Page 66 of Rematch
It didn’t matter to him which word she used. He knew they were all going to suck.
“Platonic,” she finally landed on.
Yep. It sucked.
Preston considered pushing the issue, but in the end, he realized the best thing he could do, for now, was respect her wishes.
While the two of them still shared that powerful connection he’d felt the moment he met her, what they didn’t possess was a long history or any real time spent together.
So, Preston was going to have to give her that. Going to have to put his desires on the back burner while he gave Chelsea a chance to get to know him.
“Okay,” he said, relieved that he’d landed on the right answer when she gave him a genuine smile, pleased he wasn’t fighting her.
“We owe it to Lennon to take things slow, to navigate our way through being parents together,” he added. “But, Chelsea, that doesn’t mean I’m giving up on us. I’m just postponing the inevitable until you figure out what I already know.”
She frowned. “What’s that?”
“This thing between us?” he replied, taking her hand in his, lifting it to his lips so that he could kiss her palm. “It’s serendipity.”
Chapter Ten
“I can’t believe this!” Ethan was literally bouncing on their way into the hockey arena. “I mean, getting you both here at the same time is pretty much a dream come true, but the fact we’re sitting in the team’s box. I’m more excited than Thor at a two-for-one sale on hammers.”
She and Allyson laughed, and while she didn’t admit it, Chelsea felt exactly the same way. And not just because she was a pretty big fan of hockey these days but because she would finally get to see Preston play in person.
Of course, it didn’t hurt that the entire arena was buzzing, fans of the sport happy to be there to cheer on the home team. She’d promised to buy her dad some sort of Stingrays souvenir from the gift shop, so she made a mental note to check it out before they left.
Preston had texted several times today to make sure she was still coming and to give her instructions on how to get to the box. Then he’d gone the extra mile and set them up with valet parking, yet another reason Ethan was practically coming apart at the seams.
As a true Stingrays fan, Ethan typically managed to attend at least one home game a month. He and Allyson had used the center-ice tickets a couple weeks earlier, but Chelsea had opted to stay home, foolishly thinking that might help her maintain a friendly yet platonic distance from Preston.
That idea had failed spectacularly. And she wasn’t mad about it.
It had been seventeen days since Preston walked back into her life.
Seventeen amazing, glorious, spectacular days since he’d walked into the bakery and effectively flipped her entire world on its head. Or maybe her world had been on its head prior to him, and his arrival had tipped her right-side up again.
Preston hadn’t lied about wanting to be a part of Lennon’s life. The two of them had created a shared, color-coded spreadsheet on Google, where they each filled in their work schedules. Preston’s schedule was highlighted in green, hers in yellow. From there, they filled in the blanks with “family dates,” all marked in blue. With the exception of two multiday road trips, Preston had found time, even if it was just a few minutes, to see Lennon on thirteen of those seventeen days. And he never failed to FaceTime from the road to check in and get some screen time with his little man.
On days where they had lots of time to spend together, they typically hung out at Preston’s condo. Whenever it was just the three of them, he took over practically all of their son’s care, feeding him, changing his diapers, singing silly songs to him, and holding him in front of the aquarium, so Lennon—who was now obsessed with fish—could watch them swim.
Even better, Preston took care of her, something no one had done since…well…since she was a child. He fed her, watched her crappy reality shows with her, and even encouraged her on two occasions, after sleepless nights with Lennon, to take naps in the guest room. She felt more well rested than she had since their baby was born.
She’d been too close to the end of her rope prior to his arrival in their life, her exhaustion and stress off the charts. Between her mother’s criticisms, Rick’s unexpected—and unwanted—kiss, and the lack of sleep, she’d been on the verge of a complete meltdown.
Preston showing up should have been the tipping point.
But it wasn’t.
That wasn’t saying she hadn’t initially been stressed out and worried about what his presence in Lennon’s life would mean, but those emotions had never really become full-blown. Because of that magical something the man possessed that set her at ease…even when he was the one freaking her out. Preston calmed her down, quieted all the noise in her head. She’d noticed that ability the first night they met, thinking perhaps she’d imagined it, or it had been a result of the wine, and then later, the super-hot sex.
For the past seventeen days, there had been very little wine and no sex, and the man still had his finger on her volume button, turning down the racket until every bad thought simply evaporated in the silence that remained.
As they walked into the arena, Ethan gave Chelsea a rundown on how different this experience and the one two weeks ago were from his usual trips to the games. He’d also supplied the jersey she was currently wearing. She, of course, was adorned in Preston’s number and name, the jersey practically hanging to her knees. Allyson, meanwhile, had bought her own a couple of weeks ago, choosing one based solely on the jersey number—sixty-nine.
Allyson was forever destined to have the sense of humor of a thirteen-year-old boy.
Chelsea couldn’t help but be touched by all the effort Preston had gone to tonight to make it a special occasion for her and her friends.
