The Wingman (Vancouver Storm #3)

47. Darcy

CHAPTER 47

DARCY

Outside, Hayden’s still holding my hand as he opens the door of a waiting taxi and gestures for me to get in, wearing a thunderous expression. He rattles off our address to the driver while reaching across me to do my seat belt up.

I stare at him with my mouth hanging open. “Are you going to explain?” I ask, incredulous.

“When we get home.”

I make a noise of frustration. “Hayden?—”

“When. We. Get. Home.”

The drive home is short, thank god, and when we step into the elevator, tense energy radiates off him in waves.

Rule number seven of being a player, I add: Don’t date your wingman’s friends.

A tiny, hopeful, stupid little shard of me wants this to be because he’s wildly jealous, but Hayden doesn’t get jealous. I would have seen it by now.

When we get home, he doesn’t even look at me. I catch the sharp lines of his profile as he throws his coat over one of the kitchen chairs.

“I’m going to bed. Good night,” he says in a low tone, kicking his shoes off and not even putting them away in the closet like he always does. Then he heads down the hallway to our bedrooms without another word.

I stand in the foyer, still wearing my jacket and shoes, listening as his bedroom door closes.

Oh, hell no. I shake my head to myself, frustration growing in the pit of my stomach.

In seconds, I’m outside his door, rapping my knuckles against it. “Hayden.”

No answer.

I knock again. “ Hayden .”

“Not now, Darce.”

“Yes, now.” Without thinking, I open his door. “I’m coming in,” I add, when the door is already open.

Hayden stands in only his tight boxer briefs, glaring at me. Even his dark mood can’t detract from how gorgeous he looks, all powerful, toned muscle and golden-blond hair.

God, he’s so hot.

“Where are your clothes?” I sound outraged, like I’m not the one who threw his door open.

He puts his hands on his trim hips. “I’m going to the gym.”

“Now?” He even has those V-muscles pointing into the waistband of his boxers. I didn’t notice those the other day because I was too busy having the most intense orgasm of my life.

“Yes.”

“I thought you were going to bed.”

He exhales a rough noise, pacing across the room, agitated. “I need to do something.”

“Read a book,” I suggest lightly. I hate fighting with him like this. It feels all wrong. “Watch The Northern Sword .”

He shakes his head. “I can’t sit down right now.”

“Rip into me, then.” I give him a pointed look. “Maybe that’ll help. I’ve clearly pissed you off.”

He folds his arms over his chest. “What are you talking about?”

A humorless laugh of complete fucking disbelief slips out of me. “Hayden. Look. I’m sorry I went out with Alexei. I’ve learned my lesson. But you acted like a complete asshole to both Georgia and Alexei all night. And then when I actually tried to practice these things you’ve been teaching me, you dragged me out of there like a teenager out past her bedtime.”

His throat works, and he gives me a pained expression.

“You agree to wingman me, but then act like a territorial asshole the whole night. This isn’t how friends act.” The thing that’s been bothering me for months rises to the forefront of my mind. “And you don’t touch me anymore,” I add quietly.

His eyes burn me. “What about the other night?”

My stomach dips. The toy, the way his fingers tugged at my nipples, stirring pleasure through me. The way he used the toy on me to make me come harder than ever. And how he laced his strong fingers through mine at the end.

“Not like the other night. Or the other morning.” I swallow. “You don’t hug me. You don’t put your arm around me anymore. You don’t…” It sounds so stupid. “You don’t tickle me. And you move out of the way so I don’t accidentally touch you.”

Silence falls heavy between us for a moment. Then he laughs, but it’s not his typical lighthearted, happy Hayden laugh. It’s bitter, frustrated, like it hurts him.

“I don’t touch you anymore.” He shakes his head to himself. “Yeah, I don’t touch you anymore, Darce. I can’t.”

His eyes sharpen, pinning me, and he takes a step forward. Then another. Until we’re inches apart and I can feel his warmth.

“You want to know why? ”

So I can hear him say the hurtful words out loud? “I know why.”

I turn away, but his fingers come to beneath my chin, tilting my face to his. A tingle of pleasure runs through me at the dominant gesture.

“Go on, then.” He stares down into my eyes, challenging me. “Say it.”

“I broke Kit’s heart. I hurt the person you care about.”

“No.” He exhales heavily, but his fingers stay beneath my chin. “You couldn’t be more wrong, Darcy. I know you weren’t happy with him. And after the things he did, how he proposed when he knew you didn’t want it, I don’t care that you broke his heart.” His throat works as he drinks in the sight of me.

“You don’t want me to get the wrong idea about you and me, then.”

“Wrong again.”

My heart pounds at the desperate, hungry look in his eyes. “Why, then?”

“You should leave.” He drops his gaze, but his focus stays on mine. “Before I make a mistake.”

A thrill shoots through me. “What kind of mistake?”

Heat flares in his eyes and flashes through me, curling and twisting between my legs in a delicious pressure. His attention falls to my lips like he’s remembering what they felt like against his at the cast party.

God, I wish we’d kissed the other night.

“You want to know why I don’t touch you?” His blue eyes grow a shade darker. “Because if I start, I won’t stop.”

His weird moods this week. How pissed he was when Alexei asked me out. When Alexei showed up with flowers, Hayden looked like he wanted to kill him.

He’s not upset I’m moving on.

“You’re—” It can’t be true. It goes against everything I know about him.

“Say it.”

I swallow, heart pounding, and I shake my head. Being wrong about this would humiliate me.

“Say. It.”

“Jealous,” I blurt out. “You’re acting jealous.”

Tension hangs between us, crackling and electric.

He tilts his head, breathing uneven. “Who wouldn’t be, Darce?”

But he’s so hot. He’s the popular jock who could have anyone. I’m the weird girl who likes math, who got fired, and who was never quite right for my ex. I blink, scrambling for a way to explain this without sounding pathetic. “I just thought…”

“You just thought what?”

“I’m not your type. You’re so—” I shake myself, thoughts cluttered and murky.

“I’m so what?”

My heart gallops, thundering in my ears. “You can have anyone.”

“I hate hearing you say that,” he says quietly. “You know why I dated women who look nothing like you?”

Speechless, I shake my head.

“Because I didn’t want to be reminded of you. Because I was trying to convince myself I didn’t have feelings for you.” His Adam’s apple slides up and down as he swallows, pupils blown wide. “It never worked, though. My thoughts always wander back to you.”

My mind reels; I’m light-headed, dizzy, my thoughts racing and pinwheeling, grasping for purchase. This makes no sense. This is a hallucination. I slipped and hit my head outside the restaurant, and at any second, I’ll open my eyes to Hayden, Alexei, Georgia, and the paramedics bent over me as I lie on the sidewalk.

“You’re my type,” Hayden says like it hurts him. “More than anyone.” His head drops to my shoulder, and he takes a deep inhale, his fist coming to the wall beside my head on his shaky exhale. “I want you, Darcy,” he murmurs against my neck, and I shiver. “I want you so bad I can’t stay away. If you want things to stay the way they are, you need to leave my bedroom right now.”

I don’t care that we’re best friends. I don’t care that this is going to massively complicate everything. I just need him to touch me, right now, do something with this intense pressure he’s created between my legs.

I need to see what it would be like with us. Just once.

I flatten a hand on Hayden’s chest, feeling the gallop of his heartbeat. His eyes burn me, helpless but dark with lust.

“I don’t want things to stay the way they are,” I whisper, and his mouth crashes to mine.