“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.
