Page 32 of Rematch (Stingrays Hockey #3)

Allyson and Ethan high-fived as Chelsea giggled, and then they waited as the valet retrieved their car.

Chelsea was the designated driver, only having the one glass of wine before the game started.

She’d never been a big drinker, and she was even less of one now, since the idea of caring for a crying baby with a hangover sounded about as much fun as weeding a garden full of poison ivy.

Padraig waved to Chelsea when she and her friends walked into Pat’s Pub. She led them over to the bar.

“Hey, Chelsea. I was wondering if I was going to see you again,” he said.

She introduced him to her friends, then Padraig gestured to a long table near the rear of the pub. “I set up a place for the Rays and fans back there.”

“They always come here after wins?” Ethan asked.

Padraig shook his head. “Not always. Sometimes they come after they lose too,” he replied with a grin.

“And they always give me a heads-up. Tank texted as soon as they got back to the locker room. You’re welcome to grab a seat.

The groupies arrived early and grabbed a spot next to the team’s table. ”

“Puck bunnies?” Allyson asked, mainly because she’d just learned the term and, for some reason, it amused her.

Padraig chuckled. “Yeah.”

Chelsea couldn’t help but notice that all the people currently waiting at the table next to the reserved one were female.

Unfortunately, Erika and Ainsley weren’t included in the group.

Neither had indicated they were coming, so Chelsea assumed they were doing some private celebrating with their boyfriends.

She couldn’t help but wish the same were true of her and Preston. Not that their private celebrating would include any of the fun stuff, since she’d insisted they needed to maintain a platonic relationship.

Being a responsible adult really sucked.

“What are you drinking?” Padraig asked.

Ethan ordered a pitcher of Pbr, and they headed back to the table. They claimed the end of the table. The puck bunnies checked them out as they sat down, but their attention didn’t last long, since it was obvious they didn’t view them as a threat.

Chelsea felt like a slouch in her oversized Rays jersey.

The other women all looked like they were headed out for a night of clubbing, in their short skirts, low-cut dresses, and ridiculously high heels.

They’d also taken special pains with their hair and makeup, all of them looking like they’d sprung from the glossy pages of a fashion magazine.

That was when she realized it wasn’t just Lennon holding her back from Preston.

Rick had done a number on her self-esteem when he’d skipped their wedding, riding off into the sunset with someone else, however briefly. Someone tall and willowy and beautiful. How could she expect to hold Preston’s attention when he was surrounded by women who looked like this all the time?

Chelsea toyed uncomfortably with her ponytail and considered pulling the band out.

“Those women wish they were half as gorgeous as you,” Allyson murmured, leaning close enough that no one could hear except her and Ethan. “Twenty bucks says Preston only has eyes for you when he gets here.”

Chelsea gave her friend a grateful grin. “You have to say that. You’re my bestie.”

“Even if I wasn’t, it would still be true. Look how hard they have to try. You realize you have something they don’t, right?”

“Do I want to know what that is?” Chelsea asked.

“Natural beauty.”

“Thanks, Ally.” She smiled, then wrapped her arm around Allyson’s shoulders. “I needed to hear that.”

“Speaking of other things you need to hear,” Ethan starting, leaning closer.

“I know you’ve been holding yourself back from Preston, and I understand why.

But, Cupcake, you sacrificing your own happiness isn’t going to help Lennon.

He might just be a baby, but I read an article that said they can sense the emotions of their caregivers. It impacts his emotional development.”

“When do you have time to read all this stuff?” she asked.

Ethan chuckled. “I’m not changing diapers and doing midnight feedings, so it frees up a few hours.”

“So what are you saying?”

“I’m saying,” he stressed, “that I want my godson to be surrounded by happiness and love. If you’re stressed or scared or lonely, there’s a good chance he’ll pick up on it.”

“Wow. Way to go for the jugular,” she muttered.

“You deserve to be loved, Chels,” Allyson added. “Don’t be so quick to dismiss Preston because you’re afraid he’ll hurt you like Rick did.”

Chelsea was grateful for their advice. “I’ll think about everything you said. Promise.”

Padraig delivered their pitcher as more fans drifted in. Chelsea recognized a few of them from the box, the new arrivals joining their table. They were much nicer than the puck bunnies. Given the Stingrays’ win, everyone was in a festive mood, recounting some of the more exciting parts of the game.

