Just Fooling Around(20)
Or maybe not.
She shifted, intending to swing her purse over her arm, then realized she didn’t have a purse. She patted her back pocket, feeling her driver’s license and the fifty-dollar bill that Cam had handed her. She didn’t even realize she’d been glancing down as she stepped past the doorman until she glanced back up and felt the sharp stab to her heart. Not the bad you’ve-been-mugged-on-the-streets-of-Manhattan kind of stab, but the good man-of-your-fantasies-staring-right-at-you kind of stab. The kind that’s hot and cold at the same time and makes your skin go all prickly and your knees go week and your mouth go dry.
The kind of stab that Darcy got whenever she looked at Evan Olsen—and this time, he was looking right back.
He stood for a moment—and for one exquisite instant it seemed that he was as desperate for her as she was for him—then a wide grin broke out across his face, and the desire she’d imagined shifted into the familiar, friendly expression she’d seen so many times on her big brother’s best friend’s face. “Darcy! Hey! I’m so glad I caught you.”
Hope fluttered through her, and she took a step toward him, intending to speak, but no words coming out because her mouth was suddenly full of cotton. Or sandpaper. Or sandpaper wrapped in cotton.
“Darcy?”
She coughed. “Sorry. Thinking. I’ve been working on this algorithm, and—”
“And suddenly the blank expression makes tons of sense.”
She laughed. “I swear it’s a really fascinating algorithm.”
“Aren’t they all?” he asked, completely deadpan.
“Are you here to see Cam?” she asked, which was a totally inane thing to say since—duh—he was standing right outside Cam’s apartment and they’d been best friends for years. He sure as hell wasn’t there to see her.
“Actually, I was on my way to see you.”
And there it was—the last prime number, all the digits of pi, the nirvana to end all nirvanas.
This was the man she’d had fantasies about since her first day of high school. The guy who’d been at the center of so much female attention during school. She smiled to herself, remembering how the girls had flocked around him, the hero of the town.
They’d all been jealous of her, being the sister to Evan’s best friend. At first, she’d never had the guts to talk to him when she saw him at the house. Then they’d started talking, about math or politics or whatever. Stupid stuff. Nothing personal, nothing intimate.
But in her imagination…
Oh, my.
She’d imagined his face during long, slow soaks in the tub. She’d replayed their conversations, twisting their arguments around and analyzing his point of view. She rarely shifted off her own opinion, but she liked the way he thought.
And then she’d let the imaginary conversation drift away in favor of the magical illusion of his hands on her as she lay naked between cool, crisp sheets.
He’d filled her mind for years, even though he’d never once filled her bed.
Wow.
The guy. This was that guy—and he was right there, smiling at her.
Forget the curse—April Fools’ Day should be gold-plated and set up on the mantle.
She realized she was gaping, played the conversation back in her head, and said the first—albeit idiotic—thing that came to mind. “You’re here to see me? Um, why?”
He laughed. “Can’t I just want to see you?”
“No.” The word came out fast, and she backtracked. “I mean, why would you even expect me to be here? I don’t live in New York, remember?”
His smile was soft and his eyes intense. “Yeah. I know.”
“So?”
“So Cam said you were coming over, and I wanted—”
“Yes?” She clenched her fists at her sides, forcing herself not to take a step forward, not to react at all, at least not until he said the words.
“I wanted to talk to you about the curse.”
“Oh.” Can a person deflate? Right then, she was certain she’d be living proof of that particular hypothesis. “What about the curse?”
“I’m, uh, doing an article—a feature piece on superstitions, that kind of stuff. And I had the idea of doing an article on your family’s curse.”
Suddenly, the allure of Evan was fading. She crossed her arms over her chest. “You realize I don’t believe in that stuff?”
“That’s why I was hoping to spend the day with you. I know Cam’s story, and I know how frustrated he is with your stand—”
“Do you believe?”
He held his hands out to his sides. “I’m a reporter. That makes me part lawyer. I follow the evidence.”