The Heart Chaser by Gina Azzi
Luca
I’m on cloud fucking nine.
I whistle as I push into the arena the next day, breathing in the crisp air that’s usually stale, lifting my hand to wave to the intern who talks shit behind my back.
Man, today is fucking beautiful.
I enter the locker room, doing a little side shuffle, that garners a hell of a lot of side-eye from a handful of my teammates. These guys just don’t appreciate the little things, the simple joys, the beauty of life.
We’re about to skate out onto the ice and play hockey. We’re the lucky sons of bitches who turned our childhood dreams into careers. And tonight, my girl is in the stands, rocking my fucking number, cheering my name.
I grin. Damn, that feels good.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Easton asks me, frowning.
“Nothing.” I open my locker. “Everything’s great.”
“Great?” Yaeger narrows his eyes.
I pull off my hoodie and toss it inside, sparing a glance at my friends. “Great,” I repeat.
Austin groans and shakes his head.
“What?” James asks him.
Yaeger points at me accusingly. “He met someone.”
The guys surrounding me cackle. No damn decency, the lot of them.
“No fucking way,” East says.
“I mean, it’s believable,” Sims pipes up. “Panda meets a lot of someones.”
I scratch my cheek with my middle finger and Yeager guffaws.
I close my locker door with a bang and find many sets of eyes trained on me.
I sigh and cross my arms over my chest. “If you must know, Yaeger is correct. I’ve met someone.”
Cheers and jeers sound out and I wait a moment for the locker room to quiet back down.
“Who is she?”
“She gave it to you real fucking good, huh?”
“You seeing her again? Or is she your usual, a one and done?”
The sentences that ring out burn my ears and fill me with shame. Because while I’ve indulged in locker room talk before, I’m now so disgusted with myself that it takes an extra minute to form coherent thoughts, never mind words.
“Shut the fuck up,” I snap and the guys all quiet down, a heaviness settling over the room.
Austin smirks, looking pleased with my outburst while everyone else just looks confused.
“Damn,” Yaeger mutters.
“About damn time,” Noah adds.
“Gentlemen, I have a girlfriend,” I announce.
A few mouths pop open but mostly, my teammates regard me with a mixture of surprise and curiosity.
“And I’m fucking crazy about her,” I continue to some applause and cheers. “There will be nothing disrespectful muttered about her. Ever.”
Nods and agreeing clucks.
“It’s Abbi Walsh,” I finish to stunned silence.
“The Outreach Manager?” Yaeger asks.
“She’s hot,” Sims says matter-of-factly.
I scowl at him.
“Finally.” Austin blows out a sigh, clasping me on the back. “Glad you finally pulled your head out of your ass and recognized what was right in front of you.”
I nod at Cap.
Noah grins at me. “Good for you, Panda. I like Abbi.”
East smirks and shakes his head. “All it took to reform the Hawks notorious player was a fucking good girl.”
The guys laugh and I flip them off.
While I’ve never had an issue with my reputation before, right now, it irks me. I’ve never been dishonest with women but with Abbi…damn, with Abbi, everything is different. By the way the guys are looking at me, they know it too.
I shake off the strange energy and breathe out a sigh of relief when Coach Phillips enters the locker room, clapping his hands and calling us to attention.
Hockey, I can focus on. Relationship chatter, not so much.
It’s with gusto that I take the ice, glancing up in the stands to pick out my girl. There she is. I lift a hand in her direction and she beams, her long, dark hair falling over her shoulders as she leans forward.
I grin, she smiles, and the arena seems to shrink. All the fans and players and noise sort of fade out for a second, dim in my head, so I can focus on Abbi.
“Keep your head in the game,” James Ryan warns, giving me a knowing glance.
I nod, tearing my eyes away from the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known. Right now, James is right. I need to focus on the game, on winning.
The New York Sharks line up and I take my position in front of the net. As soon as the whistle blows, the puck drops, and a switch inside my head flips. For as long as I can remember, hockey is the one thing I could do to ensure my family’s and my financial stability.
