Page 129 of The Wingman

“Maybe I can look into it.”

He stops and turns, frowning.

“I use data to find solutions.” My mind whirs and spins with all the ways I could adjust the plays.

For a moment, he looks like he’s about to turn me down, but his features relax. “That would be great. Thanks.” He gives me a nod and lifts his arm like he’s about to clap me on the shoulder. When our eyes meet, he frowns and jerks his hand back.

I hold back the laugh. “We’re friends.” I shrug and give him a smile. “That’s what friends do.”

He dips his chin. “Friends.” He turns before he stops himself. “About the double date.”

“I know you just asked me out to make Hayden jealous.”

He gives me a guilty sidelong look. “He needed a push.”

Even though I’m perfectly pleased with what happened asa result of the double date, I roll my eyes. “The guys are right about you, you know. That you think you know best.”

He makes a low noise that might be a laugh. “I do know best.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I grin. “Whatever.”

Hayden appears at the other end of the hall, heading toward us.

“See you at the bar?” Alexei asks.

I nod. “See you there.”

As he passes Hayden, Alexei claps him on the shoulder, and Hayden’s expression flickers with tension.

“Hey.” I lean up to give him a quick kiss. “Rough game.”

He sighs. My heart aches for him because I know how hard he’s trying not to let the loss get to him.

“Rough game, but we’re going to the Filthy Flamingo to celebrate Walker’s first night with the team. We’re going to shake it off.”

“Sounds good to me.”

We start walking down the long concourse to the exit. I lean against his shoulder but catch the muted wince as he sucks in a sharp breath. I frown up at him. “What’s wrong?”

A tight shake of his head. “Nothing.”

My eyes move over him, studying the tension in his shoulders. “You’re hurt.” I stop walking. “That hit from the third period.”

He waves me off, pulling my hand to keep walking. “I’m fine. Let’s have fun.”

I poke his shoulder and he stifles a groan of pain. “See?Hayden. You need to go home and rest.”

“I’ll rest later.” He winks, but it feels forced. “It’s Walker’s first game. We need to celebrate. I can’t bail. The team needs me there.”

“The team needs you to take care of yourself.”

He presses his mouth into a tight line, glancing down the hall where we came from as more players leave the dressing room, talking and laughing.

He’s always the life of the party, ensuring other people have fun. I think about how we’ve fooled around up until now—always Hayden pleasing me, him putting his needs second.

“We’re going home and I’m putting you to bed,” I tell him, surprising myself with how firm I sound. “And I’m going to take care of you.”

The strong line of his throat moves as he swallows and meets my eye, letting out a heavy breath.

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