6. Darcy

CHAPTER 6

DARCY

"No." Hayden laughs, peering over my shoulder at my phone screen. "This isn't real."

"It is. Just wait." His fresh-out-of-the-shower scent washes over me, clean and sharp, and my stomach dips. "Rule number one: A player is always confident and chill." I give a pointed look to Hayden beside me—stretched out with his toned arm across the top of the booth—and match his body language. He moves his arm away to give me space. I'm shorter than him, so I have to stretch to reach the top of the booth. It looks neither confident nor chill, but it makes Hayden laugh.

I tip my chin, give him a sleazy smile, and wink. "Hey, baby, how you doin'?"

He snorts. "You're a natural."

"Thank you." I chuckle and turn back to my list. "Rule number two: Have a player-worthy pad. Leather couches and a big-screen TV will make women feel at home." My expression turns dubious. "I don't know if that's true, but your apartment is nice."

He wasn't lying during his emergency phone call—he does live in the penthouse of his building in the Gastown neighborhood. It's a loft-style apartment with brick accents, two-story windows with a view of the North Shore, a sprawling kitchen, and a huge patio with a hot tub, covered seating area, and tons of greenery. It's perfect for entertaining and hosting parties, and I'm sure it would impress any guy I go out with.

I picture bringing guys there after dates, though, and get a weird twinge in my stomach. Hayden's my friend, and I dated Kit in front of him for years, so it shouldn't matter, but putting the moves on a guy while Hayden's in his bedroom, or worse, watching ? That gives me the no feeling.

" Our apartment," he says.

I give him a curious look. "Hmm?"

"You said ‘your apartment,' but you live there now, too." His mouth tips up. "That was the deal. You promised."

Warmth settles in the middle of my chest. "You own it, though. And I don't pay rent."

He shrugs me off. "Details."

"Hayden."

He meets my eyes, and the corner of his mouth slides up in a boyish grin. "Darcy." I open my mouth to protest, but he cuts me off. "I like having you as a roommate. You like living there, right?"

"Of course." He's a hell of a lot tidier than Kit, and he does all his own laundry. I use the main bathroom, and he has his own attached to his bedroom, so we're not fighting over the shower. I like coming home after work to see him when he's in town and not playing a game. "It feels like we're back in university, living in dorms."

"Good." He leans in and lowers his voice. "So stop arguing."

I laugh, and my heart squeezes with affection for this guy. No matter how famous he gets, regardless of how much money he makes or his status as one of the best players in the league, he's kind .

"Any changes you want to make to the place," he adds, "I'm fine with."

" Any changes?" I narrow my eyes, trying not to smile and give away the surprise I have waiting for him when we get home. "So if I wanted to hang a giant disco ball in the middle of the living room and paint the floors neon orange, you'd be cool with that?"

He grins. "Sounds fun."

"You're just the most agreeable guy in the world, aren't you? Or maybe you just really want me to get laid."

Mid-sip of his drink, he coughs. Once he recovers, he nods at my phone. "What's number three?"

"Rule number three," I read. "Look like a player, not a square. Show those ladies you're here for a good time, not a long time. You don't want anyone thinking you're husband material, so your hairstyle, clothing, and car should reflect your true player nature. Peacocking will give your game a boost of rocket fuel, lubricating conversation." I grimace. "Gross." My expression changes as the words sink in, and I look down at my wool sweater. A sweater identical to the one I wore the other night but in a different color.

This sweater is warm and durable. It looks nice with jeans, but I can also pair it with low heels and wear it to the office. The price was reasonable. For an item of clothing, it's as responsible as it gets, and yet I don't love it. It's fine. I don't get excited about wearing it, and I don't think it looks that good on me.

In university, I used to wear a The Northern Sword t-shirt all the time. That's how Hayden and I met—he recognized it, and we started talking before class.

Why don't I wear stuff like that anymore?

Isn't it a little, uh, loud? Kit asked once when I brought home a new bright orange dress. Something about the vibrant tangerine color had made me so happy. You really want to stick out like that?

I make a face at Hayden. "I look like marriage material."

"Come on," Hayden says, giving me a look of disbelief.

"It's true." I gesture at myself. "I look responsible, like I always do my taxes on time and get oil changes when I'm supposed to and take a vitamin D supplement."

He arches an eyebrow, eyes twinkling. "You do all those things."

"Exactly." I flap my hand at him and he laughs. "Don't you see? I need to dress and look like someone you don't bring home to mom. That's what rule number three is trying to say. You're here for a good time, not a long time ."

"Wait." Rory leans forward with a curious grin. "What are you reading?"

"It's a list on how to be a player." I hold up my phone. "I found it on the internet." Everyone pauses their conversation to listen in, confused. "Hayden's my new wingman."

There's a long beat of silence at the table before Hazel's lips part in surprise, eyes lit up with interest. "Really?"

