Page 19 of The Wingman

I let out an exaggerated sigh. “This is going to be more work than I thought.”

“I promise to behave and not act like a possessed doll from a horror movie until at least the third date.” She sips her drink and licks the salt off the rim, and I have to pull my gaze away. “Okay, eye contact with a guy for a couple seconds, small smile. Then what?”

“Then, if he’s smart, he’ll show up like a dog looking for a treat.”

“What if he doesn’t, though? What if he’s shy or something?”

“If a guy’s interested, he’ll let you know.” The words come out with more force than I mean. “Don’t settle for anything less than a guy who worships the ground you walk on.”

Like me, the voice in my head says, but I ignore it.

She makes a thoughtful humming noise, nodding to herself, digesting this.

“Wasn’t that on your player list? Be confident and chill? You’re a catch, so act like it.”

She smiles, and every shade of green in her eyes sparkles. “You’re a catch, too.”

Our gazes rest on each other, and it’s one of those perfect moments where it’s just the two of us and I think,maybe. Maybe if things were different. If I’d gotten my shit together that first week and asked her out before Kit swooped in.

Even if we did get together, it would only be a matter of time until Darcy sees what everyone else does, and then it’d all fall apart.

“Alright.” She takes a deep breath. “Let’s do this.”

The bad feeling I’ve been carrying all day gets bigger and louder, but we’re doing this so she can feel confident, so she can be in control while dating, and so she can make up for lost time. We’re friends, and she needs my help.

“First, find someone you like.”

Darcy’s gaze moves around the bar. Her eyes linger on a person behind me before she jerks her gaze back to mine.

“See someone?” My voice is tight and I grip my glass harder.

A tiny nod. “He looked at me.”

“Good.”

Not good. I hate this. Every protective, possessive instinct in my body pounds like a drum. It’s taking all of my control to not turn around to look at the guy.

“Next time he looks, do the smile. Not the creepy one.”

She snorts, shifts and crosses her legs, glances behind me, and a moment later, her mouth curves up into the cutest shy smile I’ve ever seen.

It’s a knife to my gut.

“Like that?” she whispers, looking back at me.

I swallow. “Exactly like that.”

“Now we wait?” She sips her drink again, searching my eyes.

“If you were with one of your female friends, I’d say yes, but because you’re with me,” I gesture at myself, “he’s not going to approach. On account of me being so big and strong.” I flex a bicep and she laughs into her drink. A smile stretches across my face, and some of the tightness in my chest eases.

“You can be very intimidating. What do you suggest?” Her smile falls, and her features flood with worry. “Please don’t leave.”

Damn if my heart doesn’t do whirly loops through my chest at that. “I’m not going anywhere.”

An idea occurs to me, and I glance over my shoulder at the group of guys. It’ll probably work—one of them is wearing a Storm hat.

“Which one?” I murmur to Darcy.

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