Page 134 of The Wingman

It can’t be.

“How did—” I give Hayden a searching look, but he just smiles wider. “Hayden. How?”

It’s impossible to get an early copy. A.R. Haddington’s publisher doesn’t send out early copies for fear of spoilers leaking. Tickets to the midnight release parties for her new books are sold out the day they go on sale.

“Who did you kill to get this?”

He lets out a tight laugh, and there’s something in his expression that catches my attention, like he’s nervous. “Is it too much?”

“No.” I shake my head hard. “I love it.” I flip the cover open to check the print date, and my pulse halts at the loopy signature on the title page. “Oh my god.”

For Darcy, brave like The Northern Sword.

-A.R. Haddington

I blink at it, stunned.

“Hayden.” My voice sounds strange. She’s notoriously reclusive. No social media, no public appearances. No one knows what she looks like, what her initials stand for, or even what country she lives in, and she definitely doesn’t sign books. “Seriously. How did you get this?”

He lifts his big shoulder in a casual shrug, but a pleased smile toys at his mouth. “I pulled a couple strings.”

“This isThe Devil Wears Pradalevel of pulling strings. What did you do?”

“I had the Storm PR team reach out to the publisher. I told her about you.”

“Who?”

He tilts his chin at the book. “A.R. Haddington.”

“No.”

He laughs. “Yes. I told her how we met in school and bonded over the book series, and how we’ve been friends for years. I told her about you finally leaving your boring insurance job for an analytics job with the Storm and how you’re the only woman in the room at work but you’re brave and smart and passionate about what you do.” He glances away, and it feels like there’s a part he isn’t telling me. “I made a donation to her favorite charity, too.”

“How much?”

He just shrugs, smiling.

“Hayden.” I lean forward and give him a hard look, but I’m smiling. “How much?”

He squints. “I don’t remember.”

“You are such a liar,” I whisper, heart beating out of my chest with affection and warmth and big, intense feelings for Hayden Owens.

I try to say words, but I have none. My heart pounds as I run my fingertip over thesignature.

It’s the best gift I’ve ever gotten. It’s the best gift I could have even imagined. Only Hayden would get me something like this, something I didn’t even know I wanted.

Only Hayden sees me like this.

“Thank you,” I manage, and my eyes sting, sharp and sudden. “Sorry.” I turn away, blinking away the tears.

Immediately, he reaches for me, turning me back to him with strong, warm hands. “Hey, hey.” His voice is gentle, calming, making it so much worse. “It’s okay. Come here.”

He pulls me against his chest, his comforting scent and the warm planes of his torso flooding my senses. He trails slow strokes against my back while I lean into him.

“So I guess you like it?”

I huff a laugh. “Yes, Hayden. I like it. I think I like it more than anything else I own.” I glance at my wrist, at the bracelet I only take off to shower. “Or just as much as the bracelet.”

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