17. Hayden

CHAPTER 17

HAYDEN

"How did I do tonight?" Darcy asks over her shoulder as I help her out of her coat.

Her eyes move around the apartment, over all the flowers I bought her, and she smiles.

"Andersen, you aced it. This has been the best date of my life." I shoot her a flirty grin to make her think I'm joking. "A-plus."

I can't stop thinking about what Kit did to her, proposing in front of everyone. The shocked expression on her face when he got down on one knee looks so much different in hindsight.

I felt guilty for thinking she didn't seem as excited as she should have been. Now I know how right I was.

She reaches down to take her heels off. "Best date of your life ? You say that to all the girls."

"Half the things we talk about, I don't say to other girls."

I don't talk about what type of porn I like or give them lessons on how to touch guys. And I sure as shit don't knock water over on the table because I'm sweating like some nervous teenager.

She bites back a smile, glowing with pleasure, and my heart squeezes in my chest. I've been trying not to stare at her all night, but I can't keep from letting my gaze linger on her.

Fucking hell, she's so beautiful. Smug pride weaves through me, expanding in my chest. Darcy rolls out of bed, makeup-free and hair a mess, and fine, I'll admit it, I'm attracted to her. But tonight, all dressed up?

She's stunning, and she looks like that for me .

My gaze drops to the hem of her short dress and the soft, smooth skin of her legs. I wonder what panties she's wearing. Darcy likes things to line up and coordinate, she likes things that make sense, so I'm thinking they match one of the colors on her dress.

My mind goes to the row of panties hanging in the bathroom to dry a couple of days ago. I had to grab something from under the sink when she wasn't home.

The light-pink pair, I bet.

"Best date of your life so far ," Darcy says, lifting a brow. "I might not put out."

I blanche, hit with the overwhelming urge to haul her over my shoulder and carry her to my bedroom.

Her eyes widen and she claps her hands on her face. "I was kidding," she moans, going red beneath her fingers. "I'm sorry. That was a joke. I was trying to be funny and it came out weird."

"It's fine." A hoarse laugh slips out of me. Is she trying to fucking kill me? "I know you were kidding. I'm going to change out of my suit."

In my room, I change into athletic pants and a t-shirt. Through the wall, I listen to her moving around her room—opening and closing drawers, her light footsteps, and then the click of hangers in her closet. The swish of her taking her dress off is probably in my imagination. The walls aren't that thin. Even so, I imagine her standing ten feet away in just her bra and panties.

My groin tightens. Jesus fuck. The things I would do to Darcy Andersen with my tongue alone. I'd work on her for hours, wringing every drop of pleasure out of her, coaxing her body to limits she didn't know existed.

Lust pulls heavy at the base of my spine and I suck in a deep breath, scrubbing a hand over my face before heading back to the living room. When I see her, my steps falter. She's sitting cross-legged on the sofa in leggings and an oversized black hoodie.

An urgent sense of possessiveness uncoils inside me. "Is that my hoodie?"

Her eyes cut to mine. "Yeah. Is that okay? It was on the couch and all mine are in the wash."

It's so big on her, and it's the cutest thing I've ever seen.

Fuck, I like that. I like that so much.

I can't even picture you with a girlfriend, she said earlier, in disbelief. The memory pinches hard, right behind my ribs.

"It's fine," I mumble.

Still, I imagine her losing the pants, just wearing my hoodie and a pair of panties. No bra. Smooth, soft skin. Maybe she's in my lap. Maybe she has her arms around my neck.

Maybe we're making out.

I turn away, wishing I'd taken a cold shower before changing.

"You still haven't answered me," she says as I take a seat on the sofa and stretch out.

"About what?"

"What kind of porn you watch."

Blood rushes to my cock, and I lean forward with my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands, thinking of the least arousing things I can in order to head off my erection. The smell of hockey equipment. The pain when I broke my collarbone in high school. The way pickles look, all shriveled and green.

Nope. I'm still picturing her sitting on my lap in my hoodie, moaning into my ear as I slide her underwear out of the way and work my fingers between her legs. Another shock of lust rockets through me.

It would be so easy to tell her about the OnlyFans couple I've been watching for years. They're a young married couple, and their videos don't feel like typical porn. Sometimes they're rushed and desperate and intense, sometimes they're slow and sleepy and lazy, but they always feel real. They never show faces, but she's petite, with long pale-blond hair. He has a similar build and hair color to me.

