by Amy Andrews
His gaze was drawn to her now. Their group was over in the far left corner and from his vantage point he could see her back, the swish and bob of her ponytail distracting as hell. As distracting as her jeans and T-shirt that said This Girl Loves Christmas.
And she did. Always had. They’d had a tree up for the last two weeks, this morning she’d soaked a kilo of fruit in what seemed like a vat of sherry for the Christmas pudding and she was wearing some kind of headband with small bells on top that jingled whenever she moved her head.
Despite his mood, Levi found himself smiling. Then he found himself thinking about her wearing it and nothing else into his bed tonight and he stopped smiling.
‘This is where you disappeared to.’ A clap to his back made Levi start. ‘Drinking alone’s a bad sign, you know?’
Tony. Another downer and the other reason why he was talking his time in getting back to the group. Of course it was natural that the coach would be invited to the team Christmas drinks, but it got on Levi’s last nerve how bloody smooth Tony was.
How had he ever even liked the guy?
Surely he hadn’t always been such a slick douche? He’d definitely had a way with women, which Levi and the rest of their friendship group had envied. But they weren’t twenty anymore. With the benefits of maturity, what had seemed smooth now seemed sleazy.
‘Just grabbing another beer,’ Levi dismissed as Tony stood beside him. It was actually his first beer, which he’d barely touched and brought to the bar with him, but he doubted Tony was paying attention.
‘Good idea.’ He signalled the bartender for another. ‘I’ll have one with you.’
Excellent. Joy to the fucking world. Levi plastered on a polite smile. ‘Team’s shaping up well.’ He could have polite conversation with the dude while they waited for Tony’s beer and footy was the one thing they still had in common.
And Darcy.
‘So well. They’re going to be fucking formidable, man.’
Tony was served his beer and they talked footy and tactics, strengths and weaknesses and strategy like... well, like old friends, as they sipped at their drinks.
‘Darcy is so strong.’ Levi stiffened at her name and glanced at Tony who was staring at the swish of Darcy’s ponytail. ‘When did she get so tough?’
Levi almost snorted as he stared into his beer. About the time you dumped her arse and broke her heart. Was he for real?
‘She was always tough.’
Tony’s head swivelled quickly towards Levi, who ignored the weight of his gaze. He raised a lazy eyebrow. ‘You tapping that?’
Despite the sudden kick in his heart and the streak of murderous violence fighting for an outlet, Levi made his face go blank as he turned disinterested eyes on Tony who was wiping froth off his upper lip with his tongue. For a Christmas fantasy moment, Levi pictured it as blood.
Right after he punched the fool in the kisser.
Tony was trying to provoke a response and he was damned if he was going to give him the satisfaction. Plus he doubted Darcy would approve of him hitting her coach in the face. He may be a douche but she’d worked too long and too hard to have Levi do something stupid that would embarrass her or cause any team tension. ‘What do you want?’
The other guy nodded sagely, as if confirming to himself. ‘So you have tapped it.’
Levi held onto his temper. Just. ‘Would you mind not referring to my friend and your ex as some piece of arse?’
‘I find your lack of denial interesting,’ Tony said conversationally, like they weren’t in a busy bar in the middle of what felt like a dozen work Christmas parties. ‘Didn’t take you long to fuck her, I see. You always did have a hard-on for her.’
The fine muscle fibres in Levi’s abdomen tightened like they were preparing for a bare-knuckled brawl. Levi didn’t like Tony’s tone. He didn’t like his face or clothes or his smug smile. He especially didn’t like that Tony might have always known he’d had a thing for Darcy.
That was deeply personal. Especially as he’d been in such denial himself.
With the accurate guess and the casual way it was delivered—like what Levi felt for Darcy was some kind of joke—it was fair to say that Levi was about as mad as anyone could possibly be. His hand gripped tight around his beer glass.
Tony laughed at whatever it was he saw in Levi’s face and that just pissed Levi off even more. ‘You think I didn’t see the way you looked at her sometimes when you thought I wasn’t looking? When she wasn’t looking.’
