Page 14 of Rematch
“Were there more than those two?”
Preston linked his fingers, cracking his knuckles. “I’m just getting started. My next girlfriend, Becca, came along a couple years after Julie. We dated for ten months, until her ex came back on the scene, and she realized she was still in love with him.”
“Oh no. That sucks.”
He lifted one shoulder casually. He’d been equal parts pissed and hurt at the time, but he was over it now. “After Becca, I dated a great girl, Jenn, for a year. We had a ton in common and I really thought she was the one…right up until she came out of the closet.”
Her eyes widened. “No way!”
“My friends still give me shit about that one. Say I should have known, even though none of them did.”
She grimaced. “Anyone else?”
“A few short-term deals that never jumped the line from casual to serious. It’s been a pretty long, painful dry spell since Jenn. Which sucks, because the dating game is fucking brutal.”
“You can say that again.” She reached out to take his hand, giving it a squeeze. “I respect your resilience because that’s quite a history.”
Preston lifted her hand, kissing it. “I’m starting to think it’s not so bad, because if any of those relationships had worked out, I wouldn’t be sitting here with you.” He wiggled his eyebrows, laying on the charm.
She snorted—actually snorted. Goddamn, she was adorable. “Again with the smooth lines. You should write a book since you’re such an expert. You can call it Love Lines from a Hopeless Romantic.”
He laughed. “Maybe I will.”
“But I guess I understand the hopeless romantic description better now.”
Preston shrugged. “I haven’t thrown in the towel yet.”
“I admire your optimism. I wish I could be half as positive as you. I’ve spent the past six months in a complete downhill spiral. Allyson started calling me Eeyore after a couple months of listening to me bitch and moan about how I’d never meet anyone else and was destined to live the rest of my life alone.”
Now it was Preston’s turn to roll his eyes. “Never gonna happen. You’re beautiful and funny, and despite the fact you’re clumsy, I have no doubt you’re going to meet a guy who’s perfect for you.”
“Clumsy?”
“I wasn’t the one who tangled you in my Christmas lights,” he teased.
She grumbled but didn’t defend herself. Instead, she did something much better and sweeter. “Thank you for hanging out with me tonight,” she whispered. “I can’t tell you what the last couple of hours have meant to me. My confidence has been shaky at best since June. Tonight…with you…well…”
She didn’t finish that thought with words.
Rather, she leaned toward him and let her lips tell him in a different, hotter way.
He pulled her toward him, wrapping her in his embrace, refusing to let this kiss end too soon.
Kissing her was a heady thing. She hummed against his mouth, the heat between them rising until he was tempted to rip off these damn sweaters—hers and his.
He wasn’t sure how many minutes—or maybe hours—they sat there, simply kissing. As they’d talked, he’d been vaguely aware of the noise surrounding them outside this room…the music, the loud voices, the laughter. All of that vanished as they kissed, his entire universe whittled down to this tiny space, this woman, this kiss.
When they parted, she gave him a breathy, giddy laugh, and he couldn’t resist pulling her into his arms, hugging her tightly.
Then, she gave him what he’d been wanting all night.
“Chelsea,” she whispered in his ear.
He was overwhelmed by the desire to keep her in his arms. Then he realized the best way to accomplish that. “Dance with me, Chelsea.”
He was pleased when she stood immediately.
When Preston first arrived, Elio had met him at the door, warning him that Gianna had lost her mind when it came to organizing and decorating for the evening. Then he proceeded to tell him how he and his brothers and cousins had spent the better part of the day moving furniture. Apparently, the entire dining room suite was in the garage for the evening because Gianna insisted they needed a proper dance floor.
