Page 31 of Rematch (Stingrays Hockey #3)

“Blake and I found a puppy outside our building in the fall, and we decided to co-parent her. We credit her for encouraging us to change our status from friends and neighbors to boyfriend/girlfriend.” Erika pulled her phone out as she spoke, her actions prompting Ainsley to roll her eyes good-naturedly.

“She probably has more pictures of her dog on her phone than you do of Lennon. And Blake has more than her ,” Ainsley joked.

Erika shoulder-bumped the other woman, but it was clear they were friendly enough that the teasing rolled right off. Chelsea liked both women very much, and she appreciated the efforts they were taking to make sure she felt welcome.

“Oh my God. That is the sweetest dog ever,” Chelsea gushed sincerely, grinning at how adorable the tiny little thing was, nestled in Blake’s arms.

“Right? I swear they should put her picture on cans of dog food,” Erika said. “And Lennon should be the next Gerber baby.”

They all laughed. Allyson handed Chelsea a glass of wine, then lifted the two cans of beer she got for her and Ethan.

“Going to go deliver this. Something tells me I’m going to need ALL the beer tonight, because Ethan only has a million and twelve things he needs to tell me about the Stingrays and the arena.

Stupid me, I thought he’d covered it all the last time we came, but apparently he hasn’t even scratched the surface. ”

“Lift your can when it’s empty and we’ll keep the alcohol flowing,” Ainsley offered.

“You’re my girl,” Allyson said, giving Ainsley a sideways fist bump so she didn’t spill the beer before returning to Ethan.

“So no baby or dog pics on your phone?” Chelsea asked Ainsley.

“God, no. I’m in the same boat as Erika. Coulton and I are in the very beginning stages of our relationship. We haven’t even been an official item a month yet, and we only started living together at Thanksgiving.”

Chelsea tried—and failed—to school her expression because damn…who moved in together right as they started dating?

Ainsley smirked. “You can say what you’re thinking, because I know that’s hella fast. The shacking-up together thing was a combination of my necessity and Coulton’s relentlessness.”

“He decided she was the one and never looked back,” Erika said.

“It’s super-romantic. Blake was the same way.

Once he decided I was the one, there was no stopping him.

One minute, I’m living across the hall, the next, he’s smuggling all my clothes out and hanging them in his closet.

Preston’s ways are rubbing off on the rest of the guys. All except for?—”

Ainsley and Erika looked at each other, saying, “Tank,” in unison before cracking up. “Oh…and Victor,” Erika added.

Chelsea recalled Preston mentioning Tank and Victor, as well as her mom’s comments about professional athletes. “Preston mentioned there were a lot of women…”

“Puck bunnies,” Erika said, crinkling her nose. “The Rays have a fair amount of female groupies who hover around the fringes, hoping to catch their eye. Luckily, our guys don’t pay them any attention anymore.”

Chelsea got the sense she was included in that “our guys” comment. Then something else Erika said came back to her. “What did you mean, when you said Preston’s rubbing off on Blake and Coulton?”

“The guys seem to be following Preston’s lead. Coulton met Ainsley and never questioned from that day on that she was the one for him. You know that all the guys call Preston ‘Romeo’, right?” Erika asked.

Chelsea nodded. He’d confided that their first night together. “He calls himself a hopeless romantic.”

“Not so hopeless anymore,” Erika said. “Now that he’s finally found you again.”

Again with the word finally . Chelsea didn’t know how to respond to that. “I’m not sure I follow.”

Erika exchanged an uncomfortable glance with Ainsley. “Um…I’ve already had two glasses of wine tonight. Maybe I’ve spoken out of turn.”

She appeared sober as a stone.

“What did you mean when you said it was ‘finally’ nice to meet me?” Chelsea’s curiosity was getting the better of her.

Erika sighed. “Now I know I’ve said too much.”

Ainsley smirked. “Well, it’s too late now.

When Coulton and I started going out, he filled me in on all his teammates, telling me little things about them and their lives.

He told me Preston had met the woman of his dreams at a holiday party last Christmas, and that he’d been hung up on her ever since. That was you, right?”

Chelsea nodded, somewhat dumbfounded. “Hung up on me?”

Erika pursed her lips, then apparently decided there was no point in shutting up now. “He hasn’t gone out with anyone in a year. Not since he met you.”

