Chapter 8
Zane
I’m two minutes away from Gwen’s apartment when I take a deep breath. I’m relieved she agreed to another date, but I also know I have a lot to prove to her. She doesn’t see herself the way I see her.
When we arrive, she’s already waiting outside her building. She looks incredible.
“Hey,” I say, quickly stepping out of the car. “You look amazing.” My eyes briefly drift over her before I catch myself and return to her face.
“Thanks,” she smiles. “I wasn’t sure what to wear.”
“Well, this works for me,” I chuckle.
“Where are we going?” Gwen asks, smiling as cars pass behind us.
“We’re having dinner at the Black Pearl Restaurant, and after that, we’re going to the Wild Rose bookstore,” I tell her, watching her reaction closely.
It shifts from shock to excitement, then back to shock.
“Wild Rose will be closed after dinner, I think,” she says hesitantly.
I don’t answer right away. Instead, I smile and let her wonder.
Wendy, the owner of Wild Rose, is my sister's friend. I already texted her to open the store for us. Gwen doesn’t know it yet, but she’s going book shopping.
“This is us,” I say as my usual driver pulls up.
I open the door for Gwen and let her get in first.
“Hey, Josh,” I greet as I slide in on the other side. “Could you take us to Black Pearl Restaurant, please?”
Josh confirms the destination.
“Do you know every taxi driver in this city?” Gwen laughs, and I chuckle with her.
“Josh is my driver. I’m one of his favorite clients. Right, Josh?” I ask.
“My favorite ice hockey player client, sure,” he replies with a laugh, glancing at Gwen through the rearview mirror and giving her a wink.
“Of course you have a driver,” she sighs, smiling.
“Do you drive?” I ask, shifting the conversation.
“I drive the delivery van for our bakery sometimes,” she says. “When we have events or special orders like wedding cakes.”
The way she talks about the bakery pulls something in me. I already knew from Leo that Tess is passionate, but hearing Gwen talk about it makes it clear this place means just as much to her.
“That’s incredible. I’m sure you’re always busy,” I say.
She nods, a hint of pride in her expression. “You haven’t tried enough of our pastries yet. Maybe you should come by more often.”
I smile. “I’d like that.”
A few minutes later, we arrive at the restaurant. I step out and open the door for her.
“Are you ready?” I ask.
“Born ready,” she replies with a grin.
The restaurant is packed. The moment we step inside, a few heads turn in our direction. I try to ignore it, but the familiar weight of attention settles in. I force myself to focus on Gwen instead.
“If you feel uncomfortable at any point, let me know, ok?” I ask.
“As long as you do the same,” she replies, and I smile.
“Do you come here often?” she asks.
“This is my favorite restaurant in all of Chicago. It was the first place I came to after the Grizzlies drafted me. Maybe it’s nostalgia, but the food is incredible too, I promise,” I say, a hint of pride in my voice as she scans the menu.
“This is going to be hard,” Gwen chuckles. “Everything on here sounds good.”
“Then we order everything,” I say lightly.
She looks up at me, surprised.
“Ok, not everything,” I add with a small laugh. “But I know the chef. Maybe we can ask him to put together a tasting platter or something.”
“Isn’t that a lot of extra work for them?” she asks.
Something about that question softens me even more toward her. How is that the first thing she thinks of?
“You’re a special woman,” I say.
She tilts her head slightly, as if trying to read what I mean.
I want to say more, but the waitress approaches before I get the chance.
“Good to see you, Zane. Can I get you anything?” Alyssa asks. She works here, and I’ve been here enough times that she knows my name.
“I’ll have a beer, please.” I turn to Gwen. “Do you like cocktails?”
She hesitates briefly, then nods. “Depends on the cocktail, but usually, yes.”
“Alyssa makes a great paloma. Do you know that one?”
Gwen nods.
“A beer for you, and a paloma for the lady?” Alyssa confirms.
Gwen’s shoulders relax slightly.
“Sounds good,” she says softly.
Alyssa hasn’t been gone for more than ten seconds when Bill, the restaurant’s chef, approaches our table.
