Page 71 of Hang the Moon
“What?” Darcy crossed her arms.
“As if you don’t know perfectly well,” Annie said, shaking her head. “You once flipped the board when you lost.”
“I was twelve.” Darcy sniffed. “It’s my favorite game. I get a little competitive. Sue me.”
“A little?” Annie laughed. “Understatement of the year award goes to...”
Brendon gave a drumroll. “Darcy.Come on, admit it. You trounce everyone.”
“You play without mercy, buying all the utilities and putting up hotels as soon as you can,” Annie said.
Darcy turned to Elle, brows raised, clearly looking for help.
“Landlords suck,” Elle muttered, avoiding Darcy’s eyes.
“Wow.” Darcy tutted. “That is thepointof the game.”
“All in favor of switching over to Monopoly?” Margot asked.
Predictably, one hand rose. Darcy’s.
“All opposed?”
Everyone else raised a hand. Elle lifted both and blew Darcy a kiss.
“The nays have it,” Margot said. “Someone pick another slip.”
“Could we get new ones?” Brendon muttered. “I feel like this game is rigged.”
It was true. She and Brendon were the only ones getting extremely innuendo-laden phrases.
“It’s not our fault you didn’t come to win,” Darcy said, smirking.
Annie had a feeling there was something else afoot. She was getting some distinct matchmaking vibes, the none-too-subtle smirks exchanged by Darcy, Elle, and Margot impossible to ignore.
She reached for her phone and opened her texts, about to tell Darcy to cool it. She didn’t need Darcy to play matchmaker for her and shedefinitelydidn’t need any help realizing she was crazy stupid attracted to Brendon. It was the rest she was fuzzy on, and no amount of miming lewd sex acts was going to bring her any clarity.
Her thumb hovered over thesendbutton when someone pounded heavily against the front door.
“Food must be here,” Brendon said, leaving the room, giving her an ample view of how snugly his jeans fit in all the right places.
Annie shut her eyes.
Maybe switching to Monopoly wasn’t such a bad idea.
***
Annie’s stomach hurt from laughing.
Elle and Darcy had ducked out for more wine, a bottle Darcy swore would go better with Greek food than Elle’s boxed rosé. Margot had retreated to her bedroom to make a phone call, leaving Annie and Brendon alone.
“What did—” She clamped her lips together, about to lose her composure all over again. “What did you call it?”
Brendon wiped the tzatziki sauce off his chin. “Zatzeekeesauce.” When she sputtered through tightly pressed lips, his cheeks began to color. “What? That’s what it’s called!”
She gasped through her laughter and held her stomach, praying she wouldn’t slide off the counter and onto the floor. Oh God, her abs were starting to burn. “That’s—that’s not even remotely close to how you say it.”
“It is!” His nose scrunched. “Isn’t it?”
