out of the car alive if he was. I’m almost certain it would be me, but I don’t have a chance to test my theory because we rock up at a moderately nice hotel.
As a result of all the morning stress, I’m almost brain dead as I scroll through my phone, waiting for the receptionist to find my booking.
“Miss D’Angelo?”
I look up in alarm at the sharp tone, only to realise from the exasperation on her face that she’s clearly been trying to get my attention for a while. I offer her a bright, apologetic smile that probably doesn’t meet my eyes.
“That’s me, sorry.”
“Your booking has been cancelled,” she repeats, slowly, as if she’s silently doubting my intelligence.
It… has?
“Then I’ll need to re-book,” I suggest, smiling hopefully at her.
“That won’t be necessary.”
A deep voice, smooth and rich, interrupts, and a hand appears at my elbow before I can protest. I don’t need to see who it is; I’ve heard him often enough.
Slate moves me past the line and towards one of the posh brass elevator doors. It takes me half a glance to realise he’s got my suitcase in his other hand, and another to realise he’s staring straight ahead, not looking down at me.
And he would have to look down, because up close like this, it’s never been more clear that he’s giant. Now that I’ve given myself permission to notice him, the scent of his aftershave washes over me like a drugging haze. Rich, smoky, and undeniably Slate.
What on earth is he doing?I glance down at the point where his warm hand is still firmly holding my arm, then up to the mirrored wall of the elevator.
I take in his oversized hoodie, pulled up over his distinctive braids, and the dark—almost black—eyes gleaming with satisfaction from beneath.
“What—?” I barely get the word out before he grins at me.
“Hey,cariño. No running away this time, ‘kay?”
My mouth drops open in shock, and it’s not an act. I was expecting the guys to bring the subject up… I was not expecting to be kidnapped into an elevator and confronted before I’ve even had my coffee for the day. Then my cheeks begin to heat as I finally experience the full effect of being called one of his cute nicknames in person.
No.Bad Darcy, we’re not falling for the sexy Spanish. We are strong, damnit.
“Wh—”
“I’m going to explain everything, but first we’ve got to get you settled in. Want some coffee?” He interrupts me again, and I roll my eyes before I can help it.
“Coffee… would be good…” I admit, still thrown by whatever game he’s playing. “Am I… dreaming?”
