Save the Date (Chicago on Ice Series Book 3)

by Aven Ellis

  I stay in my stance as the next jump nears and, once again, we soar over the obstacle. We run the course flawlessly, clearing all the gates and jumps.

  I turn Major and take him around the ring for his cool down. Afterward, I trot toward Luca, who is smiling broadly as I approach him. I pull Major to a stop in front of Luca.

  “There you go,” I say, flashing Luca a smile. “You just saw the equestrian side of my life.”

  “Collins, I don’t even know what to say,” Luca says. “I can’t believe you were out there jumping like that. That was amazing. Seriously amazing.”

  “Thank you,” I say. “Hold on, I’ll come around.”

  I dismount Major, take his reins in my hand, and lead him out of the arena. Luca heads toward me, and I come to a stop in front of him.

  “Thank you for wanting to see that,” I say. “It means a lot to me.”

  “Why wouldn’t I? That was awesome. You’re a fantastic rider, Collins. This whole afternoon—spending it learning about you and Major—I couldn’t have asked for a better day. Thank you for sharing it with me.”

  My heart is racing again, and not from just having ridden a course.

  “I’m glad you came, Luca,” I say.

  “Collins?”

  “Yes?”

  Luca pauses for a moment. “What if I told you I wasn’t ready for the day to end?”

  I hold my breath as I wait for him to continue.

  “You aren’t?”

  “No,” he says. “I’m not.”

  Oh!

  “Collins, will you have dinner with me tonight?” Luca asks. “I want more time with you.”

  I know I’m beaming. I don’t have to say a word for Luca to know my answer, but I respond anyway.

  “Yes,” I tell him. “I’d love to.”

  And as we walk back toward the stables, I can’t wait to continue our date tonight over dinner.

  Chapter 8

  Always anticipate problems . . .

  As Luca holds my hand in his, I still can’t believe I’m doing this. I’m walking down the street in the historic Wicker Park neighborhood I call home, strolling past quaint brownstones, on our way to an Italian restaurant to have dinner.

  I’m going on a real-life date.

  With Luca Ballerini.

  I haven’t been on a first date in years. In college, I was with Gabe, and after I ended things with him, I needed time to clear my head. I needed to focus on myself and think about what I wanted out of life. I had to determine what had been missing in my relationship with Gabe to make me want to end things.

  I vowed to never get seriously involved with a man unless there was potential for a future. I couldn’t bear to hurt anyone ever again like I hurt Gabe.

  Keeping my promise hasn’t been a problem these past few months. I wasn’t looking to meet guys. I was busy with work and finding a place I could afford in the city. I spent my free time riding and caring for Major, hanging out with Livy and Aubrey, and going to Minneapolis to spend time with Taylor.

  Meeting Luca has upended everything I had planned for my dating life. I’ve never met a man like him. He’s mature beyond his years. He’s driven. He knows what he wants and he goes for it. Plus, Luca instinctively seems to understand me, and I him.

  I took a chance inviting him to the stables today and letting him be a part of the world that means more to me than anything else.

  But he got it. Not only was Luca interested in my equestrian life, he embraced it.

  Now, I’m taking another chance. To see if our evening will be as good as our day was.

  My heart tells me it will be.

  Luca turns his attention toward me, and when he catches me staring at him, a beautiful smile lights up his face.

  “Caught ya staring,” he teases.

  I laugh. “Yes, you did.”

  “I wouldn’t be a good goalie if I weren’t always aware of what was going on around me,” Luca says. “It’s only fair because I was about to steal another glance at you, too. I know I told you this before, but you look stunning this evening, Collins.”

  As if to emphasize the point, he squeezes my hand in his.

  My cheeks grow warm. “Thank you.”

  I know I chose well for dinner the second Luca greeted me at the door. I have a thing for vintage dresses. I love wearing them, even more than jeans. Tonight, I picked out my favorite one: a 1950s black, sheath dress with spaghetti straps. I paired it with a delicate silver lariat necklace that has stirrup pendants that Livy designed for me. Black, pointed-toe pumps and a blush-pink trench coat finish the look. The first thing Luca said to me was that I looked stunning in my outfit.

  I smile. I love that he appreciates my vintage sense of style. I don’t dress like everyone else, and Luca seems to like that about me.

  “Luca?” I ask as we walk.

  “Hmm?”

  “Just so you know, you look quite dashing this evening.”

  A smile lights up his face. Luca loves my appearance tonight, and I appreciate his equally as well. He changed out of his flannel shirt and into a pale-blue dress shirt, layered with a navy-blue blazer, and jeans, for a more sophisticated look this evening.

  I love the fact that he dressed up for me. It says a lot that he took time and effort to dress for our date tonight.

  “You ready for the season, Ballerini?” a male voice shouts from across the street, interrupting my thoughts.

  Luca’s head turns in the direction of the sound. I follow his gaze and see a group of five twenty-something guys snapping our picture with cell phones. The guy who yelled at Luca is wearing a Chicago Buffaloes hoodie and is obviously a fan.

