Nate
My eyes are glued to my phone. Elena's seen my text—those three little dots have appeared and disappeared twice already. Maybe she’s not ready to talk yet after that photo bullshit. Maybe pointing at her during the game was too much. The screen finally lights up with her response, and relief floods my body.
"Absolutely. Where are you taking me?"
My fingers hover over my phone, suddenly unsure. I want this to be perfect.
"Wherever you want to go, I'm there." I send it quickly before I can overthink. I’d rather let her choose in this scenario. I want her to be one-hundred percent comfortable.
Her response comes faster this time: "The Palmer House."
My mouth goes dry. The Palmer House. Where I first saw her across that crowded bar. Where I pretended to be her boyfriend to scare off that persistent asshole. Where everything between us started.
"Perfect. 20 minutes?" I type.
"See you there."
I set the phone down, a smile stretching across my face. I can’t wait to see her.
Luckily, I’ve already showered and am dressed in a pair of black jeans and a button-down with the sleeves rolled up. I head out to the Palmer House, knowing I’m going to be a little early, but that’s okay. I take a deep breath.Keep it together, Barnes.
The Palmer House lobby gleams with its usual old-world elegance—polished marble, ornate ceilings, buttery leather chairs. I make my way to the bar and choose a small table near the back wall. The bartender recognizes me, nodding as he brings over a Don Julio neat without me asking. Hockey players tend to be remembered, especially in Chicago.
"Waiting for someone?" he asks.
"Yeah." I find myself smiling again. "She should be here soon."
“Do you know what she’d like to drink?” he asks.
“I’m guessing she’d also like one of these.” I tap my glass and the bartender nods and walks away.
He leaves me with my drink, and I try not to stare at the entrance but I fail miserably. When Elena finally walks in, everything else blurs. Her wavy hair falls loose around her face, and she's scanning the room.
I stand, and her gaze finds mine. The smile that spreads across her face melts my insides immediately.
"Hi," she says, reaching the table.
"Hi." I resist the urge to pull her into my arms. Instead, I brush my fingers against hers as she sits, that small contact has to be enough for now.
"You look beautiful," I tell her as I sit down again.
"Thanks. You look good, too." Her eyes travel over me, lingering on my forearms. I knew rolling up my sleeves was the right call.
The bartender returns with the drink I ordered for Elena.
“You read my mind,” she says, picking up the glass and clinking it against mine, before taking a small sip.
"That was quite a game tonight," she says.
I lean forward, elbows on the table. "I had no idea you'd be there."
"Reese wanted to go. Apparently she has a thing for McCoy these days." Elena raises her eyebrows slightly.
"McCoy, huh? I'll have to tell him tomorrow that he has an admirer."
"Don't you dare." She points a warning finger at me. "She'll kill me."
The soft lighting catches the amber highlights in her dark hair, and I'm struck by how fucking lucky I am to be sitting here with her.
