Trivial Pursuits (Chicago On Ice Book 2) (23 page)

Chapter 28

TriviaPlayOrPass!

True or False: The dumpling is a standard item on dim sum menus.

“I can’t wait to see you in action,” I say to Landon.

He grins as we drive toward the Buffaloes practice facility. It’s Thursday night, and Landon is doing a private autograph signing for one hundred lucky fans drawn at random in a contest. The event is sponsored by the Buffaloes fan shop, The Lodge, inside the complex.

“Why, because I’m good at selfies?” Landon teases, keeping one hand laced over mine as he drives his Ferrari.

“While you are indeed the master of selfies,” I say, “I’m not so much excited about that but rather seeing how much happiness you are going to bring to the fans tonight. And I promise I’ll stay out of the way.”

“Sweetheart, you aren’t going to be in the way.”

I squeeze his hand affectionately. “Well, regardless, you won’t know I’m there.”

Landon stops at a red light. “Oh, no. I’ll be very aware of you being there.”

“How so?” I ask, laughing.

“Because I’ll smell your vanilla and caramel scent,” Landon says, lowering his head toward mine, “the perfume that lingers on my sheets when you’re gone.”

Then he brushes his lips against mine in a slow, sexy kiss.

“Mmm,” I murmur happily. “I’m glad you aren’t going on the road for the next few days.”

“Me, too,” Landon says, breaking the kiss. “And I’m glad you’re here tonight. I know you have work to do.”

I nod happily. “I do. I received a lot of orders after Pucks, Pinot, and Purses in addition to the items I sold there.”

The event was a huge success for me. I was featured in a Chicago fashion blog the next day, which lead to increased traffic on my website and Etsy shop. The Chicago sports channel Total Access Total Sports was there to shoot the event, and that will air next week, which will give me more exposure. The show will then go to the network’s website, where more people might see it.

“Who knows, you might be moving out faster than you think,” Landon suggests as the light turns green.

I burst out laughing. “Landon, my precious Zinger, do you know how much the average apartment costs in Chicago? I’m still hauling in kibble.”

Landon’s face lights up as soon as the words “precious Zinger” escape my lips.

“Maybe you could get a roommate,” Landon suggests, merging into the lane he needs to turn into the Buffaloes complex.

“Well, Collins is the only candidate for that, and she shouldn’t make any changes right now,” I say, thinking of how upside down her life is at the moment.

“So you think Collins would be a good roommate?” Landon asks, turning into the facility and heading toward the player parking lot.

“Oh, absolutely,” I say honestly.

But I think I’d rather live with you.

“Trouble.”

Gah, Livy, what are you doing?
I scold myself with my own voice and the song. Things are going great with Landon, I’m in love, but isn’t that jumping ahead? Moving in after a little more than a month?

And Landon hasn’t said, “I love you.”

I turn and study the cars as Landon eases his Ferrari toward his assigned space. I know Landon will get to where I’m at. It’s just going to take him longer. After all, he’s never been in a relationship before, let alone fallen in love. That takes time.

I glance back at Landon as he parks his car.
And I will wait for your heart to get there
.
We have all the time in the world. And I will happily wait if that means I get forever with you.

“All right, let the madness begin,” Landon says, turning off the engine.

I unhook my seatbelt and get out of the car, and Landon does the same. It was a nice, mild day, but now the spring air has a chill to it. Landon slips into his black leather jacket, the one that looks oh so classic over his white T-shirt.

“Hey,” I say. “I just realized something. Why do you always wear a white T-shirt for signings?”

“Ah, you noticed that, did you, my little Dim Sum?”

I burst out laughing. “
Dim Sum?
You don’t even like Chinese food!”

“Yeah, it’s annoying with all those cooked vegetables,” Landon says.

“You’re so weird,” I say as we walk toward the building.

“So are you, and that’s why you like me,” Landon says, sliding an arm around me and drawing me to his chest so he can kiss the top of my head.

I breathe him in, the wonderful scent of leather and vanilla, and feel happiness flutter through me.

