The Heart Chaser by Gina Azzi
Abbi
Plows roam up and down the streets, clearing snow and spraying salt. The sky is gray and overcast and the wind howls as it whips past my windows.
But inside, it’s cozy and warm. The center of my kitchen table is set with a tray of candles, all lit and giving off delicious wintery scents. I’m wearing my favorite oversized sweater and leggings. My feet are wrapped in plush slippers and my hand is wrapped around an oversized mug of coffee.
I settle into the corner of the couch, close my eyes, and take a deep breath.
“You need anything?” Luca asks, his voice causing my nerves to tingle.
I need a lot of things.Luckily, I don’t voice the thought. I open my eyes to see him standing uncertainly on the edge of the living room, hovering like he isn’t sure if he should stay or go. Well, that makes two of us.
The least I can do is offer to make him breakfast. After he dropped everything to come to my aid and then I insinuated that he had a one-night stand…
“Abs?” He clears his throat.
I blush and dip my head, taking a large gulp of coffee. The mug I brought into the living room for Luca while he was in the bathroom rests, untouched, on the coffee table.
“Want to have some coffee?” I lift my chin in the direction of the mug. “I can make us breakfast.”
“You don’t have to do that,” he says but he rounds the chair and settles into it, bringing the coffee mug with him. He takes a sip and sighs appreciatively, his own eyes closing for a moment.
“You look tired,” I comment.
His eyes pop open. Well, it wasn’t the nicest thing to say but it was truthful.
“I’ve been busy lately,” he murmurs. “A lot of flying.”
“How are they doing?” I ask, wanting to know more about his family dynamics, about the way he’s stepping up for the people he loves most.
“Okay. It’s just…a lot sometimes…with Pop. My sisters.” He clears his throat. “I should get going.” He moves to stand and my heart flutters, not ready for him to leave even though logic should dictate that I push him through the door. I feel shaky, uneasy. Partially from the images Phil sent me this morning that led to my bathroom stumble and partially from Luca’s presence. Not only do I not want Luca to leave; I want to sit here and listen to him talk about his family. I want him to give me more pieces of himself, to remind me that there are good men in the world, specifically in the wake of Phil’s latest messages.
“Don’t,” I murmur. “Let me make breakfast. It’s the least I can do.” I stand and move toward the kitchen.
Luca hesitates, his eyes studying mine with an intensity that confuses me. “I’m not a bad guy,” he says finally.
“I know that.” I do. Deep down, my heart even knows that Luca is one of the good ones.
He reaches for my arm, his fingers linking around my wrist. He tugs gently, until I turn and look up at him. “I know I hurt you and I’m so fucking sorry, Abbi. But you can trust me. You can talk to me.”
I scoff and roll my eyes, but I’m touched by the sincerity in his tone. In fact, his words, the seriousness in his eyes when he says them, sends a ripple of pleasure through me, straight to the place between my thighs that is desperate for him. Jesus, I’m losing it. “Are you a bacon and eggs guy? Or do you prefer pancakes?”
The corner of Luca’s mouth twitches, calling me out on my deflection. But he doesn’t voice it. He just drops my wrist and says, “Bacon and eggs.”
I nod and walk into the kitchen. I pour a second mug of coffee, which probably isn’t the best idea since I already feel jittery. I pull the necessary ingredients out of the refrigerator and get to work, keenly aware of Luca perched on the edge of a barstool.
My body tightens under his gaze. Why the hell does he have to look like one of those sexy, too perfect men that grace the covers of romance novels? Men like that aren’t supposed to exist in real life. Yet, I can’t tear my eyes away from the way Luca traces the rim of his coffee mug. His finger slow and steady, his lips pursed in thought.
I force my eyes to the stove, to the frying pan, to making breakfast. This shouldn’t feel seductive. Cooking breakfast for a man shouldn’t feel thrilling or daring. It should feel like drudgery.
As the oil heats up in the pan, the temperature in the room jumps. My skin heats, my stomach tightening. The sizzle of bacon fills the air. I crack the eggs, whisking them furiously as I feel Luca’s eyes on me, centered in the space between my shoulder blades.
Will it always be like this? An irrefutable connection? A chemistry that sparks?
Why can’t I ever like the safe, boring men that Chloe suggested? Why couldn’t I feel a zing with a nice guy, a man like Aiden?
