45. Hayden

CHAPTER 45

HAYDEN

The night of the double date, I lean a hand on Darcy's bedroom doorframe, watching her get ready.

She looks stunning, hair loose and pretty around her shoulders and wearing a top the shade of the roses I bought her for Valentine's Day. And it's for him . My nostrils flare.

This morning, I saw the lingerie she bought hanging to dry in the bathroom, but when I walked past half an hour ago, it was gone.

She's wearing it for a date with him . I should be supportive of her, but I just feel sick and pissed off.

"Hey." She catches sight of me. "You look nice."

"Thanks." We're going to a casual restaurant tonight, so I'm dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and a knit sweater Darcy once said?—

"That blue color makes your eyes look like the ocean." She smiles over at me.

"I know." I feel like I can't breathe. "I remember."

She hums, smiling again, turning back to the mirror as she runs her fingers through her hair. Since she dyed it, she wears it down more, like she's proud of it and wants to show it off.

My gaze drops to her outfit, and a muscle in my chest tightens. Those jeans hug her ass in all the right places. The red top she's wearing? It's snug around her waist and chest, but looser in the sleeves. My hands would fit perfectly in the curve of her waist.

I know what Volkov's doing. He asked her out to make me jealous. He doesn't have feelings for her. Any guy who sees her in this outfit, though, won't be able to keep his hands off her. And maybe tonight is the night he changes his mind.

She does a double take at my expression. "What?"

"That's what you're wearing?"

Her smile drops and her gaze swings to the mirror, flashing with uncertainty, and I hate myself. My accusing tone makes me sound like a controlling asshole.

"No, fuck. Sorry." I rub the bridge of my nose. "That came out wrong. It's just different from what you normally wear." I gesture at her top. "Red," I add, because I'm a dumbass who can't think of words.

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 even It'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."

"They don't look fresh," I bite out and then immediately regret it when Georgia covers her mouth with her hand and turns away. "You should, uh, put them in water before they die."

Shut the fuck up , I think to myself, but I can't. I just stare at Volkov and pull myself up to my full height while he arches an eyebrow at me. I'm being a dick, but I don't care .

Darcy gives me a strange look. "I think they look great." She takes the flowers from him and he follows her into the kitchen.

When she can't reach the vase on the top shelf, I instinctively step forward, but fucking Volkov is there, helping her pull it down.

"What," Georgia murmurs, grinning, "no flowers for me?"

I give her an apologetic, embarrassed look. I've been so focused on Darcy going out with Volkov that I forgot I was also going on a date tonight. "Sorry."

She waves me off, smiling. "It's okay. We're friends, Owens. I'm just here for the entertainment." She smirks. "And you're buying dinner."

Darcy sets the flowers on the kitchen table, admiring them. "So pretty. I love getting flowers."

I'm buying her flowers every day for the rest of eternity.

"I saw them and thought of you," Volkov says to her. "They match your hair."

"They do. Good eye." Darcy leans over to smell the pale-purple flower closest to her.

"Look at you." I glare at him, my shoulder muscles tightening. "A real Casanova."

Georgia snorts, and Darcy gives me a teasing smile. "Maybe Alexei should give me dating lessons instead."

Volkov makes an amused noise in his throat and sharp jealousy stabs me in the gut.

"They look like funeral flowers," I bite out, hating myself.

I sound like an asshole. I'm being an asshole, but I can't stop. This is all turning into a fucking mess.

We leave the apartment, and I lock up as Darcy leads Volkov and Georgia to the elevator.

Nice , Georgia mouths behind their backs, giving me a sarcastic double thumbs-up. Very smooth .

My nostrils flare, and I haul a deep breath in just as the elevator door opens and Volkov puts a hand to Darcy's lower back.

Another slice of jealous fury jolts through me.

This is going to be a long fucking night.