“But to answer your question,” Landon says, “I do purposefully wear a white T-shirt. One, it looks good in pictures. Second reason: Girls like the tattoos.”

I stop walking and grin at him. “Oh, Landon. You devil. You do understand your demographic, don’t you?”

Landon flashes me a sexy smile. “My marketing team does. And it makes no difference to me, so if girls want to see them, that’s fine. Only one woman gets to
touch
them, however.”

Then he winks at me.

Ohhhhhh God.

They always say there is some point where the butterflies stop in a relationship, but I can’t imagine them ever flying away with Landon.

We go around to the back of the store, where Landon was told to enter. Once we are there we are greeted by the PR director for the Chicago Buffaloes, Jordan Nelson.

“Hey, Landy, you ready? Your fans sure are!” Jordan says, smiling at Landon.

“Yeah, I’m excited,” Landon says, his eyes sparkling.

My heart warms. I know Landon means it. He loves interacting with his fans, and he will give them 100 percent tonight. He’ll talk to each one, pose for pics, and give them a very personal experience.

“And you must be Livy,” Jordan says, turning to me. “Landy said you’d be coming tonight.”

“Hello,” I say, extending my hand and shaking Jordan’s. “I promise I won’t interfere. I’ll stand back in the corner and watch.”

Jordan laughs. “No, you’re fine.” He turns to Landon. “Now, for tonight. One hundred fans drawn from a Connectivity contest,” he explains, referring to the social media network. “We have a table set up for you to sit at—”

“No,” Landon interrupts. “No table.”

Jordan looks perplexed. “What?”

“We’re taking real selfies,” Landon insists. “The fans aren’t going to be in that awkward lean-across-the-table pose. They earned a real selfie tonight, and that’s what they’re going to get.”

Landon has my heart. I already love him. But it’s moments like this that I realize I love him even more than I did a few minutes ago. He doesn’t have to do this. Landon could easily keep that barrier between him and his fans, but he doesn’t want that.

Because it’s not him,
I realize. Landon cares about what experience his fans are going to have tonight. That’s a part of what makes him special.

“Uh, if that’s what you want,” Jordan says.

Landon flashes him a wicked smile. “I’m not Becks. He likes the table. I want it gone before I get out there.”

I repress a laugh. Beckett is the opposite of Landon when it comes to fan interactions, and he’s incredibly shy. I know there is no way Beckett could do what Landon is about to do right now.

“Okay. Table is gone. Give me a few minutes, and then we’ll bring you out.”

“Thanks,” Landon says, nodding.

I turn to him, smiling brightly. “You’re so good.”

Landon smiles. “Why?”

“You know what will mean the most to your fans, and that’s what you will do,” I explain.

Landon shimmies out of his jacket. “They deserve a good fan experience. I’ll make sure all of them have that tonight.”

And I have no doubt he will.

“That was a blast,” I say as I leave the pro shop with Landon.

It’s now seven-thirty at night, and Landon’s fans were all allowed to take individual selfies with their hero. Landon had a conversation with each one, took a selfie, and made sure it was a good pic before the next person came up. He held up a sign a boy made asking a girl to prom and shot a video, telling the girl to say yes. Landon held a baby and posed with a mom. Someone asked him to wear a Santa hat for a holiday card pic for next Christmas, and he agreed.

“They were great,” Landon says, his voice lighting up. “I love these things.”

I overheard so many stories—from how watching him play brightened days during difficult times. How nice he was in person. Over and over how so many people were his “biggest fans.” Kids jumped up and down to meet him. Teenage girls looked like they were going to pass out as soon as he spoke to him.

“You made a lot of people happy,” I say, squeezing his hand in mine. “And oh, the girls
love
your tattoos. So many of them said, ‘I see tattoos! He wore short sleeves, OH MY GOD’ when they got closer.”

Landon laughs. “I told you I know my fans.”

“You do.”

“Right now I’m starving,” Landon says. “What do you want to eat?”

“Dim Sum.”

