The Heart Chaser by Gina Azzi
Luca
Iwatch Abbi walk away with my heart in my throat. My hands curl into fists and a strange type of dread, similar to the flare of panic I felt when I learned about Pop’s heart attack, settles in my stomach.
I didn’t expect Aiden Hardsin to look like…well, a good-looking dude. Or to be so damn nice. I’ve heard about him for more than a year. As Indy’s best friend and Claire’s buddy to check out musical talent, Noah and Easton have referred to him on more than one occasion.
Every time, they have nothing but good things to say about the guy. That he’s a stand-up dude, genuinely likable, and chill. That smile he gave Abbi wasn’t chill or casual. No fucking way. He looked at my girl, at Abbi, like he couldn’t wait to wine and dine her.
And then what? Will she go home with him tonight?
I hop off the table, a restlessness running through my veins. I pace the gym floor, watching night fall through the old windows. I should go home. It’s supposed to start snowing soon.
Shit. If Abbi goes home with this guy, will she spend the whole weekend tangled up in his sheets, snowed in and happy about it? The thought unnerves me and I swear loudly, pulling out my phone.
The usual messages from my family members, voicing concerns and asking for advice, populate the home screen. I flip through them ensuring that nothing is urgent—nothing is—and dial Austin.
“Panda?” he answers.
“Where’s Indy’s friend taking her?” I demand.
“Jesus,” he groans and I can hear the frustration in his tone. “What happened to moving on?”
“I’m curious.”
“Aiden’s a good guy.”
“So I’ve heard,” I say dryly.
“If you’re not going to step up for her, you should be happy she’s dating a decent man.”
“Going on a date isn’t the same as dating. Where’s he taking her?”
Austin sighs. “Carter’s.”
I whistle. “So, he’s for real?”
“He’s for real,” Austin confirms, turning my frustration into concern.
What if Abbi likes Aiden and they hit it off? What if they become a couple, a we, that I have to see at functions and games and team events?
The thought hits me like a slapshot. Fuck. I fucked this up. I thought Abbi would react to my bullshit tonight. Give me some anger, give me some emotions, give me something to work with. Instead, she shot me down cold and walked away with her head held high. Right into the arms of charming, decent, likable Aiden.
“Either man up and do something about it or let her go. She’s deserves some peace after the shit she’s been through,” Austin says cryptically.
“What—” I start but he cuts me off.
“Sorry, Panda. You’ll have to talk to Abbi.” He clicks off and I stare at the phone in disbelief.
Cap just hung up on me? Is he serious? What the hell happened to bro code?
I pace the gym floor for a long moment, my thoughts wild, my emotions too jumbled to sort through. As my anger, toward Abbi, toward the situation, toward myself and my own shortcomings, heightens, I do something rash. Rash and stupid.
I pull out my phone and call Carmen.
“Hey, Panda,” she answers on the second ring.
“Hey. You busy tonight? Want to grab dinner?”
Carmen laughs. “Uh-oh. What’s wrong?”
I swear and grip the side of my neck, annoyed that my twenty-one-year-old pseudo sister can read me so easily. “Remember the girl from Jolene’s?”
“The one you couldn’t stop staring at?” Amusement laces Carmen’s tone and I wince.
“She has a date tonight,” I admit.
Carmen sucks in an inhale. “Luca Pandatelli, you cannot crash that girl’s date.”
“Why the hell not?”
Carmen groans. “You really like her, huh?”
“Obviously.”
“If you get a chance with her…”
“I’m not going to fuck it up,” I promise, hoping she’ll put me out of my misery and just come eat a damn steak with me at Carter’s.
“Fine. I’ll go.”
“Thank you,” I breathe out, relieved. “I’ll pick you up in ten.”
I end the call and pull on my winter parka. On the walk to my car, I call Carter’s for a last-minute reservation. Given the inclement weather advisory, I’m relieved they had a few cancellations and can squeeze me and Carmen in this evening.
I pull up to the curb in front of Carmen’s apartment and am relieved she’s already waiting outside.
She slides into the passenger seat and jabs a finger in my direction. “You owe me.”
I roll my eyes. “I picked your drunk ass up on your twenty-first birthday and didn’t tell your brother you puked in my car. I owe you shit.” I ease my SUV in the direction of the popular steakhouse.
Carmen snorts. “Fair. Then, we’re even. I don’t like doing shit like this. That girl—”
“Abbi.”
“Abbi looks really nice. And she kind of glared at you like you already messed things up with her.”
“I did.”
Carmen huffs and settles back in her seat. “You really think crashing her date is going to make her want to hear you out?” I hear the skepticism in her tone and bite back my smile.
“Absolutely not,” I admit, chuckling. “But I don’t care. I just need to see her.”
“Damn, Panda.” Carmen looks over, her eyes wide. “I’m definitely not telling my brother how whipped you are.”
I flip her my middle finger. “Appreciate that, kid. And thanks for coming tonight.”
“As if I’d miss a free dinner at Carter’s. I hope one of the guys from The Burnt Clovers are in town. They’re really blowing up and the last time my sorority sister Kelsey dined there, she met Derek Reiner. Can you believe that? She said…”
I half listen as Carmen rattles on and on about the best band to come out of Boston this decade. Will Abbi and Aiden already be cuddled up by the time we arrive? Will she be furious with me for showing up at Carter’s? Will she let Aiden kiss her?
