Excerpt
The Wingman
Chapter 1Hayden“Stop staring at Darcy,” Jordan says as she trades my empty glass for a new beer.
I pull my attention from three tables away, where my friend and roommate is on a date with some guy whose gaze keeps straying to her tits.
“I’m not staring.”
My eyes return to Darcy’s hair, pale-blond and gleaming in the low dive bar lighting. It’s her first date after a broken engagement with my best friend, Kit. Her back is to me, so I can’t see her expression.
“What’s your read on him?” I ask Jordan. “I don’t think she’s laughed once.”
Darcy’s date is doing most of the talking.
Jordan rolls her eyes.
“She’s fine.”
“I know she’s fine.” As the late-twenties bartender and owner of the Filthy Flamingo, the dive bar we frequent after Vancouver Storm games, Jordan’s had plenty of experience watching train-wreck dates.
On a date, though, Darcy should be more than fine. This guy should be falling at her feet, doing whatever he can for her attention. Darcy Andersen’s the full package. Smart, hilarious, and gorgeous, with pretty, pale-blond hair, sea-green eyes, and an adorable nose that turns up at the tip. And she’s the biggest fan of the fantasy romance series
The Northern Sword, which is how we met eight years ago—when I took the seat beside her in first-year university English, wearing a t-shirt from the book series.
She’s going to get snapped up in a heartbeat.
Not that I care. It’s nice having her all to myself after she’s been living in Calgary with Kit for four years, is all.
Jordan arches a brow. “So why are you sitting here like her overprotective dad?”
Knots tighten in my chest, but I give her a lazy, confident grin. “What, I can’t have a drink by myself?”
“You’re never by yourself, party animal.”
I huff a tight laugh. I knew we should have gone some‐ where else.
On the Vancouver Storm hockey team, I’m the life of the party. The fun one who rallies everyone to go to the Filthy Flamingo after games. The crappy little dive bar with band posters, cheap beer, and string lights across the ceiling is where we prefer to hang out. It’s rare that we’re recognized here, and if the other patrons do recognize us, they’d never dare say anything in front of Jordan.
Darcy wanted to come here, though.
“I told Kit I’d look out for her after they broke up.” I rub the back of my neck. After playing hockey together since we were teenagers, the guy’s my closest friend, even if we do play for different NHL teams now. “And she was nervous about tonight, so I volunteered to sit a few tables away for support.”
“For support.”
“Yeah. In case anything happens.” I sound defensive, so I throw on another one of those cocky smiles. “I can be very intimidating.”
As a defenseman, I’m a big guy. I work with some of the best athletic trainers, dieticians, and coaches in professional sports, and it shows.
“Yeah.” She snorts with a flat look. “You’re terrifying, alright.”
I give her a charming grin, but my gaze swings back to Darcy. “Go see what they’re talking about.”
“Owens, leave her alone.”
I put my hands up in surrender. “I promise not to interfere unless she sends me the signal.”
Flick your drink coaster onto the floor, I told Darcy earlier, making her laugh, and I’ll call you with a fake emergency. Jordan shakes her head, but her mouth twists up with wry amusement. “You two are ridiculous.”
She heads back to the bar, and my gaze slides over to Darcy again.
She tugs at her sleeve. Shifts in her seat. Glances over her shoulder.
I pause with my beer halfway to my mouth.
He says something that makes her shoulders hitch up with tension. I’m back on high alert, wishing I could read lips, when her paper coaster flies off the table and hits the floor. My mouth slides into a grin, and I press my phone to my ear as it rings.
“Hello?” she answers, sounding worried.
“Something, something excuse.”
She gasps, and I grin wider at the back of her head. “Oh my god. What? Are you okay?”
“I have half a percent of battery left and chose to call you instead of 911.” My chest expands, sparks cracking and popping behind my sternum. I’m smiling like a fool. “I could climb down the side of the building, but this is the penthouse, and I
am naked.”
“You got hit by a car?” I can hear her trying not to laugh.
“Yes. Naked. I was flexing and the driver got distracted. I caused a ten-car pileup.”
“And you’re in the hospital?”
“Yep, and they keep staring at all my muscles.” I sigh. “It’s making me feel objectified, like a piece of meat. I don’t know how I’m going to get through this without you.”
From three booths away, I can sense her eye roll. A shy wallflower, I am not. She covers a laugh with a quick cough.
“You poor thing. That sounds scary. I’ll be right there. And Hayden?”
“Yeah, Darce?”
“Don’t cry. It’s going to be okay.”
She hangs up, and I chuckle.
See, that’s the kind of stuff we should be doing. Not her on some date with a guy who can’t stop drooling over her tits.