Landon laughs. “Very funny.”

“Chinese does sound good,” I admit. “But I know you hate it.”

“Why don’t we call in a Chinese order for delivery, then we’ll get some sushi for me and eat in tonight? While I love my fans, I think I want to make sure we’re alone tonight. I want time with just you.”

“I can’t think of anything I’d like more,” I say happily.

So we get in the car and I call in an order for my favorite Chinese meal, orange chicken and steamed dumplings. Landon gets his sushi, and we arrange for it to be delivered to the concierge right about the time we’ll be home.

Luckily traffic worked with us this night, and thankfully our food was waiting for us as soon as we got back.

“I’m starving,” I admit.

“Yeah, me too,” Landon says.

We head inside Landon’s condo and immediately begin plating up food. Landon pops open some Japanese beer for himself, and I go for a glass of sauvignon blanc, one of my pantry essentials, with my meal. GiGi appears and begins winding around Landon’s legs and meowing, as she knows it’s sushi time.

“Do I need to be prepared for another piece of sushi to go flying down my bra?” I tease, thinking back to our first date.

“Oh, shit, I was so embarrassed about that,” Landon admits. “I thought, here I am, trying to impress this girl, and my cat bombs her with sushi.”

I pause for a moment as we sit down at the coffee table, like we always do when we eat at home. It’s funny, Landon has a breakfast bar and a dining room table, but we always prefer the coziness of sitting on the floor.

“You were trying to impress me?” I ask, surprised by this admission.

“Why do you have a crease in your nose?” Landon asks, taking a sip of his beer. “Of course I was trying to impress you.”

“Landon,” I ask, curiosity taking over, “why was I different? Why did you want to impress me? Or ask me over for that first date?”

Landon pauses for a moment. “Truth?”

I nod.

Landon opens a package of chopsticks and sets them aside. “You knew me.”

“What?” I say, confused. “You mean because of Aubrey and hanging out with mutual friends?”

Landon shakes his head. “No. I mean, of course, we knew each other, but I didn’t show you me. But DesignerA knew the real me that nobody else did. And when I found out you were her, it was a sign. I felt a certainty I had never, ever felt in my life. My sister always told me I would know when I wanted to date someone, that it would be undeniable. And Emily was right. I knew that day at school I wanted to see you.

“But best of all,” Landon says, reaching for my hand across the table and lacing his fingers through mine, “you told me just trivia. You set a boundary with me. No woman had ever done that. I loved that. And I knew I made the right call. Which made me nervous. I had one shot with you, and I didn’t want to screw it up.”

I stare at him in amazement. “You thought all of this?”

Landon squeezes my hand in his. “Yeah.” Then he releases my hand so we can eat. “But what made you say yes to my invitation?”

“I liked the Landon I saw at school,” I say softly. “The way you spent time with the kids. How you kept it secret. And when I found out you were Scott921, I knew I wanted to go out with you. I wanted
Landon
. And that’s who you’ve always been to me. Landon.”

“I’m glad you said yes, Livy,” Landon says, his eyes soft.

“Me too,” I say, feeling so lucky to be with this man.

We eat—not without a few interruptions from GiGi, of course—and settle in on the couch to watch
Jurassic World,
one of Landon’s favorite movies. I love nights like this, when we’re together on the couch and I’m nestled into his strong, tattooed arms. We’ve both seen the movie, but this way we can give commentary throughout.

“So when are you going to watch Hitchcock with me, Kale Chip?” Landon teases as he plays with my hair.

I grin. I love when he calls me Kale Chip.

“I don’t watch scary movies.”

“Come on,” Landon prods. “You owe me. I watched
Alice in Wonderland
for you.”

“No.”

“You’ll be with me. I’ll cover your eyes.”

“No.”

“Let’s try
Psycho
,” Landon prods.

“Oh hell no,” I declare, laughing.

“
Rear Window?
” he suggests. “That one isn’t bad.”

I wiggle around so I can look up at him. “Will you let me put a pillow over my eyes if I get scared?”