“Rumor has it the best player on the Grizzlies is in the house. Do you know where he is?” Bill asks me, making Gwen laugh.
“Good to see you too,” I reply, standing to hug him.
“And who is this special lady?” Bill asks, turning toward Gwen.
“This is Gwen. I finally convinced her to let me take her on a date, so naturally I had to bring her here,” I say as Bill reaches out his hand.
“Blink twice if you need help,” he jokes as he introduces himself to her.
“This place looks incredible,” Gwen says, glancing around the room again.
“Have you seen anything on the menu you like?” Bill asks her.
She nods right away. “Honestly, everything looks great.”
“Gwen is a baker. She works at Sunrise & Salt,” I add.
“No way! I get my morning coffee and croissant from there every Tuesday and Thursday,” he says enthusiastically.
“I thought you looked familiar,” Gwen replies, sitting up a little straighter, her confidence growing.
“I was just telling Gwen that we might want a tasting plate since everything looks so good,” I explain.
“Perfect. Only the best for the best,” Bill says.
“You really don’t have to. I can just pick something from the menu,” Gwen says politely.
“Gwen, this man right here,” Bill says, slapping my shoulder lightly, “has never brought a girl here before. The menu isn’t special enough for someone like you. Do you trust me?”
“Of course,” Gwen replies without hesitation.
“Then get ready. Your first dish will be out in five,” Bill says before heading back toward the kitchen.
“That almost sounded like a threat,” Gwen laughs as she watches the kitchen doors close behind him.
“Bill’s a great guy. Leo actually introduced me to him. I used to come here more often than I do now.”
“Why?” Gwen asks, leaning slightly forward across the table.
“Maybe I just never had anyone special enough to bring here,” I say, and I catch the faint blush rising in her cheeks.
Alyssa places our drinks on the table, and we each take a sip while taking in the rest of the restaurant. It’s busy tonight, yet somehow it still feels personal.
“You were right about the drink. This is amazing,” Gwen says, taking another sip.
“I’m glad you like it,” I smile. “I hate to sound cliché, but… tell me more about yourself.”
For a moment, she seems hesitant. Then she relaxes, sits back, and lets the conversation flow.
Gwen tells me how she ended up in Chicago, what it was like starting at the bakery, and how she can’t stand Leo but still loves him like a brother. I agree with her on that.
In return, I tell her about the first time I ever played ice hockey, about Blake, and about the countries on my travel bucket list.
“We had fish, mini burgers, pumpkin soup, sweet potato fries, something I still can’t pronounce, and chocolate cake,” Gwen lists as we finish the last of our bites. “I don’t remember the last time I was this full, but oh my God, this was incredible.”
“What was your favorite?” I ask, leaning in and resting my hand over hers.
She glances at it briefly, then looks back at me with a smile.
“The burgers. No, wait, the cake. Or maybe the soup. I really loved everything,” she says, and I laugh.
In this lighting, the blouse she’s wearing has become my new favorite color, especially with the way her eyes are shining, bright with happiness in a way that pulls at me.
“Are you ready for the next part of our date?” I ask, my tone light but eager. I’ve been waiting all night to take her to the bookstore.
“Next part? If you mean the store, it’s closed by now,” Gwen says, glancing at the clock on the wall.
“Trust me,” I reply, signaling Alyssa for the bill.
When we step outside, the night air hits cold, sharp, unmistakably Chicago.
“Are you going to be ok walking in this cold?” I ask as Gwen zips up her coat.
“Chicago’s got nothing on me,” she laughs, a playful edge in her voice.
“Alright, good. But if you change your mind, let me know, and I’ll call Josh,” I suggest.
She nods.
We walk for about five minutes before reaching the entrance of Wild Rose. Wendy has clearly outdone herself. I definitely owe her for this.
LED candles glow softly throughout the bookstore, and when I open the door for Gwen, Lana Del Rey drifts through the speakers.
“Oh my God… is this for us?” Gwen asks in awe, taking in the space.
