The Billionaire Takes a Bride

Hot tears formed in Chelsea’s eyes, and she blinked rapidly. “I’m going to miss you, too, Pisa Hit.” She squeezed her friend again. “We’ll see each other at Nationals, though, won’t we?”

“Absolutely.” Pisa lifted her bent arm and tapped her elbow. “I’m keeping this ready to dig into your chest.”

Chelsea giggled through her tears. “I’ll miss you.”

They hugged three more times before Pisa finally left. Chelsea waved her off. Then, she quietly shut the door to the apartment, locked the bolts, and stared dully at what was left of the furniture. She’d moved her soap-making supplies temporarily into Pisa’s room, set up on a folding table. She’d happily chattered to her buddy that she was closer to the kitchen in Pisa’s room, which would make things easier.

Lies. All lies, because she couldn’t hold her friend back from having a life. Pisa’s empty room nagged at Chelsea’s anxiety, and she closed the door and moved down the hall. As she went through the apartment, she turned the lights on. It was bright as the daylight outside in her bedroom, but it wasn’t enough.

It was too quiet. Too lonely.

She was too alone.

She crawled into bed and pulled the sheets up. Practice was tomorrow night. She could last until then. And she could skate in Central Park tomorrow. Maybe she’d call Morning Whorey or Gilmore Hurls and see if they were interested in skating. Probably not, because she knew they had office jobs.

She was alone. Really really alone.

And when she was alone, the anxiety came back.

So she pulled out her phone and went through her contact list. Gretchen was shit at answering texts. Any of her derby friends would just talk about Pisa and right now she didn’t want to think about the loss of her friend. “Safety Date Sebastian” came up in her list, and on a whim, she texted him.

Chelsea: Hey, Safety Boy, are you going to the costume party this weekend?

Safety Date Sebastian: Kinda have to, don’t I? What with being a groomsman and all.

Chelsea: I see we are full of sarcasm today.

SDS: Sorry. Just not a big fan of parties. Kinda feel roped into this one.

Chelsea: I know how that feels! I’d rather not go at all, but Gretchen would never forgive.

SDS: Sounds like we are going to have a fine evening of clinging to the wall together.

Chelsea: Sounds like. I’m glad you are as antisocial as me.

SDS: We shall be two freakish wallflowers together.

She smiled. It didn’t help the ache of loneliness go away, or the fear of being by herself, but it was nice to know someone else was out there, listening.

Chapter Six

“Is . . . that a black eye or part of your costume?” Sebastian stared as a familiar figure roller-skated her way to his side, waving. The engagement party for Gretchen and Hunter was in full swing. Costumed partygoers lined the stately halls of Buchanan Manor, and everywhere there were banners and balloons proclaiming the upcoming nuptials of the happy couple. Waitstaff carried champagne glasses and hors d’oeuvres through the crowd, and people were all laughing and mingling and having a good time. Well, almost all. When a cheerleader and a sexy Cookie Monster hit on him the moment he walked through the door, he knew this was yet another “hookup” party. What was it about weddings that made everyone else frantic to find a partner? He’d even dressed in a low-key costume to try to avoid attention, and it wasn’t working. Which was why he was so glad to see Chelsea as she skated toward him, winding her way through the crowd as if she were born on roller-skates. It was pretty impressive to see.

And damn, she was sexy tonight, too. She was just a friend, but she was rocking her costume. A sticker-covered pink-and-purple helmet topped her curly pigtails, and her dress was a short and tiny purple skating costume with a pleated skirt that did nothing to cover her panties. She wore striped pink-and-purple stockings up to her thighs and kneepads and elbow pads, and looked every inch the part of a hot roller derby girl.

Well, except for the black eye. That was distressing.

But she grinned as she skated up to him and then turned so she could stand at his side. “Yeah, it’s a legit black eye. I ran into an elbow. Got myself a shiner.”

She sounded so casual about the abuse. It worried him, even though it wasn’t his place to bring it up. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m cool.” Chelsea’s gaze swung out over the party. “It is wall-to-wall in here tonight. I thought Hunter wasn’t social?”

“He’s not, but it seems like Gretchen is determined to let the entire world know that she loves the man.”