Just when I think I can shut Luca out, he does something to reel me in. He shows up. He offers his help. He shoots me a smile that makes me feel like I’m flying. He proves that he’s nothing like Phil. Or Kent. Or my father. And my heart softens the slightest bit toward him.
My emotions wreak havoc on my body and suddenly, I feel like sobbing. I feel like dropping to my knees and crying until my hurt drains out, until my fear over Phil’s subtle threats disappear, until I can think of Gran and smile.
Luca’s hand appears on my hip, his other hand covering mine and squeezing until I stop whisking. His chest, hard and strong, shadows my back. I hear his sharp inhale and a flood of tears rushes forward, filling my eyes with humiliation, heartache, and a desperate kind of longing.
Luca takes the bowl from my hand and places it on the countertop with a thud. Then he turns me in his arms, stepping forward until I’m pinned between him and the counter, with nowhere to look but up. His eyes overflow with confusion and regret.
My tears spill over, a few tracking my cheeks with a slowness that is movie-worthy.
Luca takes in my tears and his jaw clenches. He lifts his hand slowly and brushes his fingers over my cheeks as one might a child. “Talk to me, Abbi.”
At the genuine concern in his voice, my face crumples. I lean forward, dropping my forehead against his chest. I hear him turn the stove off before he wraps his arms around me, holding me in an embrace that feels like a safety net when it should feel like a danger zone.
“Abbi,” Luca murmurs, his fingers lacing through my hair, his hand steady in the center of my back.
I take a deep breath, my tears wetting the front of his shirt. I breathe him in, winter and aftershave and man, and the scent is soothing. I’m not sure how long I stand wrapped up in Luca but eventually, he shifts. He pulls back slightly, his hand cups my cheek and angles my face up toward his.
What I read in his expression undoes me. Anguish lines his face and pain rings his eyes. “Please, confide in me, sweet girl.”
I roll my lips together and fall into the pools of his eyes. His hands rub up and down the sides of my body, comforting.
He tips forward and kisses my forehead, lingering long enough for my eyes to drop, for me to savor the moment, somehow knowing it means more than this instant. “I’m making breakfast. Go sit down.”
“You don’t have to—” My voice sounds strangled.
“Please. Let me do this for you. Let me in.” His tone holds a note of pleading that I want to trust.
I nod and slip onto the barstool he vacated. Staring at his back, I watch him flip on the stove to finish cooking our bacon before pouring in the egg mixture. He moves around my kitchen like he’s been in it before.
When he slides a plate piled with bacon, eggs, and toast in front of me, my emotional outburst has quieted. Embarrassment wraps around me but not to the degree of humiliation one would expect. Instead, I mostly feel relieved. I’ve been holding so much inside for so long and it felt good, cathartic even, to release some of the buildup.
Luca slips onto the barstool beside me. “What’s going on, baby?” he tries again, the endearment sliding off his tongue like he says it to me all the time.
I take a deep breath, about to shoot back something lighthearted but a piece of the truth tumbles out instead. “My gran died.”
His hand covers mine. “I know. And I hate that you’re hurting so badly, Abbi.”
“I lost my job,” I add and his eyes narrow.
“When?”
“November.” My fingers tap the end of my fork, nervousness racing through me.
“Phil?” he asks, the word holding more meaning than the name alone.
I nod, cringing as the images on my phone blare in my mind. “Turns out he was married. And I’m the home-wrecking slut that—”
“Don’t talk about yourself like that,” Luca cuts me off, anger sharp in his voice.
I sigh. “Boston is supposed to be my fresh start,” I explain, forcing myself to meet his eyes.
“But it means having me in your life,” he surmises.
“You didn’t call.” I wish I don’t sound so brokenhearted when I say it but maybe it’s for the best. Maybe this therapy session is going to be a turning point. Maybe I’m finally moving forward with my life, shedding some of the emotional baggage I carry around like a cargo plane.
“I wish I did.”
My eyes widen at the admission.
Luca shifts in his seat, spinning both of us so we’re facing each other, my knees tucked in between his, my hands clasped in his. “I’ve never done this before, Abbi.”
“Blown a girl off?”
The corner of his mouth lifts. “No smartass. I’ve never tried before. Usually, women flock to me and I—”
“I get it.”
He chuckles. “You scare me.”
I roll my eyes. “I scare you?”
Luca bites his bottom lip and the air between us tightens. “The way I feel about you, how much I feel for you, scares me,” he admits.
