“You seeing anyone, then?”
“Nope, not at the moment.” This was the first “event” she’d been to without Pisa at her side in the last while, and she was a little wigged out. Normally Pisa handled things for her, but she couldn’t exactly drag a friend to an engagement party that she wasn’t invited to. So they’d come up with a plan to make Chelsea comfortable without divulging her issues: She’d pretend to be on the lookout for a new guy and get introduced to all of them right away. Then, no one would be a stranger. Her mind and body wouldn’t freak out on her.
Everything would be good.
So Chelsea put on her cheeriest grin. “I am an extremely single mamacita. You gonna introduce me to a bunch of eligible guys that you’ve picked out as groomsmen?”
“Maaaybe,” Gretchen said, trying to hide her eagerness. “You cool with that?”
“Only if they’re hot and hold decent jobs. I make artisan soaps for a living. One of us has to bring in money.” She winked. “But . . . let’s make sure we don’t bring up the derby, all right?”
“Oooo, is derby a big nasty secret now? I always thought it was cool.”
“You should play,” Chelsea offered. “It’s very therapeutic to shoulder-bash someone off the track.”
“I think I’ll pass. I’m afraid of pain.” Gretchen wrinkled her nose. “So no derby mentions.”
“If we can avoid it. It tends to scare men off. They either think we’re strippers on wheels or they hate that it takes up so much time. Pisa’s last boyfriend made her choose between him and derby.”
Gretchen’s red brows rose over her glasses. “And?”
“And I’m told he sucked in bed anyhow.” Chelsea shrugged. “I figure it’s not worth the hassle when meeting people. If anyone wants to know about me, I make soaps and love movies.”
Gretchen snickered. “And clocking bitches, but I guess we’ll keep that on the down-low.”
“Yes ma’am.” Chelsea grinned and tucked her hand into Gretchen’s arm. “So show me all these eligible men.”
*
A short time later, she’d met everyone in the wedding party. There was Hunter, the groom, and the man Gretchen spent most of her time staring at adoringly and occasionally grabbing his ass. He was pretty scarred up, but Gretchen always loved a good story, and Chelsea guessed he had an interesting one. He seemed to adore Gretch, which made him a prince in Chelsea’s eyes.
There was Edie, who was kind of surly, and her sister, Bianca, who seemed nice enough but wasn’t interested in chatting with the women. Bianca had already found herself a man and latched on to him. One of those girls, Chelsea supposed, who thought all women were competition. In Chelsea’s eyes, they weren’t competition unless they were on the track.
There were the other bridesmaids—Greer, an old buddy and ex-roomie from the time she and Gretchen had a third roommate. Audrey, Gretchen’s pregnant and glowing sister. Taylor, their college buddy and a computer nerd who’d rather be at a laptop instead of at a party, and Kat, Gretchen’s loudmouth literary agent. She’d met most of them before, though it had been a few years. Nothing like a wedding to bring old friends back together. Actually, for all Chelsea knew, they were all hanging out every weekend while she was slamming into people at the most recent derby bout.
Chelsea was the friend who had drifted away, not Gretchen.