When Preston and several of his teammates arrived, the pub cheered. Preston was stopped every few steps by fans, slapping him on the back and congratulating him on the game-winning goal. Throughout it all, he kept looking back at her, smiling.

He’d almost reached their table when he was intercepted by one of the gorgeous puck bunnies who’d dismissed Chelsea and her friends earlier.

“You were amazing tonight, Preston,” the woman said, plastering herself to his side.

“Thanks, Mindy.”

God, Preston knew the woman’s name. Had the two of them?—

Chelsea shut down that line of thought.

“Let me buy you a drink and we’ll celebrate,” Mindy offered.

Chelsea had heard the expression bedroom eyes , but she’d never actually seen them. Mindy practically radiated sex, and as much as Chelsea wanted to hate the woman, she couldn’t deny she was beautiful.

“No thanks,” Preston said, disentangling himself from Mindy with practiced ease. “I’m celebrating with my girl tonight.” He was looking straight at Chelsea, her heart doing cartwheels at the way he called her my girl .

She could’ve pointed out that wasn’t entirely accurate, but she didn’t want to. At. All. Because it sounded too fucking good.

Allyson shoulder-bumped her. “Told you so.”

Finally, Preston made it all the way to her. He didn’t say anything. Instead, he tugged Chelsea up and into his arms, giving her a big hug before pulling away slightly, cupping her cheeks, and kissing her on her forehead.

“God, you look pretty tonight.”

She practically melted when he spun her around, her back pressed tight to his chest, his muscular arms enclosing her in a way that made her feel safe and horny all at the same time.

“Lucas, this is Chelsea,” he said to one of his teammates. Then he pointed to Allyson and Ethan, who stood as he introduced them.

“Nice to meet you,” Lucas said to her, before turning to Allyson and giving her a sexy grin that was pure flirtation. “Nice jersey.”

Allyson leaned closer, as if imparting a secret. “Thanks. I picked it because of the number.” Then she backed up that announcement by wiggling her eyebrows in an outrageously hubba-hubba way, her silliness catching Lucas off guard.

Preston laughed loudly, and Ethan groaned.

Chelsea and Allyson looked at both men, confused.

Ethan gestured to Lucas. “That’s his jersey.”

“Oh!” Allyson replied with a shameless laugh. “Lucky you. Did you pick it because it had some deep, personal meaning for you?”

Lucas shook his head, his interest piqued rather than deterred, then he moved closer to Allyson. “Can I buy you a beer?”

She nodded and mouthed “oh my God” to their group, when Lucas turned to walk to the bar, then she followed. Chelsea couldn’t help but agree, because Lucas was sex-on-a-stick hot.

Ethan snorted. “Didn’t take her long,” he observed.

“It never does,” Chelsea added.

“Allyson is hilarious,” Preston said, still chuckling. “Lucas might have his work cut out for him.”

Chelsea rested her hands on Preston’s arms, which were still looped around her waist. The petty part of her couldn’t resist sneaking a peek at the puck bunnies.

Mindy was obviously looking at her in a different light, possibly realizing she was too hasty in her dismissal, while the other women were staring at Allyson and Lucas with clear envy.

“Having fun?” Preston murmured in her ear.

She loved being held by him this way but she wanted to see him, so she twisted, delighted when he kept his hands on her waist. “You were incredible, Preston. And I’m now a believer. Hockey is the greatest sport.”

He gave her a kiss on the cheek. “I loved knowing you were there, in the stands watching me.”

She blushed, thrilled to her toes by his admission. That, paired with Erika’s insider information about Preston’s feelings for her, and Ethan and Allyson’s advice that she seek her own happiness as well as Lennon’s, meant Chelsea’s attraction—okay, horniness—was currently off the charts.

Lifting on her tiptoes, she gave him an impulsive kiss.

She meant for it to be quick, but Preston wasn’t just fast on the ice.

His grip on her tightened as he extended the kiss, drawing it out.

His tongue swiped her lower lip, and she obliged by opening her mouth.

Lifting her hands to his shoulders, she pressed her body firmly against his, recalling the way he’d caged her beneath him on the couch.

While Chelsea rarely drank enough alcohol to get drunk, the same couldn’t be said for Preston’s drugging kisses. When he wasn’t kissing her, her brain functioned just fine. But the second his lips landed on hers, she was wasted, all reasonable thoughts drowned in lust and desire.

Preston broke the kiss, his forehead pressed to hers. “I’m trying to play by your rules, Joy, but it’s not fucking easy.”