Levi hoped like hell this was all a part of some bluff, something Tony was stringing out, guessing at, just to amuse himself. Because he’d spent five years being scrupulously friendly and he couldn’t believe Tony was astute or aware enough to have read anything else into it.
The guy had always been an egocentric bastard.
But maybe it was just that sense that men got about other men who had things for their girlfriends. Like he’d already gotten about Tony.
‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’ Levi had absolutely no intention of confirming something he’d only come to realise as true in retrospect. Not to Tony. It was dangerous information to put in the hands of a guy who wasn’t above using it to his own advantage.
‘So you two haven’t screwed?’
Levi gripped his glass even tighter, absently watching his knuckles turn white as his brain flicked through several response options. One was polite. Tell Tony to mind his own business. The other not so polite, running along the lines of, go fuck yourself, douche. The third was to deck him. Right here in the bar.
So he tried to find his Zen. But it didn’t really matter how many times he chanted his neti, neti, Levi still wanted to deck Tony.
The only thing giving him any satisfaction was the fact that there was uncertainty in Tony’s voice now, not smugness. The fact that Tony thought that maybe he and Darcy had been intimate was like a calm, steady light in the swirling mass of red spinning like a vortex in Levi’s head.
Levi hoped like hell it needled at Tony like a splinter under his fingernail.
‘What Darcy and I have and haven’t done is between the two of us.’ He regarded the other man silently for a moment or two, before he plunged another splinter in. ‘Unlike you, I don’t kiss and tell. This isn’t sport, Tony.’ Then Levi picked up his beer and walked back to the group.
He castigated himself all the way over. He should have denied it outright. It was the right thing to do and to imply intimacy that had never happened was juvenile.
But this felt infinitely better.
***
Darcy loved Christmas Day with a passion that bordered on obsessive thanks to bah humbug parents who thought it was a conspiracy between supermarkets and advertising agencies to fleece them of their money.
And this one was no exception. In fact, this one seemed even more special. More... Christmas. More seasonal joy, more happy, more intense. Because this Christmas she was a Banshee and damn if that didn’t make everything light up like a glowstick.
If only they had snow she’d be in Christmas heaven.
Of course, it was hot as Hades outside so that was never going to happen, but inside the air-con was on, the carols were playing, the seafood and champagne were on ice, the table was set with enough Christmas napery to start a store and her guests were on their way.
And to cap it all off, Levi, who usually went home to Cairns for the silly season, was also a Christmas orphan. His parents were having a white Christmas on their first ever European trip, which left Levi free and available and, if Darcy was being honest with herself, that was the best part.
After living with Levi for seven years, they were finally spending their first Christmas together. It felt very fitting that he would be part of this Christmas—her Banshee Christmas—considering he’d been through all her ups and down on the long and winding road to here.
There was a knock at the door. ‘I’ll go,’ Levi called out from the lounge room.
‘No!’ Da
rcy, who’d been taste testing the custard she’d made for the trifle, put down the spoon and ran out of the kitchen. ‘I’ll get it.’
He laughed at her, shaking his head. ‘Now I know who the saying as excited as a kid on Christmas morning was talking about.’
But she just grinned at him as she made her way to the door. ‘Pop some champagne for me.’
And then she was opening the door and Genevieve and her new partner Ally were standing there, along with Wendy and Shayla, who were also Christmas orphans this year. They were laden with food and presents but they hugged anyway and all talked at once and Darcy wasn’t sure if her heart could get any fuller.
She was one lucky woman!
‘Oh my God, what a cute dress,’ Ally exclaimed as they all moved inside.
Darcy smiled her thanks, brushing her hands down the sides of the red fabric. It was a bit fifties housewife with a fuller skirt just brushing her knees, capped sleeves, a fitted bodice and a V-neckline which sprouted a large red bow from the cleavage.
‘The bow’s not too much?’ For a woman who didn’t often wear a dress she felt Christmassy and yes, just a little bit sexy. But Levi’s reaction had put the kybosh on that. He’d stared at it then scowled a little.
