Page 164 of The Wingman

“It’s perfect.” My gaze rises to him. “You’re perfect, and I can’t wait to spend forever with you.”

He slips the ring onto my finger, and we both smile at each other before he gets up and kisses me.

That evening, we open the door of the Filthy Flamingo to a chorus of cheers and applause.

“Congratulations, lovebirds,” Rory says, grinning and handing us flutes ofchampagne.

Everyone is here—our friends, our parents, the team, and my colleagues, even Ward. There’s a blown-up photo of us from the park today someone must have taken, of Hayden kneeling in front of me, holding the ring while I stare in delighted shock. From behind the bar, Jordan winks at me, mixing cocktails, and on the specials board above her, there’s a new cocktail.

The Wingman—strong, sweet, and cheeky. The drink you didn’t know you needed!

After everyone has congratulated us, Georgia pulls me away to inspect the ring.

“It turned out beautifully.” Her smile is wistful as she tilts my hand back and forth, making the diamonds sparkle in the bar lighting. “Just beautifully.”

My eyebrows lift in a teasing smile. “Did you know about this?”

She scoffs. “Of course. Everyone helped. Even the grumpy Russian.” Her eyes dart down the bar. Hayden’s talking with Rory, Jamie, and Alexei, who frowns in our direction, then quickly looks away.

Georgia sighs another happy sound and squeezes my hand, a smile softening her features. “I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks, friend. We probably have you to thank for this whole situation. You and your obsession with lingerie.”

Her mouth tilts, smug and amused. “You both just needed a little encouragement.”

I shake my head, grinning. I can’t even be mad. “You know who you sound like? Alexei.”

She pretends to gag, taking a sip of her drink, and light glints off her hand, snagging my attention.

My eyes go wide. There’s a ring on Georgia’s left-hand ring finger.

“Wait.” I catch her hand to look at the band. “What’s this?”

She doesn’t usually wear rings, and definitely not onthatfinger.

She shifts, shrugging. “Oh, that?” She clears her throat, gaze darting across the bar to something.

“Yes,this.”

She taps her upper lip with her tongue. “I got married,” she says lightly.

“Married?” My jaw drops. “To who? When?Why? I didn’t even know you were seeing someone.”

I will never get married, she said last year during our double date.

Her pale throat works as she swallows, and finally, she meets my gaze. “Volkov.”

Hayden and I walk home hand in hand, buzzing from happiness and the promise of what’s to come. Probably those Wingman drinks, too.

“I guess I didn’t make a very good player, did I?”

He laughs. “No, you didn’t, and thank fuck for that.” His mouth hitches higher as he looks down at me. “I wasn’t either. I was always hung up on you.”

“I’m okay with that.” I bump my shoulder against him. “It worked out in the end. I can’t wait to marry my best friend, Hayden Owens.”

Emotion flickers in his eyes. “I can’t wait to marry my best friend, Darcy Andersen.” He stops walking, and with his hand beneath my chin, tipping my face up, he gives me a soft kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you, and even though I was terrible at it, asking you to teach me to be a player was the smartest thing I ever did.”

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