Page 122 of The Wingman

“You would look so good in that.”

I stop in my tracks. It’s similar to the dress I bought last year, the tangerine one that hung in my closet with the tags on until I donated it.

The one Kit said was too loud.

The one I wish I hadn’t gotten rid of. By giving it away without wearing it, I let him win.

“It’s so bright,” I say, as if I’m able to take my eyes off it. As if I don’t feel an urgent tug in my chest toward it.

“Just try it on.”

“I have nowhere to wear it.” I don’t know why I’m fighting this so hard. It’s just a stupid dress.

It’snotjust a stupid dress, a voice insists in my head.It’s more. It’s that part of you that wasn’t enough for him.

“You can wear it to Jamie and Pippa’s wedding.”

Idoneed a dress for their wedding. If Georgia were here, she’d already be hauling me into the store.

Hayden doesn’t even know about the dress I bought and donated; that must meansomething, right?

“Okay.” I nod resolutely. “I’ll try it on.”

“You look beautiful” is the first thing Hayden says when I step out of the dressing room. He leans against the wall, gaze raking up and down my form, wearing a stunned expression.

Ifeelbeautiful. Just like the dress I tried on with Georgia that time, the dress is a perfect fit, like it was designed just for me.

But it’s more than that. Wearing this dress feels like victory. Like I’m a little closer to wherever I wanted to be all those months ago, when I left Calgary, lost and confused.

“It’s not too”—I try not to choke on the word—“loud?”

He makes a face like I’m ridiculous. “No way. And who cares if it is? You’re gorgeous. What’s wrong with standing out?”

“I’m going to someone else’s wedding.” I study my reflection, and my stomach does an excited flop at the way the dress skims over my body. “I don’t want to stand out too much and steal their thunder.”

“As long as you don’t get on the table and try to take it off, I think you’re good. Pippa doesn’t really care about the spotlight; she just cares about playing music. Besides,” his eyes soften and he gives me a sweet, encouraging smile, “I like it when you wear bright colors. It feels like you’re not trying to hide anymore.”

When I wear this dress, I no longer feel like the girl who was never good enough for Kit or the girl who got herself and her boss and mentor fired. I feel like Darcy Andersen, the woman who loves fantasy romance, making the world better with math, and who loves to laugh with her best friend,Hayden. The woman who has created a new life for herself here in Vancouver from nothing.

In this dress, I feel like myself.

His eyes trail down my form, his throat works, and he adjusts himself.

A grin tips up on my mouth. “Are you okay?”

“No,” he laughs, looking away before his gaze swings back to my body, and his eyes spark with heat.

I step closer, walking slowly, and his eyes drag over me again. He wets his lips, and his cheekbones go pink.

I push my hair back behind my shoulders and his gaze drops to my collarbones. “Am I flustering you?”

“Yes.” He grabs my waist and pulls me against him while I shake with laughter. “And if you don’t stop, I’m following you back into that dressing room.” He brushes his lips over the shell of my ear and I shudder with pleasure.

“Who knew you’d react like this to a dress.”

“It’s not the dress, Darce.” His breath is warm on my neck. “It’s you.”

In the dressing room, I nearly choke at the price on the tag.

---