What. The. Hell.
My mouth drops open and his eyes lighten, zeroing in on my lips.
“Weren’t expecting that bit of truth, huh?” he teases.
I shake my head. Luca’s hand falls to the side of my thigh, splaying widely.
“I like you, Abbi Walsh. I care about you. I want to be here for you. I know I fucked everything up over the summer but…shit…” He pauses, scratching his cheek. “This is going to sound cliché as fuck but I’ve grown up a lot. Things with my family…”
“It’s been real.”
“Really intense.”
“You’re overwhelmed.”
“Buried,” he admits. “You’re like a snowflake in the middle of a Nor’easter.”
I snort, raising my eyebrows. “I don’t know what the means.”
“Means your special, Abbi. Means when I look at you, I see this one, singular, unique person in the midst of so much fucking chaos. I don’t know how to protect you from the disaster of my life. I don’t know how to be here the way you need me to be. I want to show up for you but I’m up to my eyeballs in—”
“Snowbanks,” I murmur.
He smiles but it’s sad. “It’s not going to melt anytime soon. My family is…a lot. I have two sisters and two brothers. My youngest brother is in the military, living in Texas. The rest of my family are in Philly. I’ve got a bunch of nieces and nephews. Both of my brothers-in-law are no longer in the picture, for different reasons, so I help out a lot.”
“Like telling bedtime stories?”
“I do all the characters’ voices.”
I grin because I can picture it perfectly. “You’re the fun uncle.”
“Of course,” he says, almost sounding offended. “I love my family but it also means that there’s not as much time for my own life.”
“I know what you mean,” I say softly. “For years, I was Gran’s sole caregiver. Then, when I moved her into the nursing home, I was her financial and emotional support.” I meet Luca’s understanding eyes. “Not that Gran held me back because I wanted to be there for her, but she did weigh heavily on my conscience.”
“I get it. You wanted to put her first so sometimes, decisions were made for you. But they may not have been the decisions you would have made if things were different.”
“Exactly. I never would have moved here if she was still alive.”
Luca’s touch is soft on my arm. “I’m sorry you’re hurting, Abs. I hate seeing you drown in pain.”
“I just miss her.”
“I know.”
“I always wondered what it would be like to have a big family,” I say.
Luca dips his head. “It’s chaos. Wildness. But it’s fun too. I never imagined what it would be like to not have my siblings.”
“It’s lonely,” I share. “Isolating.”
Luca reaches out and brushes my hair back from my face, careful not to touch the gash on my forehead. “Give me a shot, Abbi. I swear I’ll never let you be lonely again.”
I shake my head, knowing that’s not a promise he can make. No one can. “It’s not like that. I can be in a room full of people and still feel lonely…”
His eyebrows draw together. “How?”
I shrug. “Been on my own too long. I don’t know how, I can’t, connect sometimes.”
“You connect perfectly with me.”
I laugh. “Yeah, the sex was really hot.”
He smirks but his eyes remain serious, unwilling to take the levity I offered. “Wasn’t talking about connecting in bed, Abbi.”
I swallow thickly. “I’m not like the women you’re usually with.”
“You’re the first woman I’ve ever really been with.”
The rapid beating of my heart starts to overtake the logic I swore I’d stick to.
“You’re the first one who’s meant more than a moment, Abbi. A hell of a lot more.”
My fingertips tingle and I draw in a shaky inhale.
“You can trust me, baby. Trust the fact that I never do anything like this.” He gestures in between us and to the kitchen at large. “With the exception of the women in my family, I don’t go out of my way for women at all. But I want to be here for you. Let me.”
I hold his eyes for a long moment, weighing his words with his expression. My heart races and I feel like laughing and vomiting.
Take a leap of faith, Abigail. Gran’s voice fills my head as clear as if she was sitting next to me.
“Yes.”
Luca smiles like I just announced he was inducted into the Hockey Hall of Fame. His entire face brightens, his eyes spark, and a satisfaction I’ve never known rolls through me.
“Yes,” he repeats.
Then, he leans forward and captures my lips in a kiss that flips my world upside down. All I can focus on is him, the feel of his mouth against mine, the beat of his heart underneath my palm.
Luca slams through some of my walls as I dent some of the steel in his coat of armor. It isn’t a perfect combination, but Luca is right. It’s more of a connection than I’ve ever experienced before.
It’s a connection that counts, one that both thrills and terrifies me.