Page 149 of The Wingman

I wanted to feel free and empowered. Hayden always seemed in control, and I wanted a shred of that for myself. It’s because of him that I found it.

For my birthday, I wished things with Hayden would never have to end. Why can’t I make my own wish come true? I’ve made my life into something I’m proud of. Something I’vedreamedabout.

How clueless would I be, to let a guy like Hayden slip away? I’d tell myself it was the right thing to do, that I was protecting him or myself, but one day, I’d wake up regretting that I wasn’t more brave.

And my fear about losing myself in him like I did with Kit? I think back to the party thrown for me, where everyone was dressed up in dumb, hilarious costumes. That was for me, and it made me so happy.

Hayden would never let me be anyone but myself.

He passes to one of the kids, grinning and calling out encouragement, and my heart twists.

The idea of kids seems so far away, but I picture him having a kid with another woman, holdingtheirbaby with a besotted smile, and I want to both cry and rip this park bench out of the ground.

Maybe it doesn’t need to end. After what he told me about Jess, about being shoved into a stereotype and reputation he never wanted, maybe things with us could work.

“We’re going to score one for Darcy, okay?” Hayden tells the kids.

He sets up the play, and when the kid scores, he raises both palms for high fives, handing them out to each kid, shining his enthusiastic, fun light all over them and making them all feel special.

Take a risk, Ward said when I debated about taking the analyst job, and look how well that’s turning out.

The stakes with Hayden are so much higher, though.

This is my pattern—I get scared, so I stand still. Hayden deserves so much more than my uncertainty and hand-wringing, though.

When the pickup game ends, Hayden signs autographs and takes photos with the kids and parents. Then he jogs back to the bench and drops down beside me.

“That was fun.” He smiles down at me, cheekbones flushed and eyes bright. A few petals have fallen into his hair.

“You scored a goal for me.”

He rests his arm over my shoulders, holding me against his warm, solid chest, and when he smiles down at me again, his expression softens.

“They’re all for you, Darcy.”

My heart twists. Maybe he won’t break my heart.

His eyes drop to my hair and his mouth quirks in amusement.

“What?”

His grin widens. “You have cherry blossoms in your hair.”

I laugh. “So do you.”

It feels like magic, sitting here with him under the cherry blossoms and gentle sunlight. Like everything’s falling into place and the timing all aligns.

I don’t want to be scared anymore. I want all the good things that come with making the hard choices.

In the distance, an ice cream truck jingle plays, and I smile. Spring is finally here, and I hardly recognize myself compared to the person I was when I showed up in Vancouver this winter.

“Hayden?” Nerves rattle through me, but I swallow them.

His eyebrows snap together in concern. “What’s wrong?”

My mouth goes dry, but I focus on the breathtaking myriad of blues in his eyes. “I don’t want to stop doing this, either.”

His eyebrows lift.

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