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“Sure,” Coulton said good-naturedly. “How do you want us?”
McKenna moved them all to one side of the table, Preston, Coulton, Blake, and Erika sitting together, as Tank and his two dates stood behind them, the women hanging on Tank, who was grinning from ear to ear.
God only knew how McKenna was going to caption that photo. She thanked them all after snapping a few pics, shooting sideways glances at Tank, who was kissing Lara as Emily playfully toyed with his bowtie, apparently waiting for her turn for some hardcore PDA.
“Um…okay, then,” McKenna said, adjusting her glasses again. “I need to keep working the room.”
She walked away, casting a couple of looks over her shoulder.
“She seems like a nice girl,” Erika said.
Blake nodded. “She is.” Turning his attention to Coulton and Preston, he added, “One of you should ask her out.”
Coulton shook his head. “Not my type.”
Erika waited for him to expound on that, but he didn’t. When Blake didn’t press, it was obvious he agreed, leaving her to wonder what kind of woman would catch Coulton’s eye. Given his gentle disposition, she definitely thought McKenna, who seemed very sweet, if just a tiny bit awkward, might be perfect for him.
Preston also rejected the idea. “I’ve already met my perfect woman.”
Blake rolled his eyes. “Jesus, man. Seriously?”
Erika frowned. “Did I miss something?”
Preston sighed. “I went to a holiday kickoff party in Philly a couple weekends ago with Elio. Met this woman, Chelsea.” Preston smiled as he said her name, like it was the greatest word ever spoken. “We really connected. Spent the whole night talking and dancing and…”
He tried to let his silence fill in the blanks, but Tank couldn’t resist joining the conversation. “And fucking.”
Preston scowled. “Fucking isn’t the word I’d use.”
“Aw, jeez, Romeo,” Coulton mumbled.
Erika giggled. Preston was the team romantic, the guy seriously in love with the concept of love. Obviously, he took exception to Tank’s description because if Preston was as enamored of the woman as he appeared, he would never use such a coarse word.
“So you and Chelsea are dating? Going to do a long-distance relationship between Philadelphia and Baltimore?” Erika asked, wondering why the woman wasn’t here, if that was the case.
Preston shook his head. “No. She left.”
“Left?”
“The country. She flew to Paris to work in a famous design house. She’s in fashion,” Preston added.
“Wow. Cool job,” Erika murmured.
“Basically,” Tank said, placing his hand on Preston’s shoulder and giving it a squeeze, “our Romeo here is brokenhearted because his dream woman moved halfway across the world right after their one-night stand.”
“Oh no. I’m sorry, Preston.”
Preston took a swig of his beer, staring at the nearly empty bottle a second before tipping it back and draining it. “If it’s meant to be, it’ll be.”
“Not trying long-distance like Erika suggested?” Blake asked.
“No. Not at all. It’s just…she’s my soul mate. I know it. So I have to have faith that fate will bring her back to me.”
“Like a serendipity thing?” Erika asked.
Preston shrugged. “I know it sounds crazy. It’s just…Chelsea was…”
“I think it sounds wonderful,” she reassured him, even though she feared Preston might be facing heartbreak somewhere down the line.
