The Heart Chaser by Gina Azzi
Luca
My legs burn as I sprint the last hundred meters. Sweat courses down my back, causing my T-shirt to stick to my skin, settling into the waistband of my joggers. The faces I fly past stare at me with a mix of awe and surprise that motivates me to move faster.
My arms pump furiously. The sound of my sneakers pounding the pavement, my own heartbeat, my measured breathing, are the only sounds I latch onto.
Go, move, faster, Pandatelli.
When I reach the front of my building, I ease into a jog. By the time I reach the next corner, I slow to a walk. I breathe out and raise my hands to the back of my head.
Exhaling, my breath creates a puff of smoke in the cold, early morning air. I half-heartedly go through a quick stretching routine, my mind still racing despite the tough run.
A lot of people think that just because I stand in a net, I don’t need to condition the way the other guys on the team do. But that’s bullshit. I may not fly up the ice on a breakaway the way East does or skate backwards as easily as I breathe like James, but I need to be agile as fuck to contort my body and block shots.
Today’s run was on another level. It was more than my normal workout routine dictates. This morning, I ran for mental clarity and as I lean forward, my hands gripping my kneecaps as I suck in a deep inhale, it did jack shit.
Because images of Abbi still play on a loop in my mind. The scent of her hair still sticks to my skin and the feel of her curves still cause my fingers to twitch. Kissing Abbi shouldn’t be a novelty in my life; Lord knows I’m not a saint. But with her, something changed. In one instant, my world flipped and the frustration and anger I’ve been carrying around for weeks became lighter. Hopeful. Desirous as hell.
For the first time in my life, I don’t know how to play it. With women, I’m charming. I do casual, fun, live-in-the-moment carelessness. But now I’ve got the woman of my dreams, of any man’s dreams, as mine. It’s as gratifying as it is terrifying. How the hell can I do this without mucking it all up?
Will my past bother her? Will my family obligations be too much? Will we even want the same things in a few months from now? How the hell does all of this work?
I straighten my back and look up at Abbi’s building which I just happened to find myself standing in front of. Obviously, it wasn’t a planned-out thing. We’re practically neighbors.
Do I call her? Is that too forward?
I growl at myself for being so inept at this. Most guys know how to date by the time they’re in their thirties. Instead, I feel like a bumbling high schooler with too much testosterone and not enough common sense.
The wind whips around me and as my sweat begins to dry, the cold starts to seep into my bones. All right, enough of this. Game time decision. I told Abbi I was all in and that means committing. It also means communicating.
I slip my phone out of my pocket and dial her number.
“Hello?” she answers, sleep and surprise in her voice.
It makes me smile and now I’m the loser standing outside her building, peering up at it as if I know which window is hers (I don’t), and grinning like I just won an award. I take a breath, a chuckle working its way up my throat at how lame I am. “Morning, Abs.”
“Good morning, Luca.” I can hear the smile in her voice too and it emboldens me to continue.
“Sleep well?”
“Uh-huh. You?”
“Very.”
“Good.”
“Good.”
A few seconds of silence tick by and while it should feel awkward, it doesn’t. I laugh lightly and blurt out, “I just finished my run. I’m standing in front of your building freezing my balls off, trying to work up the courage to invite you to breakfast.”
She laughs and the sound warms me from the inside out. Who needs a winter coat and a scarf when you can listen to pure sunshine?
“Would you like to come up?” she asks, a layer of sexiness to her tone. I open my mouth but she adds, “I don’t want your balls to freeze off. I kind of like them.”
A shot of laughter bursts from my lips. “I’m coming up now.”
“See you in a second.” She disconnects and I shake my head, entering her building.
The heat hits me full blast and I realize how disgusting I am. Sweaty, stinky, and definitely not the way a boyfriend should show up at his girlfriend’s door. That thought makes me freeze in front of the elevators.
Is that what I am? A boyfriend?
The word feels strange as I test it out. Not bad, just different.
When the elevator doors open, I step inside and note in the mirror that I’m smiling again. Yeah, I can be Abbi’s boyfriend. I want to be Abbi’s boyfriend.
No more fucking Phils or Aidens for her. From here on out, she’s mine and I’m going to be here for her. I’m going to do every damn thing I can to prove that to her.
By the time she answers her door, my nerves have dissipated. My second-guessing is gone. I’m left with her beaming face and my desire to kiss it. So, I do.
Being with Abbi feels right, the same way playing hockey does. I’m going to trust that.
“Morning.” I kiss her again.
“You said that already.”
“You hungry?” I step inside, my eyes dropping down the length of her body. How the hell a girl can make leggings and a flannel sexy is beyond me but Abbi is rocking the shit out of this blue-and-green plaid like a Scottish bride.
She nods slowly, her eyes drinking me in like she’s thirsty.
I bite the corner of my mouth and her eyes widen. I lunge for her and she laughs, her arms automatically encircling my neck as I hitch her into my arms. Her lean legs wrap around my waist and I catch the ends of her hair, tipping her face up so I can kiss her full-on.
Our lips meet hastily, our teeth clashing. She snorts and I chuckle and then I’m kissing her the way I thought about every damn day for the past six months. Thoroughly and completely.
I move toward the kitchen, depositing Abbi on her kitchen table. Her legs widen and I step between them, my palm planting in the space beside her hip. I lean forward, her hands grip the front of my hoodie, and we kiss. It’s intense, the feel of her lips over mine. It’s sexy, the slip of her tongue against mine. It’s hot, the sounds of her need mixing with mine. I slant my mouth over hers, my other hand wrapping around her waist to hold her against me as I deepen our connection.
