Of course, then she had to face Jane, who caught up with her in the teacher’s lounge before school started. Chelsea had hoped she’d actually be able to enjoy her croissant and drink and have some quiet time to reflect on yesterday and the day before.

“You didn’t answer my text messages. Or my e-mails. Or my phone calls.”

Chelsea looked up from her very appealing croissant to give Jane a blank stare. “I did text you.”

Jane cocked her head to the side. “Your text said: Occupied. We’ll talk Monday. What does that even mean? Occupied with Bash, I assume. And how was it?”

She took a long sip of her drink before answering. “We had a good time.”

Jane pulled up a chair next to her. “Oh no. You don’t get to give me a non-answer like that.”

She stuffed her face with a giant piece of croissant, and then she thanked the stars for timeliness, because the bell rang. She pointed to her full mouth, then the clock, and shrugged in apology, then grabbed her bag and her coffee and backed away from her friend.

Jane pointed a finger at her. “This conversation is far from over, Chelsea Gardner.”

She knew it wasn’t, but she honestly had nothing to say. She’d had an amazing day and a half with Bash. But they weren’t an item, or a couple, or even dating.

They’d had sex, and that was it. And now it was over.

Which made her feel kind of empty inside. But she wasn’t going to think about how she felt, especially as it related to Bash.

Not that her friends would let her forget about Bash, because several days later she was forced into a summit meeting.

Emma had called it dinner at her place. Luke was pulling night-shift duty for one of the guys on the squad and Emma had said Molly was hanging out with her. She said they were going to make it a girls’ night. Will was working as well, which meant Jane would be there. Samantha and Megan were coming over, too.

Chelsea knew she shouldn’t be suspicious of her friends’ motives, but she hadn’t told any of them details of her time with Bash, even though everyone had asked. And maybe they’d respect that, but she kind of doubted it. If the shoe were on any of these other women’s feet, she’d hound them incessantly until they gave up the info, so why should she assume they’d leave her alone?

She’d slept with Bash. That made her fair game for gossip. And she’d spent the past few days—and nights—prepping for finals. She was tired of doing schoolwork. A girls’ night sounded like a great idea.

She stopped at the liquor store after school and picked up a couple bottles of wine, then hit up the grocery store after that. She made a chilled crab salad that would pair exceptionally well with the crackers she’d bought.

After changing into a pair of capris and a long top, she slid into her wedge sandals and headed over to Emma’s.

Emma answered the door and took the tray she was balancing on her hand.

“Whatever you’ve made, I’m going to love it,” Emma said.

“You don’t even know what I made.”

“I don’t care. I’m starving.”

It looked like everyone but Samantha had arrived, so she gave them all hugs.

“I made chocolate-covered strawberries today,” Megan said. “Oh, and baklava.”

“You made baklava?” Chelsea asked. “In your spare time, when you’re not running a bakery?”

Megan grinned. “Of course I did. I also picked up some champagne to go with the strawberries. That’s dessert. Now what did all of you bring to entice me for our snacking-for-dinner soiree?”

“I made pasta,” Jane said. “Thankfully, my parents picked up the kids after school, so I had time to cook.”

“Awesome,” Chelsea said. “Too bad you and Will couldn’t have had the night alone.”

“That is too bad. But we get plenty of alone nights together. The grandparents always want the kids.”

The doorbell rang, so Emma left to answer it.

“I’ll put the rest of the food on the counter,” Molly said.

Chelsea opened up the paper plates and set them out. It was nearly seven, so she knew everyone was hungry.

“Sorry I’m late,” Samantha said, placing her bowl on the counter next to everyone else’s. “I had a late flower delivery. I hope the homemade meatballs make up for my tardiness.”

Chelsea’s stomach grumbled. “I love your meatballs. And actually, I just came in right before you, so I don’t think you’re late.”

“No one’s late,” Emma said. “But I’m hungry, so let’s grab plates and eat.”

Bottles of wine were opened and plates were filled. Emma had moved extra chairs to her table, and Chelsea filled her plate with pasta, several different salads, and, of course, meatballs. She knew her eyes were bigger than her stomach, but she wanted to try a little bit of everything. The wine was fantastic and helped her wind down some, which she’d desperately needed.

“I’m so not ready for finals,” Jane said. “The end of school has come faster than normal this year. Or at least it seems that way. And Ryan and Tabby are already in summer mode. They’re driving me crazy.”

“All the kids are crazy,” Chelsea said. “They’re over school, and the whole idea of finals is tipping the scales for them.”

Jane nodded. “Especially the seniors. Several of mine are so nervous.”

“Yes. I’ll be glad when the next week and a half is over.”