They look like Darcy and me. I pretend they're us. It's my shameful secret. One that I'll take to the grave. I pretend the videos are ones we made together, for our eyes only, and that it's her bouncing on my cock, gasping and shaking and moaning. It's my head between her legs, drawing her orgasm out. It's Darcy's ring finger that sparkles. I pretend that we're married, and that it's my hand clutching hers through our orgasms.

"I don't remember," I mumble into my hands.

She laughs. "Liar."

The second she sees, she'll know. Especially if she finds out they're the only porn I watch. I've lost interest in everything else.

"Okay, presents time." She hands me a small gift bag. "I saw this on Etsy last week and thought of you."

I give her a quick smile. "You shouldn't have." Inside the bag, my fingers meet soft cotton, and I pull the t-shirt out to look at it. The image on the front is an illustration of all the characters from The Northern Sword .

"It's by a local Vancouver artist," Darcy adds, a touch of shyness in her voice.

My chest floods with warmth as I stare at the lines of the illustration. "No one's ever bought me clothes except my mom."

Darcy groans. "Great. I'm like your mom?"

I laugh. "No, that's not what I meant. It's nice. I love it."

It feels like she's taking care of me. Like I'm hers.

I stand and whip my shirt off, and her eyes widen in alarm.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying it on."

"Now?"

"I want to make sure it fits." Satisfaction thumps in my chest when I catch Darcy's eyes lingering on my taut stomach.

I work hard. My body is my job, and I know what I look like. From the way she's staring, Darcy does, too.

"Excuse me, ma'am." I snap my fingers, smirking and pointing at my face. "Eyes up here."

She jerks her gaze up, her face turning a fucking adorable shade of pink. "Sorry."

I chuckle, flexing. "It's fine. Go ahead and ogle me, Andersen."

"Oh my god." She turns away as I change positions to show off more muscles. "Stop it, you egomaniac." An embarrassed laugh slips out of her, and I grin harder.

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" I flex my biceps, one at a time, and she cackles with laughter. "Are you getting too warm? Is it hot in here, or is it just me?"

"Does this actually work on women?"

"I don't know. I don't act like this with women. They'd run screaming."

I never laugh or act goofy like this with the women I go out with. I don't laugh like this with anyone but her. Darcy makes a pleased humming noise, and I relent, pulling the t-shirt over my head.

"What do you think?" I hold my arms out for her approval, and she smiles, nodding as her gaze moves over me, snagging on my chest, shoulders, and waist.

"It fits." She meets my eyes, lifting her brows in a question. "Do you like it?"

"I love it." I really fucking do. I like her buying me clothes, and I like her wearing my hoodie. I like going out for dinner and sitting on the couch beside her after in the home where we live together.

"One more." As I take the seat beside her on the couch, the line of her throat works, and she hands me a flat wrapped package about the size of a book.

"Jeez, Andersen, you're spoiling me."

She shifts, pulling her knee up beneath her on the couch. Even though we're not touching, I can feel her body heat. I pull the wrapping paper off, and my heart shoots up into my throat.

It's a framed photo of us in university. Third year, I think. We're dressed in green, wearing cheap plastic hats that we got on the St. Patrick's Day pub crawl. One of my arms is looped around her shoulder, and we're both holding our dyed green hands up to the camera, smiling ear to ear.

"It's too sentimental, isn't it?" She winces. "Sorry. I just love this photo. It's my favorite."

The ache in my chest unfolds, taking up more space. "Hey." I hook my arm around her like in the photo, pulling her against me. My no touching Darcy rule fades into the background. "Shut up," I murmur, teasing.

"You don't have to display it or anything," she protests.

I press a hand over her mouth, stifling her laughter. "Just shut your little mouth, okay?" I say gently to make her laugh again, my skin tingling at the way her smile feels under my palm. "I love it." I press a quick, firm kiss to her forehead.

Now I don't feel so weird about my second gift to her. She's going to say I spent way too much, but this framed photo of Darcy and me is priceless.

Besides, she's going to hate my first gift, and I can't wait.

"What are you smiling at?" she asks.

I grin wider. "I can't wait to give you your present." I head to my room, slip the small box into my pocket, and then carry the big box back to the living room.

"You really didn't have to get me anything," she says, eyes lighting up with curiosity as I set it on the coffee table. The box is light but big, taking up half the surface of the table. "You already got enough flowers to last a lifetime."

"Oh, wait until you unwrap it to thank me." I try not to grin too hard as I flop back down on the couch.

She pulls the paper off and her curious expression drops into a flat, unamused frown.

"Hayden."

I start shaking with laughter as she stares at the box, repulsed.

"Please tell me this is a joke and that's not actually what's inside."

"Open it and find out." God, this is fun.

She opens the flap of the box and groans. "Are you serious?"