The Wingman (Vancouver Storm, #3)

by Stephanie Archer

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.

“We should get going.” I look away and slip a pair of earrings on. Silly Darcy, swooning over a friend who’s miles out of my league.

“Eight.” He looks away, folding his arms over his chest. “One for each year we’ve been friends.”

“You want to know why I don’t touch you?” His blue eyes grow a shade darker. “Because if I start, I won’t stop.”