Page 67 of Rematch
“Here we are,” Allyson announced when they found the box. “I cannot believe we’ve got box seats.” Allyson, who was usually the life of every party, was a bit subdued tonight. Not because she didn’t share their enthusiasm but because she was completely overwhelmed. “I’m pretty sure every member of my family is watching this game tonight. My cousin Alan said he’d try to get a picture if he sees us on TV.”
Chelsea had been okay until they got to the box, but as they entered, she felt her nerves kicking in. She hadn’t fully thought through the implications of sharing the space with family and friends of Preston’s teammates. What was she supposed to say if someone asked her who she was there to see? Did she refer to Preston as a friend or…
God knew she wasn’t introducing herself as his baby mama.
As they stepped in, Ethan’s eyes nearly bugged out at the array of snacks and beverages—all free—set up along the back wall. “Do you know how much a beer costs at the concession stand?” he murmured.
Chelsea rolled her eyes, wondering if he was going to spend the entire night breaking down every difference between attending the game as a random person versus as a VIP, which is what they definitely felt like.
The box wasn’t overly crowded. Preston had mentioned there were a handful of spouses/girlfriends/parents who came to every home game, while the rest attended when their schedules allowed. There were six other people already in the box, all standing together, chatting as they drank beer or wine. Their arrival didn’t go unnoticed, and two women peeled away from the group to greet them.
“Hey,” an attractive woman said. “I’m Erika Nelson, and this is Ainsley Hall. Would one of you happen to be Chelsea?”
Chelsea lifted her hand. “That’s me.”
Erika smiled widely. “Preston texted me this afternoon to say you and your friends were coming. You must be Ethan and Allyson.”
Everyone shook hands, greeting each other amiably.
“Are you here to root for someone in particular?” Ethan asked Erika.
“Blake Wright is my boyfriend, and Ainsley’s dating the goalie, Coulton Moore.”
Ethan, true to character, gushed about how talented both players were, even turning around and pointing with both thumbs to show Ainsley that he—like her—was wearing Moore’s jersey. “We match!”
Given she’d only watched a half dozen games, Chelsea was grateful Ethan was there to carry the hockey portion of tonight’s conversations. Because she had basically nothing to contribute. She listened politely as they chatted about the upcoming game, who was benched due to injuries, who they expected to see on the starting lineup, and how much they all hated Florida—tonight’s competitor.
Allyson asked if there were assigned seats in the box, and Erika told them they were welcome to sit wherever they liked. She even suggested, since it was their first time, that they take the first row of the box so they had a great view.
Ethan loved that offer enough that he quickly walked down to claim a spot, waving Allyson down to point out something of interest on the ice.
Chelsea started to follow, but Erika stopped her. “I’m so glad to finally get to meet you, Chelsea.”
She smiled, even though she got hung up on the word finally. She and Preston had only reconnected a little over two weeks ago, so finally felt like a strange word. To make matters worse, Chelsea had never heard Erika’s or Ainsley’s names. Hell, she only vaguely recalled Preston mentioning Blake and Coulton in passing. Considering most of their conversations centered around Lennon—because Preston was as obsessed with watching their baby as she was—that wasn’t exactly surprising.
“Blake told me about your son, and he showed me a few of the pictures Preston shared. Lennon, right?” Erika asked.
Chelsea really was a million miles behind. “That’s right.”
“Coulton has showed me nothing, dammit.” Ainsley asked to see a picture, oohing and aahing over Lennon’s undeniable cuteness. The more the two women talked about and gushed over Lennon, the more relaxed Chelsea began to feel.
Allyson left Ethan hanging by the railing of the box to grab drinks. “You want a glass of wine, Chels?”
She requested red, like Erika was drinking. Ainsley, meanwhile, was drinking a beer.
“So how long have you been dating Blake?” Chelsea was ready to change the conversation to something other than herself.
“Officially? Only a few weeks, but we’ve known each other for years. Blake and I live across the hall from each other. Or, I guess I should say did.”
“Did?”
Ainsley answered for Erika. “Blake and Erika moved in together a couple weeks ago.”
“I lost the coin flip,” Erika joked, “so now all my stuff is at Blake’s, and I’m just waiting for my lease to run out before we add my name to his. It works out because it makes things easier for Corky.”
“Who’s Corky?”
“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.
