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She’s Kit’s ex. She’s off-limits, and she’s her own person who can make her own decisions, but I think about some guy’s hands all over her, and I want to break something.
“I want to be like you.” “Devastatingly handsome?” She grins wider. “No, a player. Hayden, I want you to teach me to be a player.”
His mouth slides into a lazy, flirty smile. “You want flowers, Darcy? I’ll buy you flowers.”
“You know what I mean. I want to get all dressed up, go to a nice restaurant, be told I look pretty, and then go home and have sex against a wall.”
Hazel and Pippa exchange another one of those weighted glances. Rory looks at Hayden, and there’s something in his eyes that I can’t read either. Jamie just stares at Pippa like she’s a snack he wants to eat.
She chose Kit over me, after all. If she wanted me, wouldn’t she have made a move at some point in the last eight years?
“She’s not my type,” I lie. “I like tall, dark hair, and curvy.” That’s the type of woman I date, but it’s not my type. My type is Darcy Andersen.
“Don’t settle for anything less than a guy who worships the ground you walk on.” Like me, the voice in my head says, but I ignore it.
“Eight.” He looks away, folding his arms over his chest. “One for each year we’ve been friends.”
