Something Borrowed - Emily Giffin [34]
"I don't know. Maybe long-term potential."
"Well, you looked like a total couple last night," she says. "Out there dancing."
"We did?" I ask, thinking that if we looked like a couple, Dex must know that I'm not dwelling on him.
She nods, finds her "Corporate Challenge" T-shirt, and sniffs the armpits before tossing it over to me. "Is this clean? Smell it."
"I'm not gonna smell your shirt," I say, throwing it back. "You're gross."
She laughs and puts on her obviously clean enough shirt. "Yeah… You two were out there whispering and laughing. I thought for sure you were going to hook up last night, and that I would get the room to myself."
I laugh. "Sorry to disappoint."
"You disappointed him more."
"Nah. He just said good night when we got home. Not even a kiss."
Hillary knows about the first kiss. "Why not?"
"I don't know. I think we're both proceeding with caution. We'll have a lot of contact between now and September… You know, he's in the wedding party too. If things blow up, it could be bad."
She looks as if she is considering my point. For one second I am tempted to tell Hillary everything about Dex. I trust her. But I don't share, reasoning that I can always tell her, but I can't untell her and erase the knowledge from her mind. When we are all together, I would feel even more awkward, constantly thinking that she's thinking about it. And anyway… it is over. There is really nothing to talk about.
We go downstairs. Our housemates have already assembled around the kitchen table.
"It's kick-ass outside," Darcy says, standing, stretching, and showing off her flat stomach under a cropped T-shirt. She sits back down at the table, returning to her game of solitaire.
Claire looks up from her Palm Pilot. "Perfect beach weather."
"Perfect golf weather," Hillary says, looking at Dex and Marcus. "Any interest?"
"Urn, maybe," Dex says, glancing up from the sports page. "Want me to call and see if we can get a tee time?"
Darcy slams her cards onto the table and looks around defiantly.
Hillary doesn't seem to notice Darcy's objection to a round of golf because she says, "Or we could just pop over to the driving range."
"No! No! No! No golf!" Darcy pounds the table again, this time with her fist. "Not on our first day! We have to stay together! All of us. Right, Rachel?"
"Guess that means no golf today," Dex says, before I am forced to become involved in the great golf debate. "Darcy's orders."
Hillary gets up from the table with a disgusted look on her face.
"I just want us all to be together at the beach," Darcy says, putting a benevolent spin on her selfishness.
"And you make the prospect seem so pleasant." Dex stands, walks over to the sink, and starts making coffee.
"What's your problem, grouchy bottom?" Darcy says to his back as if he is the one who just told her how to spend the day. "You are being such an old stinkweed. Sheesh."
"What's a stinkweed?" Marcus asks, scratching his ear. It is his first contribution to the morning conversation. He still looks half asleep. "I'm not familiar."
"Just have a look at one right now," Darcy says, pointing at Dex. "He's been in a bad mood since we got here."
"No, I haven't," Dex says. I want him to turn around so I can read his expression.
"Have too. Hasn't he?" Darcy demands an answer from the rest of us, looking at me specifically. Being friends with Darcy has taught me the art of smoothing over. But sleeping with her fiancé has dulled my instinct. I am not in the mood to chime in. And nobody else wants to become embroiled in what should be their private argument. We all shrug or look away.
In truth, though, Dex has been somewhat subdued. I wonder if I have anything to do with his mood. Maybe it bothered him, watching me with Marcus. Not full-blown jealousy, just the territorial pangs that I experienced. Or perhaps he's only thinking about Darcy, seeing her for the controlling person she is. I've always been aware of Darcy's demands—you can't miss them—but lately, I have been less tolerant of her. I am tired of her always getting her