Page 97 of The Wingman

She arches an eyebrow at her reflection. “Bad different?”

“No,” I rush out. “You look beautiful. You always do.”

She smiles, and something sweet aches in my chest. There’s a spark to Darcy these days, something bright blooming inside her.

Our eyes meet, and there’s so much I want to say.Don’t dress up for him; dress up for me, to start.Let’s stay in so I can have you all to myself, maybe. Or evenIt’s torture, teaching you how to date other guys.

Her phone buzzes, and I look away, the unhappy feeling simmering in my gut. Volkov insisted on picking Darcy up here instead of meeting us at the restaurant.

“Hello?” she answers, shooting me a smile. “Hi. Do you want us to come down?” She listens a beat. “Okay. See you in a minute.”

She buzzes him in and slips her phone into her back pocket before rifling through her makeup bag.

“Do you…” I rake a hand through my hair. “…have any questions about tonight? Want any pointers?”

She shakes her head, applying a lipstick that matches her top. I zero in on the motion, fascinated as she drags the wand over her plump lips.

“No. I feel pretty comfortable around Alexei. I’m not worried.”

That tense, possessive energy weaves through me and I fold my arms over my chest to hide my clenched fists. “Comfortable. Great.”

“All your lessons are really paying off.” She slides a hesitant look at me. “Are you okay? You’ve been weird all week.”

I swallow past the knots in my throat. All week, I’ve been restless thinking about tonight. Dreading it. Flipping between making an excuse to bail—so I don’t have to watch her shine her sparkling light all over Volkov—and telling myself it’ll be so much worse if I’m sitting at home, waiting and wondering.

When I wasn’t thinking about the date, I was thinking about how she sounds when she comes. How she looked at me the split second before her orgasm, lips parted and eyes widening in surprise like she couldn’t believe it. How she squeezed my hand with hers and it was the most intimate experience of my life.

“I’m fine.” I force a reassuring smile. “Haven’t been sleeping well this week.”

Our eyes meet, and from the way her expression goes hazy, I wonder if she’s thinking about the times we woke up together. I’m a light sleeper, but I slept like the dead with her head on my chest, my arms around her, and her scent in my nose.

There’s a knock on the front door.

“That’ll be one of them.” She breezes past me, and I catch her perfume, warm and sweet, before I follow her.

Even before we reach the foyer, we hear them arguing.

“I’m shocked you’re able to stay up this late,” I hear Georgia mutter through the door.

“I’m shocked you didn’t demand Owens send a Bentley to pick you up,” Volkov counters, cool and disinterested. “Or have your chauffeur drop you off at the restaurant.”

Darcy opens the door to them glaring at each other, Georgia somehow managing to stare down her nose at Volkov even though he’s a foot taller than her.

They snap out of it, turning to us in unison. Georgia puts on an ear-to-ear smile, and Volkov’s mouth curves in a polite greeting as he nods at Darcy, but they both radiate tension.

Volkov’s also holding a massive bouquet of flowers.

“Hi,” Darcy chirps, looking between them. “Everything okay?”

“Everything’s great.” Georgia walks in, sending me a friendly wink before her gaze sweeps around the apartment and she whistles. “Nice place.”

Volkov hands the flowers to Darcy. “These are for you.”

My stomach drops at her expression, so shocked and pleased. “For me?”

His eyes flick to me, and there’s that stupid, smug look on his stupid fucking face again. “For you, Darcy.”

She stares at the bouquet. “They’re lovely. Thank you.”

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