These thoughts plague my mind until I valet at Carter’s, both impressed and annoyed that Carmen is still chattering about Derek Reiner, lead singer for The Burnt Clovers.
“Pandatelli. For two,” I tell the hostess as she escorts us to our table.
The entire time, my eyes scan the restaurant for a sign of Abbi. I spot her and Aiden talking animatedly about four tables over from where Carmen and I are seated.
I slip into my chair and pick up a menu, glancing over the top to keep an eye on Abbi. I frown, pressure building in my chest. She looks at ease around Aiden. Her eyes are bright and shining, her hands flying as she says something that makes him chuckle and lean forward in his seat. Their server drops off a bottle of wine and my stomach drops.
“…to drink?” Carmen asks.
“Huh?” I look at her.
“I’m thinking one of their signature cocktails. I promise I won’t puke in your car this time.”
I chuckle. “I’ll just grab a beer.”
“Stop staring so hard,” Carmen advises. “You look desperate.”
“I feel desperate,” I admit. Abbi looks gorgeous. Effortless. Even though I saw her an hour ago in a smelly high school gym, rocking the same black pants and silk blouse, in the environment of Carter’s, her demeanor has changed. Or is it because of him?
They cheers and I grip the underside of the table to keep myself rooted in my chair when I really want to vault myself over the table and claim Abbi the same way I did in July. Completely.
“Are you ready to order?” Our server appears.
Carmen rattles off her meal choice and I order a steak with potatoes and a Caesar salad.
I have no idea what the hell transpires over dinner. I keep one ear tuned into Carmen as she talks about her first week of classes, her family back home, and her sorority. Soon, her attention is snagged by a few well-known athletes dining at a back table and she whips out her phone to text her sorority sister, completely enthralled. I can relate, since I can’t tear my gaze from Abbi.
At one point, Abbi takes a sip of her wine, her fingers toying with the ends of her hair. It’s as if she can feel my gaze because she turns and our eyes connect. Hold. Hers widen, surprised before they narrow in…hurt? Anger? Disbelief?
Her gaze flickers to Carmen and an emotion I can’t name ripples over her face. The fact that she felt something gives me a glimmer of hope before Carmen murmurs across the table.
“What?” I ask her.
“She’s pissed at you,” Carmen explains, shaking her head. “And honestly, I would be too. Couldn’t you get one of your guy friends to come to dinner tonight?”
I remain silent, knowing that yeah, I could have. But I wanted to make Abbi jealous because I’ve been nothing but green with envy since she moved to Boston.
Carmen clucks her tongue. “You’re an idiot.”
Shit. By the way Abbi actively refuses to look in my direction for the rest of dinner, I know Carmen is right. I messed this up big time by letting my anger and jealousy fuel my actions. Now, I’m forced to watch as Abbi shamelessly flirts with Aiden, the two of their heads bent together like they’ve been dating for weeks and not mere minutes.
She likes him. I can tell by the way she smiles at him, laughs when he says something funny. I can tell by the way she avoids glancing in my direction of the room for the rest of the evening. When Aiden settles his bill, I ask for mine.
When he pulls out Abbi’s chair, I alert Carmen to the fact that we’re wrapping things up.
“Good, because this is starting to get awkward,” she responds.
“Thanks for coming tonight.”
“Panda, if you like this girl so much, why not just talk to her?” Carmen asks the obvious question.
“Because I’m an idiot,” I remind her.
“Well, you better smarten up because there’s no way in hell a girl like that”—Carmen flicks her fingers toward Abbi’s empty table—“will give this”—she taps a fingernail against our table top—“a real chance. She looks way too put together to put up with your head games.”
I swear softly and nod, knowing Carmen is right. I punch her lightly on the shoulder. “Thanks for the wisdom, kid.”
“Anytime. You and my brother are seriously clueless when it comes to women.”
I’m forced to agree as I watch Aiden’s fingers press into the small of Abbi’s back as he guides her toward the exit. He hovers over her shoulder and she smiles up at him like he hung the fucking moon instead of bought her a steak.
A desperate need to fix this, fix everything between Abbi and me, grips me. Carmen was right; I need to talk to her. I need to tell her that shutting her down was a massive mistake, one that I’ve regretted ever since she returned to Boston. I need to apologize for hurting her. Tonight. Now. Suddenly, it feels like I’ve run out of time and if I don’t see Abbi tonight, I’ll lose her forever.
The only good bit of fortune is that I messaged Torsten Hansen for Abbi’s address, under the bullshit lie that she needed help moving some furniture. So, sue me, okay? The important thing is that after I drop Carmen off at home, I head toward Abbi’s place.
I lope into the building, waving to reception as I pass. In a matter of seconds, I’m in the elevator, riding up to the fourteenth floor. My heart hammers in my head as nerves, excitement, and a healthy dose of fear shoot through me. Did she invite Aiden back to her place? Is she even home? Did she kiss him good night? Worse, are they…intimately together right now?
The thought makes me want to puke and I bang on the door with more force then necessary.
It swings wide open. Abbi stands on the other side of the threshold, an oversized sweater hanging off one shoulder, glaring at me. Her chest heaves with deep, angry breaths, and her face is red.
Is she crying?
I shuffle forward, my arm outstretched.
She swats my hand away and snarls, “I hate you, Luca Pandatelli.”