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.”
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.
