13. Hayden

CHAPTER 13

HAYDEN

The front door opens that evening while I'm making dinner, and Darcy carries in a handful of bags from her shopping trip with Georgia.

"Hi," she calls, smiling and setting them in the closet.

"Hey." I pull the roasted veggies out of the oven. "Just in time. Did you eat?"

"No, Georgia had to get to a clinic she volunteers at." She comes to stand beside me, and when her arm brushes mine, I take a step toward the sink to put some space between us.

"Is there enough?" She rubs her arm absently where we touched. "You eat so much."

I chuckle, dishing her out a plate. "I made extra for you." I was hoping she'd be home in time. My chin tilts toward the island chairs. "Go sit."

She gives me a grateful smile. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it." I follow her and set a plate down in front of her before taking a seat on the stool beside her. "Looks like a successful shopping trip."

"Georgia forced me to buy a bunch of stuff and we made a plan to go again in a few weeks." She takes a bite and her eyes close as she chews. "Oh my god," she mutters, and her sigh of happiness and satisfaction goes straight to my groin. "This is so good. Beets and goat cheese are a match made in heaven."

I swallow, staring at her mouth. A weird, masculine sense of pride expands in my chest as she enjoys the dinner I made for her.

My gaze lifts to hers, and our eyes hold. I'm thinking about the other night, when she sifted her delicate fingers through my hair and touched my thigh. It felt so fucking good I could hardly stand it. Within seconds, I was painfully hard, and I almost pulled her into my lap right there so she could feel how well her flirting had worked. Instead, I made myself come in the shower, muffling my groan into my hand as I pictured that sweet little mouth wrapped around my cock, swallowing me down.

"Georgia is kind of intense, but I like her. I think we're friends now." She eats another bite of food, and I watch as the mouthful disappears, her lips sliding over the fork.

"Georgia's great." I yank my attention away from things I shouldn't be thinking about. "She doesn't take shit from any of the guys." Especially Volkov, which irritates him to no end. "Are you going to show me what you bought?"

She bites her lip, hesitating, but her eyes glitter with excitement.

I arch an eyebrow at her, starting to smile. "Don't tell me she made you buy a leather catsuit or something."

She laughs. "No. She made me buy a dress that's different from what I'd normally wear, but I love it."

"Show me."

She wrinkles her nose. "I don't know."

Forgetting my vow not to touch her, I nudge her with my elbow. "Come on."

She gives me a long, deliberating look. "Okay, but I'm not trying it on for you." She slides off her stool and heads to the front door, where her shopping bag sits. Then she pulls out a bright orange, pink, and purple dress.

My grin stretches ear to ear. It's so fun and pretty. So Darcy. "I love it, Darce. Great choice." It's short, too, and Darcy has great legs. Smooth and toned and soft-looking.

"Really?" She holds the dress up, studying it with a small smile. "I guess I need something nice if I end up going out on a date."

My lungs tighten, and I picture her wearing this dress that makes her feel pretty and special while she's sitting across from some fucking guy making eyes at her. Hot jealousy wrenches in my gut, and my teeth grind.

She frowns at me. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." I clear my expression, but her curious gaze lingers on me.

"What did you want to ask me today, in the lobby?"

My nerves jump, but I'm grateful for the change of subject, and now I know exactly where she's going to wear that dress.

"I was thinking we could get dinner."

She shrugs. "Sure."

We get takeout all the time, and I made it sound too casual.

"No, like, uh. Let's go out on a date." I run my hand over my hair. If the guys on the team saw me all nervous like this, I'd never hear the end of it.

Her brow furrows with confusion. "A date."

She thinks I'm hitting on her. She thinks I'm asking her out for real. "Because you said you were nervous to date new people right now, and you like knowing all the next steps," I add quickly. "So let's go out on a practice date. As friends. And as your wingman."

I clear my throat. Jesus fuck, Owens. Get your shit together . This is embarrassing. It's like I'm the one who needs lessons.

"Right." She seems relieved. "Practice date, as friends. "

Her expression is hard to read, but I can see her mind working.

"Unless you've changed your mind."

"No." Her eyes go wide. "I haven't changed my mind. That's a really good idea." She nods to herself. "We should definitely go on a date."

He's my best friend, and I'd never say this out loud, but Kit's so fucking dumb for all the chances he missed with Darcy. Never taking her out on a real date? Unbelievable.

"That date with the guy who kept talking about weddings and babies didn't count," I say for some reason.

She smiles. "You just want to be the first."

Hot, possessive feelings rocket through me, and the primal part of my brain likes the idea of being the first anything where Darcy's concerned.

"You got me." I give her a flirty smile. "Come on, Darce, feed my ego."

She rolls her eyes. "Your ego is big enough, but yes, I'm in. When were you thinking?"

"Tomorrow."

There's a long pause between us where her brow wrinkles with adorable confusion, and I wonder if I've gone too far.

"Tomorrow's Valentine's Day."

"Yeah." My pulse beats in my ears like I'm running drills on the ice. "I know. You said you've never been out on Valentine's Day."

"I haven't."

"Well, I'm your wingman, and we're practicing, so it's my job to show you what it should be like."

Her eyebrows go up, but she's smiling. "Taking your role very seriously, I see."

"The most serious." I'm smiling, too. Around her, I can't help it. "You deserve to know your worth. "

My words linger in the air, hovering dangerously close to the truth: that I'm disappointed and furious that Kit never spoiled her the way she deserves, and that I'm disappointed and furious that I never noticed.

Kit had her for eight years, and he didn't take her out once ?

Fuck him for making her feel like that. Fuck him for not treating her well enough.

Maybe I feel a sick sense of territorial pride, too, at being the first guy to take Darcy out on Valentine's Day. She's a knockout. She's smart and funny and beautiful and kind, and she wants to go out on Valentine's Day.

Even if she doesn't want a relationship right now and we're just friends, I want Darcy to have whatever she wants. It's as simple as that.

I fold my arms and lean back against the counter. "What do you say?"

The corner of her mouth curls up in a shy smile, and I want to drag my thumb over her bottom lip, just to see what would happen.

"I'd love to go out with you on Valentine's Day."

"For practice," I add, so she doesn't think I'm getting the wrong idea. "Because I'm your wingman."

"Sure." She nods hard. "Totally."

"Good."

"Yeah. Good."

We stare at each other for a long moment, smiling, and something expands in my chest.

I don't tell her I've never been out on Valentine's Day, either. I've always been careful not to lead women on—no meeting each other's families, no sleeping over at each other's places, and definitely no going out on Valentine's Day. That's a serious relationship kind of thing .

Tomorrow, though, I'm going to show Darcy exactly how she should be treated.

Later, I lie on my back, head on my pillow, and stare at the ceiling, listening to the soft sounds from Darcy's room as she gets ready for bed—padding back and forth to the bathroom to brush her teeth, the muffled slide of her dresser drawers, and, maybe I'm imagining it, but the rustle of sheets as she climbs into bed.

Tomorrow needs to be special and memorable. It needs to be the best fucking Valentine's Day she'll ever have.

Should I be doing this? Kit thinks I'm watching out for her, taking care of her and making sure she's okay, not changing her life. From his periodic texts asking how she's doing, I suspect he's taking the breakup harder than she is.

And yet I reach for my phone and open my group chat with Miller, Streicher, and Volkov.

I need your help , I text.