Page 54 of The Wingman

“Hey,” she says and whacks me.

“Why are you always hitting me?”

“Because I don’t want to hear that kind of talk. You’re family. End of discussion.”

My heart warms. Yeah, they’ve all been my family since I was fourteen, and while I love them all, and appreciate them, there is a part of me that still feels the chasm. It might take having my own family for me to feel whole.

But I’m a nothing, a nobody, and any girl deserves better right? I mean, people only love me because I’m a hockey player, right?

Jules doesn’t even like hockey players.

Does that mean she likes me for who I am?

What the hell am I saying? We’re friends. Friends with benefits, but still. Just friends.

“You want to stay for dinner?” Jaclyn asks. “I made a ton of food.”

While that sounds like a great idea, I say, “No, I have to go, but thanks anyway.”

She goes up on her toes and gives me a hug. “Thanks for babysitting, and bring her by sometime.”

“Bring who by?”

“Whoever you bought that antique table for.”

My head rears back. “What the…” I bite back the curse since the kids are within earshot.

Jaclyn’s laugh fills the air. “You’re in the ‘burbs, bro. Rumor spreads fast around these parts.”

I grumble curses under my breath and head back to pick up Jules’ table. I load it into my Jeep, tie it down as best as I can, and head straight to Jules’ place. I can’t fucking wait to see the look on her face when she sees this beauty. I bet I can even guess where she’ll put it.

I reach her place, park behind her car in the driveway and grab the table from the back. Without even noticing the neighbors or anything going on around me, I head to her front door. I have a key, but I’m not about to use it. Instead I knock, and my face falls when a man opens the door.

“Oh, hi,” I say, completely thrown off to find some guy answering. The man stands there, gawking at me, and I feel like a goddamn idiot for showing up at her place unannounced. “Um, is Jules home?” I glance over my shoulder and see the cars lining the road. What the hell is going on?

“Jules,” the man calls out, still staring at me with wide-eyed recognition. Jules comes rushing around the corner, her ponytail bouncing, and the gentleman pulls her into his arms. A rush of jealousy I have no right to feel zings through me. “You have some explaining to do, dear daughter.”

I relax. This is her father. Oh, shit. This is her father, and it’s Sunday. I walked straight into a family dinner. I stand a little straighter.

“I should go,” I say quickly and spin.

“Wait,” Jules says, and I turn back around. “What do you have?” Her eyes narrow in on the table.

“I… uh.” I lift it for her to see. “I saw this at a yard sale this afternoon. I thought you’d—”

“I love it,” she says, her gaze lifting to mine, and Jesus fuck, the genuine gratitude in her big brown eyes is like a fist to the gut.

“I thought you might. That’s why I grabbed it. You love restoring old things, so…”

Okay, stop rambling, dude.

She runs her hand over the table top, her eyes full of admiration. “You actually picked this up for me?”

I shrug like it’s no big deal, and it’s not. We’re friends. And friends buy each other things. Right? There was that time I purchased a ball cap for Kane when I was getting one for myself. Same deal.

She blinks up at me. “I don’t know what to say.”

“I do,” her father says from behind.

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