My cheeks feel warm, but I force myself to sit up straighter. "Yep. I just got out of an eight-year relationship and I'm not going to waste another second."

Hazel and Pippa exchange another one of those weighted glances. Rory looks at Hayden, and there's something in his eyes that I can't read either. Jamie just stares at Pippa like she's a snack he wants to eat.

"What?" I look from one face to another, worry rising in my throat. "You think it's dumb. You think it's a bad idea."

"No!" Pippa perks up. "You just got out of a long relationship and you deserve to have fun. And Hayden's the perfect person for this. "

Hazel wiggles her eyebrows at Hayden. "Exactly. You two get along very well."

Hayden looks away before he gestures at my list. "You don't need to change your appearance, Darce."

"I know I don't need to, but what if I want to?" Something urgent flows through me. "I'm making a fresh start. Why am I dressing like the version of myself I left back in Calgary?" I look down at myself. "I should buy new clothes."

"What's wrong with your clothes?" Pippa asks, looking heartbroken. "I love that sweater."

"I wore this sweater on a date, and the guy practically introduced me to his mother on the spot," I tell her and Hazel, making them grin. "It's responsible. I don't want to look responsible, I want to look hot. I want to look like someone you have fun with, not someone you spend forever with. And I want to wear clothes I love, not clothes I feel neutral about."

Hazel gives me an appraising nod. "I can get on board with this, but don't look at me for fashion advice." She gestures at her yoga leggings. "Everything I wear is made of Lycra. Easy to move in."

Rory's eyes flicker with interest. "I'm not complaining."

"Don't be gross," she says to him, but she's smiling, and my heart does a funny thump.

"You know who would be good to go shopping with?" Pippa says to her sister. "Georgia."

Hazel's eyes go wide with enthusiasm. " Yes ."

At the end of the table, Alexei makes a noise of disgust. "If you want Darcy to drain her savings, maybe. The doctor's a bad influence."

"Excuse me." Hazel gives him a hard look. "Just because you don't get along with her doesn't mean she's a bad influence. What is this, second grade?"

"She's one of the team doctors, and you'll love her," Pippa confides to me. "She wears the best shoes."

Happy, light feelings bubble through me, and I bite back a grin so I don't seem too eager. "I'm in. Just say when."

"Great." Pippa smiles. "I'll arrange something."

Hayden's looking down at me with a wary expression, so I give him a playful nudge. "What's peacocking?"

"Wearing something bold that people comment on."

My gaze rakes over him—he's wearing a black soft-shell jacket that brightens the color of his blue eyes, a crisp white t-shirt, and jeans. Nothing bright or bold. "You don't do that."

His flirty grin appears. "I don't need to."

I snort. "Well, obviously I do."

He tugs on a lock of my hair, and it makes my scalp tingle in a pleasant way. "Buzz cut?"

I chuckle. "It's a great look, but I'm not sure I can pull it off."

A memory of a conversation I had with Kit floats into my head. I've always wanted to dye my hair purple, I told him. Since I was a little girl. A pale purple, like lavender.

He made a face. You don't really want to do that to your hair, do you? he asked. It would look childish . Your hair is nice as it is .

God, he was annoying. He had this specific image of the ideal woman, and now that I've had some distance from the relationship and time to stack all these memories side by side, I see that I never fit that image.

I showed him glimpses of who I really am, and he discouraged it. What does that say about me?

Maybe he was right about the hair, though. It would be a lot. I doubt pale-purple hair would go over well in my stuffy corporate insurance office.

Hayden nudges me with his elbow, watching my face. "What else is on that list?"

"Rule number four: always have a plan. That's where you come in, of course. I've got everything else covered."

Hayden doesn't say anything, so I read the last one on the list.

"Rule number five: never get attached." My mouth tugs up into a crooked smile, but it feels forced. "No chance of that, obviously."

Hayden watches me for a long time. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

There's something serious in the way he's looking at me, like he's worried I'm making a big mistake.

It doesn't feel like a mistake, though. It feels like my only option. I can't go back to who I was before, letting someone take the reins on my life. Even now—hanging out at the bar with everyone, talking and laughing and not worrying that we're staying out too late for Kit, who liked to go to bed early—I'm starting to feel like myself again.

Hayden's worried I'll get my heart broken, I bet. If I were to fall for someone, I'd lose myself all over again. I just know it. I'm not like Hazel or Pippa, who both have a strong sense of self. I'm still figuring myself out.

"Absolutely," I tell him. "The probability of me falling for someone is zero. I'm not looking for anything serious." I smile to show him I'm totally fine. "So when do we start? Now?"

He rubs the back of his neck. "Not here, with everyone watching. Let's go out tomorrow, just you and me."

"And you'll show me how to hit on guys?"

He taps his tongue to his top lip, features tight. "Yep."

Excitement and nerves flutter through me. "Tomorrow, it is."