“Still in Sudbury. My dad still coaches hockey there. My mom had a hard time after Lori and I left home. She was a classic hockey mom—my hockey life was her life. Actually, it still is.” He made a face.
“I know what you mean! My parents still like to be involved in my career too. Like I said, I appreciate everything they did for me when I was a teenager to get me started, but I’m an adult now.”
“Are they here in Chicago? Or L.A.?”
“They’re here. We had a big, um, family discussion when I turned eighteen, because I wanted to live on my own and be responsible for myself. So kind of like your mom, my mom felt a little…I don’t know…abandoned? She moved back to Chicago, reluctantly. But I visit them a lot. In fact, I have a condo here.”
“You do? Huh.”
“I love coming here when I can. Life’s been hectic the last couple of years though.”
“I watched you on that awards show.”
“Yeah?” My insides squeezed up.
“You did fantastic. And congrats again on winning.”
“Thank you.” I dipped my head. “Confession? I was thrilled to win, but I’ve been feeling let down ever since then.”
He nodded slowly. “I guess that’s a normal reaction to a big adrenaline rush.”
I tilted my head to the side. “I guess, yeah. It makes me feel guilty though. Like I don’t appreciate what I have. But I really do.”
“You don’t come across as a spoiled diva.”
“Whew.” I made an exaggerated gesture of wiping my brow, and his eyes crinkled up at the corners attractively.
The waitress arrived with our food, and we spent a few minutes arranging things and retrieving cutlery and napkins.
“Oh my God, this smells so good.” The burger smelled amazing and the fries were hot and golden, laden with cheese curds and gravy.
“I’m glad they use real cheese curds,” Chase said. “Some places don’t.”
“You’re a poutine expert?”
“You bet.”
“You’re not French though.”
“No, but Sudbury is a bilingual city, so I grew up speaking French and English. And some Italian. My mom is Italian, has a big Italian family.”
“Hoy crap.” I regarded him wide-eyed. “You speak three languages?”
“Yeah. None of them very well.” He grinned. “I was always better at math than languages.”
I liked a little self-deprecating humor in a confident man. I also apparently liked a man who spoke three languages. “I suck at math.”
“You can probably pay for an accountant to count your money.”
“Ha ha. Yeah. I do have an accountant. And a manager.”
“So you have a concert in New York next week?”
“Yes. Monday night. It’s a televised thing. Mistletoe Magic. Lots of big names. It’s pretty exciting to be part of it.”
“And you’re flying there tomorrow?”
“Right.” I picked up a gravy-coated French fry on my fork and popped it in my mouth. “Yum.” I swallowed. “When do you play again?”
“Tuesday night in Ottawa.”
“Hockey teams play so many games.”
“Yeah. I love it.”
“It must be exhausting.” I rested my elbow on the table and set my chin on my hand.
“By the end of the season, yeah, we’re pretty bruised and bashed up and tired. Course if you make the playoffs it’s even harder.”
“Aces always make the playoffs.”
He smiled. “Since I’ve been with the team, we have. Still need that Cup though.”
I gave a firm nod. “It happened before. It’ll happen again.”
We were just finishing our food when a couple of people approached our table again to ask for Chase’s autograph. Word was out, apparently.
Then someone recognized me. “Oh my God! Jordyn Banks!” The girl’s eyes went wide, and she covered her mouth with her hands. “Oh my God! This is ‘the date’!”
I smiled at her, swallowing my laughter. We’d just about managed to pull this off.
“Can I get a picture with you?” the girl asked. She shoved her phone at the guy she was with. “Here.”
I had no idea if I had food in my teeth—hopefully not. I stood and moved beside her to pose for the picture.
“And with you, Chase!”
We both posed, and some other people came and asked for pictures and autographs. It was crazy but fun, and when I met Chase’s eyes we shared a moment of understanding and amusement. It was just one more thing I liked about him—that he wasn’t annoyed. Like me, he understood that without our fans we’d be nothing.
We spent probably half an hour doing that, until finally Chase flagged down the waitress and took care of our bill.
Guess our date was ending. I’d need to call my car service to come pick me up.
“Thanks, everyone.” Chase took control of the situation with a charming smile and confidence. “Jordyn and I have to get going. Nice to meet you all.”
He slid an arm around my waist and ushered me to the coat check. As when we’d arrived, he helped me into my coat. I added my hat, adjusted my scarf, and pulled my gloves out of my pocket while he got his jacket on, and then we walked outside.
It was snowing, gorgeous fluffy flakes that sparkled amid the city lights. I turned my face to it. “Snow!”
“Ah. No snow in L.A.”
“Nope.” I smiled at him, aware that people were watching us out the big plate-glass windows of Wonder Arcade. “Well. Thank you for a wonderful evening.”
“Oh hey, we’re not done yet.” His forehead creased. “Unless you really need to go home.”
“Oh. I just thought…no, it’s still early.” It was only around nine o’clock.
Only. We’d been together four hours, for goddess’s sake.
“I think you’re dressed okay for it,” he continued. “I thought we could walk along the Esplanade and then onto Michigan. If we can go all the way to Millennium Park they have the Christmas tree up.” He glanced down at my feet. “Are you okay to walk in those boots? Because I can call an Uber to take us there.”
My heart fluttered in my chest. Once again I don’t think he could have planned anything I’d love more.
I adored California—the ocean, palm trees, nearly endless sun. But I actually missed winters, and walking along the beautiful Esplanade sounded so delightful. “Yes, I’m fine. And I’d love that.”
“Great.” He pulled a knit cap out of his jacket pocket and tugged it down over his head, then held out his arm for me, like he had when we’d first met. The man had manners.
I slid my arm into his, and we started walking toward the river.
“People here call me crazy, but I miss the snow and the cold,” I said.
“Yeah, I’d call that crazy.” He said it teasingly.
“I guess it’s easy when I don’t have to put up with winter for months. But this is so pretty. Look at the snow. And it’s not really that cold.”
“It’s a nice night.”
It was relatively mild, with no wind. Luckily my coat and gloves were warm, and although my hat was more a fashion thing, it helped too.
Down on the Esplanade, it was chillier, but the evening felt calm and peaceful. The sounds of traffic were muted, and the clouds and snow kept it from being too dark.
He gestured across the river. “That’s where I live. That big building there.”
“Oh, nice! What a stellar location.”
“Yeah, I like it.”
“So hockey must be what you’ve always wanted to do. Or did you decide late in life you wanted to be a hockey player?”
“Ha. I don’t think it was really my decision.”
“What?”
“My parents put me into hockey when I was six years old. It was just the way it was. One time I tried to quit.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” He shrugged but I felt the tension in him. “It didn’t go well. So I kept playing.”
“But…you must love it.”
“Yeah, yeah, I do. There was a time I wasn’t so sure. But I kept going, and I turned out to be pretty good at it, so here I am.” Then he sighed.
I sucked briefly on my bottom lip. Was he discouraged because he hadn’t scored yet this season? I’d heard some of the talk about him and how he was playing on TV. I decided not to bring it up. “I’d say you’re pretty good at it, yeah.” I squeezed his arm. “You’re playing in the NHL.”
“What about you? You always wanted to be a singer?”