Desire races through my blood as I harden for her. I lean her back, laying her out on the table so I can work the buttons covering her up. She watches me intently, her gaze trained on my face as I slip the buttons through the material, slowly unwrapping her like a Christmas present. Just when her shirt slides apart and my mouth dries at the see-through black lace barely covering her raspberry-colored nipples, looking as sweet as I remember them, my phone rings.
“Shit.” I close my eyes and hang my head.
Don’t answer it. It’s not important.
I grip Abbi’s hip. Her eyes narrow as she waits for me to continue or pick up the damn phone.
And I really don’t want to answer but what if it’s my family? What if they need me? The phone stops ringing and I let out a shaky exhale of relief. I’m about to drop my mouth to her taunting breast when the ringing picks up again. I growl out a swear and Abbi’s eyebrows dip.
She pops up on her elbows. “Answer it.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
I narrow my eyes at her, trying to read the bend in her eyebrows. Is it fine?
I sigh and pull my phone from my pocket. Justine’s face lights up the screen. “It’s my sister.”
Abbi sits up fully and moves to slip past me.
“No.” I place my hand on her thigh to keep her ass rooted to the table. “Just do the top few buttons.”
“Huh?” she asks.
I swipe right. “Hey, Jus,” I answer the FaceTime call.
Instead of Justine, my nieces’ adorable smiles light up the screen.
“Uncle Luca!” Laura squeals.
“Uncky! Uncky!” Valentina claps her hands.
“What are you doing?” My nephew Gino appears, his eyes narrowed.
I chuckle and shake my head. “What are you guys doing?” I look at the time. “It’s seven-thirty in the morning. Shouldn’t you be at school?”
“It’s a PD day,” Gino says, looking at me like I’m daft.
“What the hell, er, heck, is that?” I ask.
“Professional development for the teachers,” he says like everyone knows that.
“I don’t ever remember having those,” I tell him.
“That’s because you’re old,” he states matter-of-factly.
My mouth pops open and a soft laugh sounds from Abbi.
“You believe this kid?” I ask her.
“Who are you with?” My other nephew, Jack, appears in the corner of the screen, his expression curious.
“Is it your girlfriend?” Gino, a little shit at ten years old, taunts.
“You have a girlfriend!” Laura claps her hands together. “Can I meet her? Can I?”
I glance at Abbi. “You ready to make this official?”
She rolls her eyes but she’s cheesing pretty hard. As much as these little nuggets drive me nuts, I gotta give them props for not making the whole meet-the-family thing a thing. FaceTime makes it pretty casual. I wrap my arm around Abbi and pull her to my side, checking that she buttoned up her shirt. When I’m satisfied that no extra skin is showing, I angle the camera and announce, “Guys, this is my girl, Abbi. Isn’t she pretty?”
“Sure is,” Gino answers automatically.
Abbi laughs, giving a wave. “Hi, guys. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“You have?” Laura’s eyes widen as she looks at Abbi. “You’re really beautiful.”
“Thank you.” Abbi’s smile widens. “You’re really beautiful, too.”
“I pretty too!” Valentina announces, waving her little chubby toddler hand.
“You are a beauty,” Abbi agrees.
“What are you all doing with your mom’s phone?” I ask Jack.
“Valentina is here since Aunt Nikki had to work. Mom’s just in the shower.”
“So you thought you’d bug me?” I ask.
Jack shrugs.
“Do you like princesses?” Laura asks Abbi like she’s never met a woman before.
“I love princesses,” Abbi says. “Mulan is my favorite.”
“Mulan? Why?” Laura demands.
“Because she’s strong and brave and fights better than all the boys,” Abbi explains practically.
Laura nods, thinking this over. “I’m stronger than my brothers.”
“Are not.” Gino gives her a shove.
I wait for Laura to burst into tears but she just shoots us a wicked grin and twists Gino’s nipple through his shirt until he howls.
“This is my family,” I explain to Abbi as Justine zips into the room in a towel, her wet hair hanging around her face.
“Jesus Christ! Who did you little fart faces call?” my sister bellows at the kids.
Abbi cracks up as the screen gets jumbled around until my sister’s face comes into view.
“Shit,” she mutters. “Sorry Luca and—”
“Abbi,” Abbi says, lifting her hand to wave again. “It’s good to meet you.”
My sister’s mouth drops open in shock and I take the phone, grinning. “This is my girlfriend, Justine. Turns out I’ll be bringing a date to Robbie’s dinner next month after all. Gotta go. Love you. ‘Bye.” I disconnect before my sister can pepper me with questions and interrogate Abbi. She’s scarier than Robbie and should be up for promotion at the police station.
The last thing we see before the screen cuts out is Justine’s surprised expression.
Abbi laughs again and scoots off the kitchen table. “Your nieces and nephews are cute.”
“They’re pains in the ass, cock-blocking me before eight in the morning.”
Abbi snorts and fiddles with the end of her shirt.
“Now, where were we?” I lift an eyebrow.
But my girl shakes her head. “You promised me breakfast, Luca. Then, I have work.”
“No PD day?”
She smacks the back of her hand against my stomach.
I catch it and pull her in for one last kiss. “Pancakes it is,” I agree, slipping off the table. “Go get dressed and I’ll take you to the best diner on this side of town. You’ll be a local in no time.”
Abbi blows me a kiss over her shoulder as she walks to her room. I sit in the living room until she appears, making boring black workpants sexy as hell. She slips into winter boots and a coat.
When I reach for her hand, she laces our fingers together.
We step back into the bustling city as a real couple and I like it. I like it a lot.