When I hear that whistle, I go all in on preserving that security. Hockey was always my meal ticket—in more ways than one—and even though my feelings are twisted up like crazy, I know better than to take a second of ice time for granted.
After saving every shot on goal during the first period, I miss a snapshot at the start of the second period. My glove grazes the puck and while it’s enough to slow its trajectory, it’s not enough to block the goal.
Damn. The crowd goes wild as New York ties up with us. I crouch down in front of the net, unwilling to let New York score again. In the third period, Austin scores two goals, giving us a lead that makes breathing a little easier.
I keep my eyes trained on the ice, on the puck. I feel the intensity of every player as their energy rolls off their shoulders and crashes down on me. But true to my word, I save every shot that comes at me, and we win 3-1.
My heart races as the final whistle sounds out. Tonight was different. I was nervous, not because thousands of people were watching, cursing me out for my missed block, or commenting on the team. But because for the first time, there was a woman in the stands, watching me. Abbi is my woman and it made all the difference.
“Your girl’s got hearts in her eyes,” Yaeger comments as we make our way back to the locker room.
I snort and smack him on the back.
“I’m serious, she never dragged her eyes away from you. But man does she know the game.”
“Huh?”
“Every time I looked up, she was on her feet, shouting out commands. She knows her shit. You picked a good one, Panda.” He bumps his shoulder against mine before cutting to his locker.
I tilt my head, recalling something she said the first night she met me. I like the players, hate the game.
At the time, I thought she meant she didn’t like hockey. I thought she wasn’t into sports, just players. I open my locker door and consider Yaeger’s words. Maybe she enjoyed tonight more than I thought she would?
The thought makes me grin because hell, a girl who shows up in my number, follows the game, and enjoys it? That’s some relationship hat trick shit right there.
I shower quickly, answer a few post-game questions, and head out. While I usually hang around, kick it with some of the reporters, or try to wrangle the guys into after-game drinks, tonight, I just want to see Abbi.
I turn the corner and she appears before me, leaning up against a wall, sandwiched between Chloe and Claire.
Her face lights up when she sees me and I find myself cheesing back until my cheeks hurt.
“Aww,” Claire coos.
I ignore her though. I only have eyes for Abbi and when she pushes off the wall and bounds toward me, I’m ready to catch her and wrap her up tight.
She laughs as I lift her, her legs encircling my hips. “You were amazing,” she gushes, fueling my ego, which the guys would argue doesn’t need any help.
“Did you have fun?” I ask her, moving toward the parking lot.
“Panda, wait. Aren’t we getting drinks?” Sims calls out.
“Don’t you want to play some video games?” Yaeger tacks on.
“Come chill with your team,” Austin bellows.
I hear the laughter float behind me. I raise a hand and flip them all the middle finger again, their laughter growing raucous. Abbi chuckles in my ear before kissing a trail up the side of my neck, her teeth nipping my earlobe.
We walk out of the arena amid cheers and whistles and I love that my girl isn’t embarrassed in the slightest. If anything, she encourages it, surprising even me.
“You sure aren’t shy,” I tell her, kissing her hard before letting her slide down my body and settling her on her feet.
“Can’t say that I am,” she agrees, slipping an arm around my waist.
I lead us toward my SUV, liking the way she fits beside me. “I’ve never had this before,” I tell her truthfully as I open the passenger door.
Her forehead wrinkles as she looks up at me. “Had what?”
“This.” I gesture between us. “I never had a real girlfriend before. Not one to rock my number and watch my games and have it…mean something. Thank you for cheering us on tonight.”
Her expression softens and she reaches up to brush my hair back. Gripping the side of my head she says, “I don’t know what to do with you, Luca. You’ve got a tough shell but you say the sweetest things.”
I laugh, dipping my head.
“Are you blushing?” Her tone holds a note of amusement.
“No.” I laugh, palming her face.
She snorts into my hand. “I like that I can make you blush,” she admits and I drop my hand in time to read the seriousness in her expression.
