That’s what Wingmen Inc. is about. What if you could study a playbook for dating? We have rules for every type of relationship scenario, and our process works. Basically, we created a dating version of Minority Report. We see the “dating disaster” before it happens and make amendments accordingly.
Nothing angsty about it. I’m not a sad, lonely bastard in need of therapy because my parents ignored me when I was young—though they did, and probably still would have if they hadn’t died in a freak plane crash when I was seven.
My heart wasn’t broken by the girl next door who finally noticed me and then left me for my best friend. Please. Have you seen me?
And, no, I’m not trying to make up for things in small packages. I think it’s already been established that all’s well in the mechanics department.
I’m rich.
I’m brilliant—ask my professors.
I get more ass than even a man with my appetite can keep up with.
And I’m basically the modern-day Superman, saving women from themselves while my best friend, Lex, plays sidekick.
Before you ask—yes. It sucks. I’m pissed I can’t play in the NFL. But when one can’t play . . . one teaches.
And I was more than just a football player.
I was the player.
Of sports.
And . . . of women.
The best of them all.
So who better to teach women how not to get played than an actual player?
Exactly.
It’s not like I’ve turned over a new leaf; I’ve just learned to use both sides. Brilliant? Absolutely.
“Shit.” I nearly ran into the small Corolla in front of me as Gabi’s ringtone blared over my speakers.
“Yes?” I answered. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“I’m not your client, Ian,” Gabi shouted. “Cut with the smooth-talking love coach voice. You promised!”
“I did.” What the hell did I promise? Movie night? That’s what I thought I promised. The light turned green. My thoughts were still blank. A horn blared behind me, and I took off.
“You forgot, didn’t you?”
“About our date tonight?” I laughed. “Of course not.”
“Sometimes I wonder why we’re friends.”
“Because you like to stare at me when I sleep?”
“One time, Ian!” She growled out a loud curse. “You’re lucky I’m forgiving. I’m having a welcome party for my two new roommates, and you were supposed to bring the chips and dip. And the party started a half hour ago.”
So much for my dry cleaning.
“Was this party on my calendar?”
“You and your freaking calendar!” she shouted. “Sorry that I don’t have time to log into Gmail and plug it in so that you can make time for me.”
“It would be a lot easier on Lex if you did.”
“You know Lex is more your bitch than your friend these days?”
“Harsh,” I coughed. “You better hope I don’t tell him that.”
She fell silent. Because that was what she did when we talked about Lex. She pretended she wasn’t planning on setting his bed on fire with him in it, and I pretended not to notice that even when they were fighting, it seemed like she was still clamoring for his attention, no matter how negative.
But we both knew the elephant was standing in the room with his face plastered all the hell over it.
I sighed. “Sorry, Gabs. I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes, alright?”
“You better,” she grumbled. Then the line went dead.
My music started up again as I quickly pulled into the closest grocery store parking lot and ran like hell to grab the snacks I’d promised. The busier I got, the worse my memory became, which was why I had a calendar and an online schedule that even my professors knew how to access just in case I wasn’t in class, since I was a TA. I was an A student; I’d trained them to keep up with my schedule well, and it was an added bonus when I could teach their classes while they did more important things.
I grabbed all the chips and dip I could find that promised lots of empty calories, then groaned when I noticed only one checker was open and the guy in front of me had ten coupons.
I was ready to pay for his groceries if the dude would just let me go first.
“I can help you over here, sir,” a perky voice said to my right.
A slow smile spread across my face as I turned. “Oh wow, thank you.”
The girl blushed and flicked on the little light at her check stand.
“Hmm, going to a party?” The scanner beeped as she ran each item through.
“For my sister. Well, she’s basically my sister. And I’m the tool that forgot to bring snacks.”
“You don’t seem like a tool to me.” Her voice was throaty as she arched her eyebrows.
“Well, maybe you should tell her that, which would save me from having to grovel . . .”
Her eyes lit up. “I get off in ten minutes.”
“Aw, it would only take me five. Tops.”
“What?”
“Your top.” I pointed to her plain white shirt. “Looks gorgeous with your skin tone.”
Her eyes dilated right before me.
Sometimes, it was just too easy.
CHAPTER THREE
“Finally,” Gabi shouted as she opened the door and jerked the groceries out of my hand in one fell swoop. “I thought you said you fifteen minutes.”