Page 24 of The Wingman

“Yeah.” His voice is rough. “That’s perfect.”

Reluctantly, I pull my hand away. Tension hangs in the air as Hayden watches me, waiting for my next move, and that impulsive urge strikes again.

“Or…” My hand comes to his thigh. He’s so warm through the fabric of his black jeans, and under my hand, his muscles tighten.

Hayden has the thighs of a professional athlete—strong, thick, muscular. From beach vacations and pool parties over the years, I know that, under his jeans, they’re dusted with golden-blond hair.

Having my hand on his thigh isn’t quite the same as noticing the way his swim shorts stretch over his body from behind my sunglasses, though. A pulse of heat moves through me, and my skin prickles.

“Like this?” I look up into his eyes.

“Yeah.” He nods, nostrils flaring and breathing uneven. “Exactly like that. You’re doing great.”

Some weird impulse has me stroking my thumb across his thigh, lightly pressing into the thick, tight muscle.

Hayden has a nice mouth, I realize, staring at it. For such a strong face, his lips are a surprisingly delicate shape, and my fingers itch to trace them.

“That’s good.” He snatches my wrist up and drops it in my lap like it’s on fire, turning away from me. “You’ve got the hang of it. You’re a natural.”

Embarrassment rockets through me. I probably had my jaw unhinged while furiously rubbing his thigh.

A player watches for signs that his advances are unwanted, the list said.Don’t be a creep.

“Great.” I tuck my hair behind my ear, pretending I didn’t make it weird. “That was easy.”

“I’m going to go to bed.” He jerks to his feet, not looking at me, and moves to the hallway, shoulders and back tense. “I need to take a shower. Good night.”

“Oh. Okay.” My pride stings at the way he’s scrambling to get away from me. “Good night. Thanks for your help,” I call after him.

His bedroom door slams, and a moment later, I hear his shower running. I sit there, cringing. He couldn’t get away fast enough.

Let that be a reminder to me. He’s my wingman and nothing more.

CHAPTER 11

DARCY

“Hey,”Hayden says behind me as I wait inside the arena entrance a few days later. He approaches with a puzzled expression on his face, looking around. “I heard there was a cute girl waiting down here…” His gaze finds me and his face falls in an exaggerated, comical way. “Oh.”

I shake with laughter. “Very funny. Hi.”

“Hi. Are you waiting for Georgia?”

I smile and nod. We’re going shopping. “She should be down any minute.”

Our gazes hold for a long moment, and I think back to a few nights ago, when I had my hand on his thigh. All night, I tossed and turned, worrying I’d made a fatal friendship error and ruined everything, but the next morning, Hayden acted like it never happened at all.

I keep thinking about it, though.

“Excuse us,” someone says, working with another person to carry a giant teddy bear through the lobby.

“Hey, guys.” Hayden gives them a friendly smile, and my gaze lingers on the giant heart on the teddy’s chest.

Be my Valentine?is stitched on the heart. I can feel my mouth turning down.

“We’re going to the children’s hospital tomorrow,” Hayden explains.

A noise of acknowledgment comes out of my throat. Since the decorations started going up in stores a few weeks ago, I’ve been dreading Valentine’s Day. Kit and I never celebrated it. He was always traveling for work, or we’d make some excuse about how busy restaurants were, which I was fine with. It was never a big deal to me.

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