Page 76 of The Wingman

“You okay?” I ask, heading to her room.

“Yep,” she calls back. When I pause in the doorway, she’s struggling with the window, trying to pull it closed. “It’s stuck.” She steps back to study it. “I think a bird flew into it and bent the screen.”

I walk over and lean in to look. She’s right—the screen frame is bent, and now the window won’t slide on the track. Because we’re so many floors up, the screens don’t come out easily, otherwise I’d just pop it out. Something about building code.

“There’s a maintenance number I can call.” I slip my phone out of my back pocket, find the number, and dial, giving Darcy a quick smile as it rings.

“Is this an emergency?” a guy answers. The background is so noisy, he has to shout.

“Uh.” I look at Darcy and she gives me an odd look. “No?”

“I’m dealing with a burst pipe on the second floor and it’s flooding four apartments,” the guy says. “Text me the problem and I’ll get to it as soon as I’m done here.”

“Got it. Thanks.”

I hang up and start tapping out a text detailing the issue and our apartment number. “It might be a while.”

“Oh.” Darcy bites her lip, glancing at the window and then at the clock on her dresser. It’s almost midnight. “I should go to bed. It’s a work night. Maybe he can come fix it tomorrow morning.”

I frown at her. “It’s freezing in here.”

“I’ll close the door so it won’t be cold in the rest of the apartment.”

“No, Darce.” Does she think I’m worried aboutmyself? “I don’t wantyouto be too cold.”

“I’ll wear a hoodie. It’stotally fine.”

An unhappy expression settles on my face. I don’t like this. It’s the middle of winter. She’s going to be cold. “You can sleep in my bed.”

“What?” She blinks.

My mind is already made up. “You sleep in my bed, and I’ll sleep on the couch.”

The force of my words surprises me, but the idea of Darcy in my bed takes root in my brain and grows, spreading like wildfire, sending heat and sparks down my spine. The caveman part of my brain likes this image.

“You don’t have to do that,” she says softly, gaze roaming over my face.

Is that relief or disappointment? My eyes cut to her desk and land on the sex toy I bought her before I jerk my gaze away.

“Darcy, I don’t want you sleeping in an igloo all night. Worrying whether you’re warm enough is going to keep me awake all night, and we have another game tomorrow.” I tilt an encouraging smile at her. “And I need my rest.”

“I’ll sleep on the couch,” she says. “Since you need your rest.”

“No.” I shake my head, still wearing a smile. She’s so cute, especially in this jersey. I never want her to take it off. “My mind’s made up. I’m a gentleman, you know.”

The corners of her mouth tip higher. “I didn’t say you weren’t.”

Her throat works, and her eyes trace over my mouth, my jaw, my neck. My mind goes to our practice kiss at the cast party and how it felt when I pulled her into my lap. How it felt when we woke up together, her head on my chest, hair spilling over my skin.

Her mouth twists like she’s deliberating, and her gaze lifts to mine. “You said you need your rest.”

I arch an eyebrow, and she shifts on her feet, looking away.

“It’s not a big deal if we both sleep in your bed,” she says, shrugging. “We’re friends.”

My pulse turns rapid and I drag a deep breath into my lungs.

Every time I get near her, it’s almost too good to bear, and the grip on my control loosens.

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