“No darts.” I swear I played darts with one other guy once and the man has boycotted the game for life. “You won. I’m all yours. I think you can let it go.” “Never,” he says, but he’s smiling. “It wasn’t ever really a competition, you know? You own my heart.” “Right back at ya, hot stuff.” His eyes crinkle at the corner and his mouth twists into a playful smirk. “But I still fucking hate darts.”
