Page 3 of The Wingman

Relieved, I laugh into my drink. “I’ll have to remember that one.”

“Like you’d ever need it, with the parade of supermodels you date.”

I make a face. “Three. Not a parade.”

She makes an unhappy noise. Her eyes linger on the floor, mouth turned down at the corners.

“What’s wrong?”

She shakes her head, blinking. “Nothing.”

“Darce,” I drawl.

Her eyes meet mine, and she pulls that plush bottom lip between her teeth. “I thought going on a date would be fun, but it was horrible. He wanted all the things I don’t want.”

My fucking heart. I can’t stand seeing her like this. “What’s the rush, you know? It’s only been a month.”

“The rush is that I wasted—” She cuts herself off, eyes turning wary.

“Wasted what?” Time? Wasted time? They were together for eight years.

“Nothing.” She shakes her head. “I’m making a fresh start here in Vancouver. New city, new team at work, new apartment as soon as I find one.”

“New apartment?” I send her awhat gives?expression. “You’re living with me.”

“No, I’mcrashingwith you. I can’t stay there.”

“Sure, you can.”

She gives me a flat look. “Hayden. I can’t afford that place.”

“We didn’t say a word about rent.” And I’m not accepting a dime from her. She has a good job, but with how much I have and how fun it is finally living together, I feel like she’s doing me the favor.

She drops her head back in exasperation. “Do not start.”

“I’m just saying; I make millions of dollars per year.” I flash her a cocky grin. “I don’t need your sad little actuary money.”

She shakes her head, but she’s laughing. “God, your ego. Maybe you do need me around to keep it in check.”

“I’d love that.”

“Anyway.” She waves me off. “On top of all that, new relationship status. Single.” She falters on the last word, rubbing a hand over her stomach like she’s nervous.

Her and Kit’s breakup is none of my business, but when she called to tell me the news, she was still so fucking upset, and I just?—

I couldn’t do nothing. It’s Darcy. She’s my friend, too. Cheering her up, distracting her, is my job.

“You don’t have to jump back into dating.” I grip my glass harder. She should just hang out with me instead. “Just have fun.”

“Yes.” Her eyes light up, and she gestures at me. “Fun. Exactly. I’ve sat on the couch moping about the breakup for a month, and”—she swallows—“I was ready to break up with him a long time ago.”

I force myself not to react. “I didn’t know that.”

I don’t even know the full extent of why they broke up. She hasn’t wanted to talk about it, so I haven’t pushed it. When she’s ready, she’ll tell me.

I’m curious as hell, though. Did he do something? They always seemed so happy together.

“The guy tonight was ready to introduce me to his extended family,” she continues. “He wanted swans at the wedding, Hayden.” She stares at me, and I shake with laughter. “Swansandhorses. He had everything planned out. He just wanted to slot someone in there.” She makes a grossed-out expression. “I just want a fun distraction. Where are those guys?”

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