  “Preparing every day,” Luca yells back. Then he shifts his attention back to me. “Sorry. It’s hard for me to go out without being noticed.”

  I can’t help but laugh. “Yes, your being six-four probably makes you stand out a wee bit.”

  “That and my dashing good looks,” Luca says, raising his eyebrows at me.

  Yes, that too.

  We enter an area filled with restaurants, boutiques, bars, and coffee houses.

  “This is why I love living here,” I say, pausing as we walk under an elevated train that rumbles noisily overhead.

  “Because you like shouting over trains?” Luca teases.

  “No,” I say, shaking my head. “I love having all these things within walking distance. Wicker Park has such an eclectic variety of restaurants. I’m not a very good cook, and by the time I come home, I don’t usually want to, so it’s easy to get something good to eat here.”

  “You don’t cook?” Luca asks.

  “Ohmygod!” a girl blurts out as she walks toward us. “You’re Luca Ballerini! Ohmygod, I freaking love you!”

  “Um, thank you,” Luca says.

  The girl’s mouth drops open, staring at Luca as if he’s a mannequin that just came to life.

  “He spoke to me. Shit, I’m dead! Luca Ballerini spoke to me!”

  Luca leads me past her, but I can still hear her fangirling behind us. I turn and glance over my shoulder, and she’s practically hyperventilating over the fact that Luca spoke to her.

  Hmm. I totally get that, I think, grinning.

  “I’m sorry. I’m still getting used to this, to be honest,” he says apologetically.

  I turn back around and see a thoughtful expression on his face.

  “It has to be hard.”

  From what I read about him online last night, Luca moved from a minor league team in Milwaukee to the Buffaloes last spring and was an instant success. Lots of stories were written about how he could be the next great American-born goalie, how the Buffaloes brought him up in their system, and he was the future in the net.

 
Now, Luca has to adjust to the fans. Of course, I know he had them in the minor league, but it’s different now that he is in one of the top media markets in the United States. He’s famous here, probably more so because he’s a local boy, born and raised in the Chicago suburbs. What a tremendous amount of pressure to be under heading into the season, which starts this month.

  “Here we are,” Luca says, stopping in front of an Italian restaurant. “Have you been here before? I love this place.”

  “No, I haven’t,” I say.

  “Wow. That’s kind of surprising, considering they have carry out and delivery,” he says wickedly.

  “You’re cute when you’re evil,” I say.

  Luca holds open the door for me. “You think I’m cute?”

  “Very,” I say without hesitation.

  We step inside the restaurant, which has a cozy neighborhood feeling. There aren’t many tables, but there is a large bar where people are eating and drinking. The lighting is dim, and a huge exposed-brick wall adds old-world charm.

  Luca gives his name for the reservation, and we’re escorted to a table toward the back of the restaurant. I begin to take off my coat, and I feel Luca move behind me to help. A shiver races down my spine from his nearness. I’m very aware of his body, inches from mine, and the scent of his cologne washes over me once again.

  He gently drapes my coat over the back of my chair then pulls it out for me.

  “Thank you,” I say, sitting down.

  “You’re welcome,” Luca says, sitting across from me.

  Menus are placed in front of us, but instead of looking over the options, I find myself staring across the table at Luca. As Frank Sinatra croons in the background, I study how the candlelight once again flickers across his handsome face and how beautiful and unique his wavy hair is with its streaks of red.

  Our server stops by and goes over the specials, and Luca asks for a moment to study the wine menu.

  “Do you like wine?” he asks, flipping open the black leather book.

  “You’re surprising,” I say aloud.

  Luca glances up from the wine list, his eyes meeting mine.

  “How so?”

  “You act more like you’re thirty-one than twenty-one.”

  A crease forms in Luca’s brow. “Did you Google me? I didn’t tell you my age.”

  “Of course I Googled you, and I’m guessing you Googled me after you saw my picture on Livy’s website, am I right?”

  A slight blush sweeps across his strong cheekbones, and oh, how I love it!

  “Maybe,” he says slowly.

  “Maybe is a lie,” I counter.

  Luca grins. “Okay, yeah, I did, which means we both know you’re older than me.”

  “Obviously, you don’t have a problem with older women.”

  Luca laughs. “I don’t consider twenty-three a huge difference.”

  “With a lot of twenty-one-year-old men, it would be,” I say. “Because of the maturity gap. But not you. You act older.”

  “You’re getting dangerously close to the truth.”

  “What?”

  “I swear I was born old. I’ve always been responsible. Mature. I think that has helped me a lot in achieving my goals in hockey. I wasn’t distracted by a lot of stuff my friends were. I was always more interested in becoming the best goalie I could be. I was going to make it to the league and play professionally. That’s all that mattered. Until now.”

  My heart leaps. “Until now?”

  “Until now,” he says softly.

  Ooh!

  Suddenly, his phone starts ringing. Luca retrieves it and glances down at the number.

  “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to take this,” Luca says apologetically. “It’s a radio station. They’re having a tough time trying to schedule my call with them this week. I’ll be right back.”

  Luca stands up and walks away, and I’m left replaying what he just said to me.