“It’s for you,” I reply, taking her coat from her. “Wendy is a friend of my sister’s and the owner of the store. On our fake first date, you mentioned Rina Kent. Her next book releases in four days, but I asked Wendy for a favor.”
I nod toward the counter. “There’s a signed copy of Rina’s newest book waiting for you.”
Gwen’s eyes begin to well up.
“You did this for me?” she asks as a tear slips down her cheek.
“Only the best for you,” I say softly, stepping closer and gently brushing the tear away with my thumb.
“The moment we met, I knew you were someone special, Gwen. Call it love at first sight, call it butterflies, call it crazy, I like you. A lot,” I tell her.
Another tear follows, trailing down her cheek.
“I’m not used to… this,” Gwen says, gesturing around the store before pointing at me. “Thank you for being so nice to me.”
It pains me to think she’s been hurt before. The way she reacts to basic kindness makes it seem like it’s rare for her.
“I love this song,” I say as Kacey Musgraves begins playing through the speakers.
“You like Kacey Musgraves?” Gwen asks, surprised.
“Not really,” I admit, taking a step closer. “But Butterflies was the first song I heard after we met on the ice. I’ve been listening to it ever since.”
“Are you from a movie or a book or something?” Gwen chuckles. “This feels unreal,” she adds with a soft sigh.
Slowly, I close the distance between us and place my hand on her cheek. She doesn’t pull away. That’s all the encouragement I need.
I lean in, catching the soft scent of her perfume, vanilla. It lingers, pulling at me. The warmth of her body meets mine as I close my eyes and gently press my lips to hers.
“Does it feel real now?” I ask quietly when I pull back and meet her eyes.
“Not at all,” she laughs.
I lean in again and kiss her once more. I could stay here all night, lost in her, but I don’t want to overstep Wendy’s kindness.
“Care to go book shopping, Ms. Sassypants?” I ask.
Gwen laughs and shakes her head. “Definitely.”
She heads straight for the dark romance section, moving like she already knows the place by heart. I watch her in quiet awe, impressed by how certain she is, how effortlessly she knows what she wants. She pulls out three books and holds them against her side.
“Don’t you want a book?” she asks when she notices me watching her.
“Only if you wrote it,” I reply.
I immediately regret how soft that sounds, but with her, I can’t help it.
Gwen laughs and rolls her eyes. In her mind, she’s probably calling me something like “dummy” or “nerd,” and I wouldn’t even blame her.
She browses for about ten more minutes before walking up to the counter.
“I can’t believe this is a signed copy. Rina Kent actually touched this. Can you believe that?” she asks, staring at the book in awe.
“I’m glad you like it.”
“How do I pay for the books?” she asks, glancing around the store as if expecting an employee to appear.
“I asked Wendy to send me a bill afterward. I told her I’d take a picture of the books you chose so she could ring them up later,” I explain. “She also said she predicted you’d pick out eleven books.”
I chuckle.
“I already think these four are too much,” Gwen says shyly, looking down at the stack on the counter. I quickly snap a photo of them.
“Definitely not. Just buy me a pastry next time I’m at Sunrise & Salt,” I joke.
“That’s not fair, I get an employee discount there,” she shoots back, making me laugh.
She really is something.
“I’m really happy you found books you like,” I say, stepping a little closer. I want to kiss her again, but I hold back, not wanting to rush her.
“Thanks for today,” Gwen says softly. “I know we didn’t have the best start, but this is the best second first date I’ve ever been on.”
Before I can respond, she steps forward, wraps her arms around my neck, and pulls me into a hug. The warmth of her against me settles something in my chest that I don’t want to let go of.
“This is the best second first date I’ve ever been on, too,” I tell her when she slowly pulls away. “Are you sure you’re done shopping?”
“I’m sure,” she says confidently, picking up her stack of books.
“Let me carry those for you,” I offer, and she smiles like I’ve just done something meaningful.
“Can I walk you home?” I ask, reaching out my hand.
“That would be great,” she replies, placing her hand in mine.