Four Years Later (One Week Girlfriend #4)(49)

The weather is shit. It’s like the skies closed up special for the game and the minute it was over, the clouds parted, opened up and dumped enough water to flood the entire stadium. Getting out of the parking lot was less of a nightmare for us than for the regular folks, since we got to park in the special team lot, but still, it took awhile. And I flat-out couldn’t resist when Drew asked us to go out to dinner with them.

Chelsea had agreed readily, but she was quiet the entire meal. I have no idea if I pissed her off and I wasn’t about to ask her in front of Fable and Drew, so I tried my best to include her in the conversation. But she wasn’t having it. Not that she was rude, but she’d sort of withdrawn into herself, remaining quiet as she sat by my side. Fable noticed. She asked Chelsea if she was feeling all right, and Chels confessed she had a headache and that she was tired, but she’d be fine.

That was Fable’s cue to give me a sharp look that told me point blank I needed to take care of her. I promised I would, sending her an equally pointed look back that she should stay out of my business, but I think it went undetected.

Typical.

We’d already finished dinner and Drew looked exhausted, his arm slung along the back of Fable’s chair, his fingers twirling the ends of her hair. I watched them, trying to see them from Chelsea’s perspective, wondering what she might think as she spent time with them. Seeing them with fresh eyes, especially with a girl I’d like to make mine sitting next to me, I’d never been so aware of the easy, affectionate way between them until now.

The love between them is like a living, breathing thing. They look at each other and you feel it. They touch each other and you see it. When I was younger—hell, six months ago—I always thought the two of them were ridiculously sappy together. Like, over-the-top in love. When we’d first all moved in together, I’d been embarrassed to catch them in each other’s arms, kissing. They’d never done anything inappropriate around me, but I guess their open affection for each other just never felt that comfortable for me to see.

Of course, I’d been a teenage boy full of hormones, and not a big believer in love and all that shit. Checking out hot chicks and wanting to get my hands on their bodies in any way possible, yeah—that’s what motivated me at that age.

Now, though, I’m starting to realize I want what Fable and Drew have. I know I’m young, but shit, they were young, too, when they first met and fell in love. And look at them. Years later, they still act like they’re totally gone over each other. They’re married, they have a baby, he’s beyond busy with his career, she’s busy taking care of Autumn, and they still look at each other as if they’ve only just met and they can’t believe they have each other.

Yeah. I want that sort of thing. And I think I want it with Chelsea.

She doesn’t seem to want it with me, though. I don’t know what happened, what turned her mood. Maybe she hadn’t enjoyed herself at the game after all. I know sports aren’t her thing and she’s not a football fan whatsoever, but shit, we were sitting in the skybox, getting the deluxe treatment. Wade will shit himself when he finds out I went and didn’t take him. At least he would have appreciated the game.

Maybe Fable told her something that freaked her out. I know they talked about me when I took off and bought the sweatshirt for her, but what could Fable have said that would have made Chelsea become so damn quiet?

I haven’t a clue, but she’s completely withdrawn from me and I f**king hate it.

We leave the restaurant right after Drew pays the bill, and we’re all standing under the awning waiting for the valet guy to bring both cars around.

When you go out to dinner now with Drew Callahan, you always go out in style. The guy is a f**king celebrity.

Chelsea makes her escape back inside, claiming she needs to go to the bathroom before we start our long drive, and Fable turns to me, her mouth cast in a stern line, her gaze narrowed as she pulls me aside, away from Drew.

“Be careful driving home,” Fable says, motherly concern lacing her voice. “It’s raining pretty bad and I’m sure the roads are terrible.”

“I’ll be careful, I promise,” I reassure her, pulling her into a quick hug. “Don’t worry.”

“And it’s so late.” She withdraws from me, her mouth pulling into a frown. “Maybe you should stay the night with us.”

That’s a long-ass drive back to San Francisco in this kind of weather. No thanks. “I think Chelsea has class in the morning. I know I do.”

Fable sighs. “I just hate thinking of you out driving for hours in this rain.”

“We’ll be fine, don’t worry. Seriously.” I ruffle her hair, something she used to do to me when I was younger but since I tower over her by about a foot, I’ve got the upper hand now. “I’ll text you when we get home, okay?”

“You’d better. I’ll be lying awake until I hear from you,” she says.

“Please. You’ll be passed out with Autumn cradled in your arms,” I tell her. She’s admitted to me already that when she’s feeding the baby in the middle of the night, they end up asleep in bed together. She’s up all hours of the night taking care of Autumn, though I guess they’ve found more of a schedule. I don’t know. I start glazing over when Fable starts talking endless baby shit.

But I know I don’t want to be the other one who’s keeping her awake.