Darcy/Clint 15
“Okay.” Darcy lifted her glass off the table and drained it, making yuck face as she lowered it back to the wooden surface. There’d been a little more at the bottom than she thought there would be. Oops. “I’m gonna do it.”
Nat, awesome wingman and drinking buddy, was smiling. Smirking? Something. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Like maybe she didn’t think it was a such a good idea.
“Uh, yeah. I don’t know what the view’s like from your side of the table, but he’s been bending over to take his shots all night long and, um, it’s nice.” Darcy nodded emphatically, her eyes fixed on her intended target. “It’s real nice.”
“Give me your phone.” Darcy looked back over at the redhead across the table, eyes wide in question. Nat merely arched an eyebrow. “I mean it. Give me your phone. Because last time you did something like this you asked me to make sure that you didn’t post any incriminating selfies.”
She had, hadn’t she? Darcy pulled her phone out of her pocket and slid it across the table. In a second it was gone, like Nat had done some sort of magic trick or something.
She adjusted her shirt, pulling the neckline down just a little. “Okay. How do my boobs look?”
Nat’s blue-green eyes obligingly dropped to her cleavage. “Like he could smother in them.”
“Excellent.” Darcy slid out of the booth and got to her feet, stumbling just a little before making more-or-less a straight path over to where Clint was standing by the pool table with his own beer. She stumbled again, catching herself on his arm. Which was… Really nice, actually. Like, really nice. She always forgot how nice Clint’s arms really were. “Hey.”
“Hi there.” He looked down at her for a second. “You okay?”
“Sure. Just… Shoes.” Still holding his arm for balance she picked up her feet one at a time and pulled her heels off, stepping down onto the cool floor on her bare feet. Only she wasn’t expecting there to be quite so much distance between her heel and the floor, and she stumbled again. Backwards, this time.
Clint reached out and snagged her arm, grabbing her and pulling her up against him. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Yup. Absolutely.” She nodded, snuggling in against him. Because he had a nice chest, too. “But you should take me home.”
He chuckled, his eyebrow raising as he looked down at her. “You don’t mean your home, do you?”
“Nope.” She shook her head before resting her cheek against his chest. “You smell nice.”
“You know, you don’t have to be drunk to come over and cuddle with my dog.”
“I know. But I’m better at Tony Hawk when I’m drunk, and this time I’m gonna kick your ass.” She looked up and beamed a bright smile at him.