Page 34 of Double Puck

"Darce!" Beck greets, like we're on a FaceTime call to plan a weekend brunch instead of him catching me mid-commute. "Guess where I'm going?"

"Let me guess," I say, aiming for my usual crisp professionalism and landing somewhere closer to breathless. "Somewhere that requires you to be fully dressed for once?"

I can practically hear the smirk in his voice as I steer around the bend.

"Aw, disappointed? I could take the rest off if it's distracting you."

Heat floods my cheeks. "It's not—I'm driving, Beck. Some of us have places to be that don't involve... whatever this is."

"This," he says, gesturing to his general state of undress with zero shame, "is me getting ready for the Madden Foundation Gala. You know, the one where I'll be representing the Bears in a proper tuxedo like a respectable member of society."

“You mean the table Colin bought without warning me about it?”

“Ah.” His grin turns downright wicked. “So you know.”

“I know my boss has apparently formed a friendship with my mother.”

“He also told us this is part of my community-presence assessment.” Beck adjusts his bow tie. “Which is great news for you, Spreadsheet. Tonight I’m going to be charming, generous, and almost certainly photographed doing both. Besides, you told your mother you had a date. I’d hate to make you a liar.”

Behind him, the back seat of Declan’s blacked-out Range Rover reveals it’s packed like a clown car. Mason sits by the window, already fully dressed and composed, sunglasses perched on his face like he’s an actor arriving at the Oscars, doing a stellar job of pretending he’s not listening.

"Anyway, I thought I better just give you a heads up," he adds. "Diego caught me trying to sneak out the door."

I blink. "Is that so?"

"Yup. The old hallway trap. He took one look at my tux and said ‘Great idea! This family needs to leave the house before we all become sad men watching television.’ Then he packed Declan a pocket square and kicked us out of the mansion."

“Sad men watching television?” I arch a brow.

"Yeah. Ever since Declan found out about the divorce, he's been watching Liar Liar on repeat. Probably for inspiration, or something."

Beck cackles triumphantly, but I see Declan reach over and try to whack him.

"Beck," Declan's voice cuts in, devastatingly flat. "Swear to God, I'm going to throw you out of this moving vehicle if you don't shut up."

"You won't. You're still too busy sucking up to me for not telling the truth." Beck grins at the camera like he's hosting his own talk show. "Plus, Mason would have to sit in the front, and we all know he gets carsick when he can't see the road."

"I do not get carsick," Mason's voice drifts from somewhere off-screen, sounding mildly offended.

"Can we focus?" I can practically hear Declan's eye roll through the phone. "We're going to be late, and I refuse to walk into another fancy party looking like we got dressed in the dark."

"Speak for yourself," Beck says, adjusting his loose bowtie with one hand. "I look incredible. Darce, back me up here. Don't I look like I should be on a magazine cover?"

The honest answer is yes, he absolutely does.

And that's exactly the problem.

But as I'm about to open my mouth, Josie's face suddenly appears over Beck’s shoulder, already gorgeous, her brows pinched in mild apology.

"Darcy, I hope this is okay?" She swallows hard, wincing slightly when she catches my eyes. And suddenly, I can't concentrate on the road either. "I figured—I mean, moral support for him was a good idea, and—"

I blink at the screen, momentarily thrown.

Is Josie actually... talking to me?! Like, nicely?

Her tone is soft, almost careful, and there's something in her green eyes that looks suspiciously like an olive branch to repair our friendship.

When did this happen?