Chelsea’s mouth fell open, shock kicking in. Preston had sort of alluded to that…she supposed. Telling her he’d missed her, that he thought about her all the time. But to eschew all women when she knew he had an abundance to entertain himself with? That couldn’t be true.

Could it?

“Damn. As if I needed another reason to be a Preston Jacobson fan.”

Chelsea turned around, surprised to discover Ethan and Allyson standing behind them. They’d clearly heard the last part of the conversation, hence Ethan’s comment.

Allyson grinned sheepishly at Ainsley, waving her empty beer can. “First one went down way too fast. Thought you might judge me.”

Ainsley laughed. “I used to work in a dive bar. No judgment from me, I promise.”

“Preston didn’t want anyone after you,” Ethan said, his gaze locked with Chelsea’s. While Mom was still Team Rick, Ethan was all in on Preston. “And you were the same.”

Chelsea snorted. “I was trying to navigate my way in a new country, then I was pregnant, and then I was caring for a newborn. It’s not like I had loads of time to rock the dating scene.”

“And if you had?” Ethan’s brow rose, letting her know she still would have been obsessed with Preston, even if she hadn’t had his baby.

She pursed her lips because she hated lying.

Before anyone could say anything more, the announcer asked everyone to rise for the National Anthem. She, Allyson, and Ethan made their way to the front row, Ainsley and Erika claiming the seats right behind them in the second row.

Chelsea expected to be distracted by everything she just learned, but the second the announcer introduced Preston as part of the starting lineup, she was spellbound. Watching him in person was way better than on TV, and it was official—she was a hockey fan for life.

Ethan sat between her and Allyson, explaining the parts of the game they didn’t understand, and Chelsea was amused by Ainsley’s extremely colorful language whenever one of the Florida players did something she considered dirty.

The five of them took turns grabbing rounds for the others, while putting a serious dent in the snacks.

They cheered loudly when Blake scored a goal in the first period, groaned when Florida tied it up in the second, and lost their minds when Preston scored late in the third period, putting the Rays back in the lead.

By the time the final buzzer sounded, Chelsea was riding a high unlike anything she’d ever experienced.

As they rose from their seats, she hugged Erika and Ainsley, feeling like she’d just made two new friends.

They exchanged numbers so that the three of them could find a day to attend another game together.

Erika’s attendance was dependent on her work schedule.

She was an ER doctor, and Ainley was apprenticing to become a tattoo artist.

As they left the box, Chelsea’s phone pinged with an incoming text from Preston.

You guys want to join us at Pat’s to celebrate the win?

Chelsea glanced at the time, torn. It was only nine-thirty, and while she really, really wanted to see Preston, she also missed Lennon.

“Please say yes,” Ethan said over her shoulder, reading her text. “Lennon’s asleep.”

She sighed. “I know he is, but…” If tonight was like every night the past week, Lennon would wake up between midnight and one a.m. for a bottle, then go right back down, sleeping until five or six. It had been bliss.

“If you go, we can go,” Ethan said, gesturing to him and Allyson. “Without looking like stalker fans.”

Chelsea smirked. “There’s no hope you won’t look like a stalker. You’re already drooling at the prospect of hanging out with the Rays.”

“Cupcake,” he pleaded. “Do it for me, please? This is seriously a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

Chelsea laughed. “Are you ever going to outgrow peer pressure?”

“Never!” Ethan replied dramatically.

“Fine. But, for the record, I don’t think this is a once-in-a-lifetime thing.” Maybe that was a lofty statement, but Chelsea knew it was true. Preston was committed to Lennon, and by extension, her. Because he was an amazing guy, his kindness also extended to her friends.

Chelsea texted Preston back.

Sure. Meet you there?

Preston replied with a thumbs-up.

See you there in an hour.

She added her own thumbs-up to the thread, then texted her dad—there was no way she was texting Mom—to let him know she was having a drink with Ethan and Allyson and would be home later.

Dad said exactly what Ethan did: Lennon had been asleep for hours and they were perfectly capable of doing the midnight feeding. Then, bless him, he told her to stay out as long as she liked and to have some fun.

With the exception of that late dinner with Preston, Chelsea hadn’t gone out on her own at all since Lennon’s birth because all of her “dates” with Preston had included their son.

Slipping her phone back into her pocket, she gestured toward the parking lot. “Dad extended my curfew,” she joked. “So it looks like we’re moving the party.”