Page 33 of The Wingman

His smile is sheepish, and a wash of pink spreads across his cheekbones as he swallows. “I’m, uh, a little nervous.”

I shake my head, smiling. “It’s just me.”

“Yeah.” His big chest rises and falls with a deep breath, and he nods, although he doesn’t look convinced.

“Ishould be nervous. This is probably where you bring all the supermodels you date.” I grin at him, teasing. “I have a lot to live up to.”

His fingers tense on the wine list, but he gives me a tight smile. Something inside me sinks. The idea of Hayden with other girls never used to bother me, so why now?

“You haven’t been dating lately.”

He hasn’t gone out on one date or had one friend over to the apartment since I moved in.

He shrugs. “It’s been busy.”

Not more than a normal season. “You’ve found lots of time to hang out with me.”

“Sick of me already?” His mouth tilts up.

I grin. “No. I love living with you.”

That sounded weird. I should have saidI like living with you. Not love.Jesus, Darcy.

His throat works, and his smile softens. “I love living with you, too, Darce.”

Something thunks in my heart, heavy and pleasant, and I have to pull my gaze away from his deep blue eyes. “I don’t want you to tiptoe around me.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re welcome to have women over.” A bad tastefills my mouth, and the thought makes me nauseous, which is totally unfair. Hayden can do what he wants. “I can find someplace to be or wear noise-canceling headphones or go hang out at Hazel and Rory’s?—”

“Darcy.” His gaze flares with intensity. “It’s fine.”

“We’re roommates, so just treat me like any other roommate. I mean, you had women over when you lived with Josh, right?”

I don’t know why I’m pushing this so hard.

His jaw works. “I really don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

My stomach twists with unease. Okay, so maybe we’re not as good of friends as I thought. “Okay. Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine.” He rubs the bridge of his nose. “I’m trying to focus on the season.” He looks away for a moment, then meets my eyes again. “And I like hanging out with you.”

My heart does a dumb pitter-patter. “I like hanging out with you, too.”

He pauses, hesitating, watching my face. “Sometimes, I wonder what it would be like. A relationship,” he explains, glancing away. “I see Streicher and Miller making heart eyes at their fiancées and”—he shrugs, and there’s that endearing wash of pink across his cheekbones again—“it doesn’t look so bad.”

I laugh and wrinkle my nose. “I can’t even picture you with a girlfriend.” For as long as I’ve known him, he’s kept things casual. “Hayden, you’d hate it.” Especially after years of freedom. “Rory and Hazel, and Pippa and Jamie, they’re all in the honeymoon phase. Kit and I were there once, too.”

Things were so good, until they weren’t. Until the shiny newness wore off. Until I started realizing how wrong we were for each other.

“I’m not saying what happened to Kit and me will happen to them,” I continue. “I actually think they’re all perfecttogether, but there are a lot of aspects to a relationship that you just don’t have to deal with when you keep things casual.” I blow a breath out, thinking. “You don’t have to go to family dinners with the other person, no birthday or Christmas gifts, and you don’t have to listen to them rant about work at the end of the day.”

His eyes move over my face, and the corner of his mouth tugs up into a reluctant smile. “Those don’t sound so bad.”

He only wants it because he’s never had it. The novelty appeals to him, not necessarily the commitment part.

“Valentine’s Day, for example.” I gesture between us. “This year is fun because it’s our first time.”

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