  Until now.

  Could I be the one thing he’s taken an interest in beside hockey?

  “Fancy seeing you here, Collins.”

  I freeze in my chair. My stomach drops. I know that voice.

  It’s Gabe’s.

  I force myself to turn around and face him. I haven’t seen Gabe since we broke up and I cut off all communication with him. He’s thinner. Guilt eats at me as I wonder if his weight loss is my fault. Nausea rolls in my stomach. I swallow it down as I stare into Gabe’s blue eyes, the eyes of the man I dated for years. The man I shared laughter with and lost my virginity to. The man I kissed and woke up next to. The man I shared dates and went on trips with.

  Gabe was the man who wanted forever with me.

  Gabe was the man who was perfect on paper, but I couldn’t bring myself to want to love forever.

  I understand now what was missing.

  I never felt the same connection to him that I already do with Luca.

  But why is he here? Panic rises in equal measure with my sickness. I should have anticipated this. Gabe lives in Ukraine Village, which is close to Wicker Park. I should have steered Luca away from my neighborhood when picking a restaurant. My event planner skills apparently went dead when it came to anticipating a problem in my personal life.

  “Gabe,” I say, forcing his name out.

  “I was picking up a pizza when I saw you sitting over here,” Gabe says, his eyes searching mine. “I hate the fact that as soon as I saw you everything came back. Everything. You destroyed me, Collins. I’m still messed up because of you.”

  A lump forms in my throat. “I’m sorry,” I say, my voice thick. “But I can’t feel something I don’t. I never wanted to hurt you. Ever.”

  “You dated me for years, so how the hell did you not know I wasn’t the one?” Gabe spits out, his voice still raw with hurt.

  “We were young,” I say, trying to keep from crying, “and I made mistakes. But people break up, Gabe. They do. I’m sorry I hurt you, but you have to move on to someone who will truly love you. It can’t be me.”

  “You’re sorry? You’re sorry you ruined me? I feel sorry for the next man you destroy. I’m not the only one you’ll mess up. There’s something wrong with you, you know that?”

  “You need to leave,” I say, holding back tears.

  “Well, there’s no point in begging you to reconsider because you were never in the relationship in the first place, were you? My friends say I’m luckier without you, but that’s not true. I’d be luckier if I never met you, Collins.”

  He turns around and storms off, passing Luca who is returning to the table.

  I stare at Luca, the man who has entered my life so unexpectedly, and realize I could hurt him like I hurt Gabe. Pain grips me at the thought. Luca has just reached his dream. He has the whole world within his grasp. What if I ruin things for him? Upset him? Distract him? Playing goalie is a huge mental game, Luca told me that this afternoon.

  What if Gabe is right?

  What if I somehow destroy him, too?

  I can’t. I can’t. Luca is too good of a man, and I won’t do that to him.

  I grab my coat and stand up, and Luca stares at me with an expression of shock on his face.

  “Collins? What are you doing?” Luca asks, his voice filled with concern.

  I grab my purse and put on my mask, the one I have learned to wear around others when I’m upset, and force myself to face him.

  “Luca, I know you won’t understand, but I think it’s best that we don’t do this,” I say. “I’m so sorry. I know this is confus—”

  “What?” Luca asks, incredulous. “Collins, what the hell went wrong? What happened when I left the table?”

  “Reality,” I say, my voice wobbling despite my best efforts. “We can�
�t start this. I can’t. I’m so sorry, Luca. More than you know.”

  I rush past him, heading out into the streets of Wicker Park.

  I know I am leaving more than Luca behind in that restaurant.

  The tears falling from my eyes tell me I am leaving a piece of my heart in there, too.

  Chapter 9

  Nothing ever goes smoothly . . .

  “Collins!”

  I freeze the second I hear Luca shouting after me. I should have known he wouldn’t let this go. Luca is one of the most determined people I have ever met.

  My mask didn’t work with him the first night we met.

  It’s not going to work now.

  Not with this man.

  Despite knowing I should walk away, I recognize Luca is someone who would be willing to fight to get to know the real me. He won’t be content with me hiding how I feel. He doesn’t care if things are messy or imperfect.

  My throat swells with emotion as I hear my name again.

  “Collins!”

  Normally, I’d take a moment to wipe my tears, fix my mask, and face him. I would tell him goodbye and go home, never to be seen again, and most people would buy the act.

  But Luca won’t.

  Maybe it’s time to quit acting and let Luca decide for himself if he wants to still see me after finding out what happened with Gabe.

  I slowly turn around and see Luca running toward me. Within seconds, he has his hands on my arms. I don’t resist him.

  “I waited months for the opportunity to get to know you,” he says fiercely, his eyes desperately searching mine. “I’m not letting you walk out on me. Not now. I don’t care what bullshit line you just gave me. I know you don’t want to leave. Tell me what happened to make you put on this mask, Collins. I know it’s a mask because I wear one, too. Mine might be high-tech and made for hockey, but we both use a mask to protect ourselves. Except yours is a brave face and a smile. What made you run? What are you protecting yourself from?”