It had been momentarily deflating, but nothing could keep her Christmas spirit down for too long!
‘Are you kidding?’ Ally shook her head. ‘You’re like a walking Christmas present! Isn’t she, Levi?’
Darcy started at the sudden appearance of Levi standing next to her with a tray of full champagne glasses bubbling madly, the deep red of a bush hibiscus flower sitting in the bottom giving them a festive Aussie garnish.
Levi looked a little like he’d been caught in the headlights of a car. He glanced at the dress, at the bow, lingering for a moment, causing a funny little giddy-up in her heart before he glanced quickly away again.
‘Very festive,’ he agreed noncommittally, which made her feel about as attractive a tree ornament. He handed Ally a glass, which she took with a wily smile and a wink.
‘Just waiting to be unwrapped,’ she murmured.
Darcy’s brows drew together at the byplay, an odd tightness in her chest now as Levi busied himself handing out glasses.
‘Speaking of,’ Wendy said, brandishing her present, distracting Darcy from Levi. ‘When are we opening these?’
They’d decided on a Secret Santa, which meant each person had to buy for only one other person and they’d set a twenty-dollar limit. Darcy loved Secret Santa. Loved how a restricted budget forced people to be creative. It was fun and she’d even convinced Levi to join them.
‘I thought after lunch? How about you all put your presents under the tree for now?’
‘Wow.’ Shayla blinked at the massive eight-foot tree. She had the kind of look Levi had the night Vlad had been outed. ‘That thing’s a monster.’
Darcy glanced at Levi who had a strange expression on his face, like he was remembering that night too. ‘Darcy likes big.’
He said it innocently enough but she swore he was trying to suppress a smile. She was pleased he was at the stage where he could laugh at it. Because she wasn’t. It had been so mortifying she hadn’t even unwrapped the bloody thing she’d paid a hundred and fifty bucks for!
She wasn’t sure she ever would.
Ally looked him up and down before flicking her gaze to the tree. ‘I can see that.’
She was suppressing a smile too and Darcy frowned at the easy camaraderie between Levi and Genevieve’s partner, who was drop-dead sexy even if she did bat for the other team and couldn’t be possibly interested in Levi. Or any man, for that matter.
‘Sit, sit, everyone.’ She pointed to the table groaning with Christmas cheer to cover her confusion. ‘Let the festivities begin.’
And begin they did. There was food and bubbles and laughter and stories while the sun shone down outside and Bing Crosby sang White Christmas and Frosty the Snowman. And football. Lots of chatter about their first game in February and how soon it would be here and how nervous and excited they all were.
‘I worry I’m going to get injured and be out for the entire season,’ Genevieve said.
Four horrified gazes turned to her. ‘Don’t say that, babe,’ Ally said, squeezing her hand.
‘Not out loud,’ Wendy added.
Because the potential for injury always weighed heavily in the backs of minds, so much so that no one wanted to speak its name, just in case.
‘Not me.’ Darcy shook her head. ‘I worry I’m going to screw up. The ball will bounce off the post. Or I won’t go high enough to take a mark.’
Wendy snorted. ‘You’re kidding, right? I’ve never seen anyone with springier legs than you. You fly through the air like a bloody angel.’
‘That’s all the ballet,’ Levi said.
Shayla’s eyebrows hit her hairline. ‘Ballet?’
Darcy stabbed daggers at him with her eyes as he feigned innocence and said, ‘Oh, sorry, you didn’t know?’
‘Nope.’ Shayla shook her head.
‘Levi.’
He grinned at her, completely ignoring the protest in her voice. ‘Oh yes, Darcy was on track to a Royal Ballet scholarship.’
It wasn’t a big secret but Darcy had found that footy and ballet were hard for a lot of people to wrap their heads around. Ballerinas were considered delicate even though, God knew, they were tough as nails, driving their bodies to beyond endurance.
