But Sean had made plans, so…
Irritation flashed through me, and I yanked the hoodie off the hanger. If I couldn’t go to the game, I’d support the team from afar.
Pairing it with jeans and pulling my long brown hair up in a ponytail, I dabbed on a little lip gloss and went to find Sean so we could get going.
He stood in the kitchen, barefoot, looking at his phone, which was odd because I thought we were leaving. His eyes flicked up and down when I walked in.
“That’s what took you so long to pick?” he asked.
“You said we were going to the Timberbeast. Last time I checked, Rocco doesn’t enforce a dress code.”
“Whatever, it’s fine. We’re not going to the Timberbeast anyway.”
“Oh. Then where are we going?”
“Nowhere.” He set his phone on the counter. “Everyone’s coming here. They’ll be here any minute.”
My lips parted in surprise, and I sputtered for a second, fishing for a reply. “What? Here? What do you mean, they’re coming here? You said we were meeting everyone at the bar.”
“Change of plans.”
“Why?”
He checked his phone again and typed a message before looking up at me. I didn’t miss the annoyance in his expression. “Does it matter? It’s just what we decided.”
“Wedidn’t decide anything.” I pointed back and forth between us. “You and the homeboys maybe, but notwe.”
“What’s the problem? It’s just the guys. It’s not like they care if the place is clean.”
“That’s not the point. You could have at least asked if I mind having guests over.”
“What difference does it make if we hang out here or at a bar?”
I was about to reply that it made a big difference, especially if his friends were expecting food, when there was a knock at the door.
My shoulders slumped. Great. Guests already.
“Can you get out some chips and salsa or something?” he asked.
I gaped at him while he went to answer the door. It was his buddy Mark. They greeted each other with an elaborate handshake, and Sean shut the door behind him. Mark wasn’t married, and he hadn’t brought anyone with him. Just a six-pack of beer.
As irritated as I was with Sean, I wasn’t going to be a bad hostess. I went to the pantry and found a bag of chips and a jar of salsa. He and I would have a conversation about inviting people over without consulting me later.
With the chips and salsa laid out on the dining table, I went back to the kitchen and poked around, looking for more snacks—and hoping the other guys brought more than beer.
Chad and Jordyn arrived next, and of course Jordyn looked like she’d just come from a photo shoot. I went to the entry, ready to greet them and take whatever food they’d brought to the kitchen. But Chad handed me another six-pack—without somuch as a smile or a thank-you—and Jordyn wasn’t carrying anything.
“Hi,” I said, trying to be friendly. “Welcome. Happy Friday.”
Jordyn turned to me and her smile faded slightly as her gaze flicked up and down. “Hi, Penelope.”
“I like your outfit,” I said. “That sweater is so pretty.”
“Yeah, thanks.” She eyed me again but didn’t say anything else.
A blush crept across my cheeks, and I held up the beer. “I guess I’ll put these in the fridge. Did you eat before you came?”
“No,” Jordyn said, her tone matter-of-fact.