“The night we met, you said you like the players, just not the game…” I trail off.
Recognition flares in her eyes and she groans. “I was an idiot. I was just…hurt about…stuff.”
“Phil,” I state.
She shrugs and slips inside the SUV. For a second, I think she’s going to shut me out but then she angles her body outwards, her feet resting on the running board.
“What happened, Abbi?”
She licks her lips and looks me in the eye. “We’re really doing this, huh?”
“Doing what?”
“Having this conversation.”
“I’d like to,” I say truthfully. “I want to know everything about you, Abbi. Everything you’re willing to share.”
She sighs, her eyes tender. “I don’t know what to do with you, Luca. You’re unlike any man I’ve ever met and—”
“I’ve heard this before,” I joke, swiveling my hips.
She snorts, shooting me a grateful look for the levity I’m apt to provide. “It scares me,” she admits on a whisper.
“Baby.” I lean even closer, my hand sliding off the top of the car to cup her cheek. “You don’t have to be scared. I just want to…know you, Abbi. Really know you. With no secrets and head games and bullshit.”
She nods slowly, biting the corner of her mouth. “I’d like that. It’s just…this is hard.”
“I get that,” I say, knowing exactly how she feels. Just a few weeks ago, I told her how much she scares me. “I don’t just let anyone meet my nieces and nephews.”
She laughs.
“No.” I touch her knee. “I’m serious. I know how I come off to people, fun-loving, outgoing, crazy Panda. But my family is my life, Abbi. And for most people, they don’t exist because I don’t share them.”
Her eyes widen as she realizes what I’m really telling her. I trust you. I want you in my life.
She takes the hand that’s holding her knee and laces our fingers together. Bringing our joined hands to her mouth, she kisses my knuckles.
“Phil was a football player,” she starts.
I swear, already disliking him. Abbi narrows her eyes.
I widen mine back. “Football? Really?”
She chuckles before her expression falls. “We worked together on outreach programs.”
I nod, remembering how Austin said Abbi did youth football outreach for the Kings. “So, you like athletes,” I surmise.
“Sometimes,” she shoots back, her voice sad. “I thought he was divorced.”
I close my eyes and sigh, knowing where she’s going with this. I’ve seen it happen a million times. Professional athlete with adoring fans, especially sexy, tempting female fans, who profess living one life while actually living another. You know, the one with a wife and kids at home that are conveniently overlooked.
“I remember when his marriage went south; it was all over the tabloids,” she adds defensively.
I nod, working a swallow. A sense of foreboding builds in my chest as a metallic taste fills my mouth.
“They were in marriage counseling. Not divorced at all,” she sighs. “Because he was well-known, divorce was being speculated. I mean, TMZ was all over it. His wife, Melanie, didn’t want to give the tabloids any information to use against them, so she begged him to just let things play out publicly while the two of them worked on their relationship privately. But at the time, I didn’t know any of that. He said yes to her so he could feed bullshit lies to me about how his marriage was already over, and divorce proceedings were underway.” Tears fills her eyes, and she blinks furiously. “Can you imagine how I felt when a few months pass and she’s pregnant? They’re on the front of People magazine with her hand on her adorable baby bump and him cradling her in his arms?” Her voice breaks and she clears her throat. “The whole thing was just awful, especially because Phil is the first man I really saw a future with after my college boyfriend, Kent, cheated on me with my sorority sister. He got her pregnant,” she snorts, tossing her hands in the air. “Apparently, that’s a theme in my life.”
“Shit,” I mutter, rubbing at my forehead with my free hand. “I’m sorry, baby. I can’t imagine dealing with all that…turmoil.”
She shakes her head. “That’s not the worst part.”
“What’s the worst part?” I ask, a thread of fear skating over my spine.
She pauses, blowing out a deep breath. Then she steels her shoulders, meets my gaze, and says, “There are photos. Of us. Me. That’s why Phil called me that night when I was at your place. He’s been…threatening to leak them.”