But in the male-dominated sporting arenas she’d pursued after her ballet career went down the tubes, perceptions of strength mattered. She hadn’t wanted anyone in the upper echelons of the sport to think she was some anorexic prima donna whose ankles might snap on her.
‘You’re shitting me!’ Shayla stared at Darcy as if she’d sprouted wings. ‘You’re not like any ballerina I know.’
‘Know many, do you?’ Wendy asked.
Genevieve, who hadn’t said anything, tapped her lips with her finger. ‘It explains her insane flexibility. Double-jointed my arse.’
Darcy blushed. She’d dismissed her flexibility as genetics and regular yoga but the game was up.
‘So you used to wear your hair all tight in a bun so it looked like you’d had a face lift?’ Genevieve persisted. ‘And you can do all those twirls and tippy-toe around on those pointy crazy-arse shoes?’
Darcy nodded. To all of it. She hadn’t been en pointe for over a decade but it was something as natural to her as breathing. Hell, it had taken a handful of years to force herself not to stand in first position whenever she was at rest.
Ally cocked an eyebrow. ‘What happened? Injury?’
‘Nope.’ Darcy shot Levi a slit-eyed evil look as she resigned herself to tell the story. Levi just laughed. But she forgave him because he’d been like a personal slave to them all today, fetching and carrying, keeping their glasses filled, and he knew this wasn’t a taboo subject.
‘My hormones kicked in. I grew boobs and thighs practically overnight.’
She glanced down at her chest, the red bow giving her cleavage even more acreage. The skirt of her dress fell around the solid muscularity of her thighs. She returned her gaze to Ally. ‘An elite ballerina needs a certain physique and my body... had other ideas. My teachers were adamant it was the end of the line.’
It didn’t hurt anymore. It hadn’t hurt for a long time, but she’d been bitterly, bitterly disappointed. Her mother, her own dreams of making the Royal Ballet long since faded, had been crushed.
‘Bummer,’ Ally murmured.
Yes, it had been. But nothing kept Darcy down for long. And her need to be active had taken her down a different road.
She shrugged. ‘It wasn’t meant to be.’
‘So you switched to footy?’
‘Nope, soccer first.’
‘Soccer?’ Wendy didn’t even bother to hide her scandalised expression and everyone else groaned around the table. Darcy laughed, so did Levi. The intense rivalry between codes of football didn’t look like
it was about to end any time soon.
‘Yes. For a few years. I switched to Aussie Rules when I was twenty. Played both for a while but liked how much more physically challenging AFL was.’
‘Well thank God you came back from the dark side and are going to be prancing around the field for us come February,’ Genevieve said.
‘Those Melbourne teams better watch out for Darcy the Dancer,’ Wendy agreed.
Darcy groaned. ‘That’s going to stick, isn’t it?’ She sighed at four nodding heads and shot Levi a faux irritated look. ‘This is all your fault.’
He looked completely unconcerned by her accusation. ‘Everyone needs a nickname, DC.’ He grinned at her. ‘You’re welcome.’
There was more laughter but Darcy was done with being the cause of it. ‘Alright. Present time.’
Groaning about full bellies, everyone moved away from the table to loll on the couch and the floor. Ally insisted on playing Santa and they spent a hilarious hour exchanging gifts and laughing over everyone’s limited budget choices.
Her gift got the greatest reaction of all. Her Secret Santa—Darcy suspected all her teammates had collaborated on this—had given her an enormous box of Christmas condoms. None of them had let up over their insistence that Darcy needed to get laid before their first game.
She had to, apparently, take one for the team after Wendy had insisted no woman could play her best without a regular relieve valve.
Darcy blushed furiously as Shayla snatched them out of her hand and opened the box, flashing the merrily wrapped packets with Christmassy messages printed across the foil.
All I want for Christmas is Sex. And, Eat Me. That one had a gingerbread man on it. Well Hung was decorated with a tree bauble.
If Levi hadn’t been here she’d have thought it pretty funny, but he was and she couldn’t even look at him, even if he was laughing his arse off. ‘You bought these, didn’t you?’ she said to Wendy.