Page 37 of Playing for Keeps

“I didn’t say I was relieved,” I said, failing miserably to hide my grin.

“You have all that muscle on the ice, but I bet you’d trip over your own feet in here.”

Will chuckled. “She got you there. Excuse me, guys, but I just spotted someone who looks like she needs me to buy her a drink.”

And just like that, he was gone.

Emma and I moved to a quieter corner, away from the crowd of dancers. The music still reached us, but it was easier to talk.

She tipped her head toward the floor. “They make it look easy, don’t they?”

“They’ve probably been doing this for years. I’d be lucky to stay upright.”

“You don’t strike me as the type who worries about looking foolish.”

“Maybe not on the ice,” I admitted. “But here? A whole different story.”

She laughed softly, then tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s fun to watch, though. Everyone just… letting go.”

I nodded, though my attention was more on her than the dancers. “You look like you belong here.”

“Maybe. Or maybe I’m just good at faking it.”

“If that’s faking it,” I teased, “I’d hate to see what happens when you actually try.”

She looked at me for a moment too long, shook her head, then turned back to the dance floor.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Will give up on the woman at the bar. It was hard to tell if she wasn’t interested or if he had lost interest first, but he was already heading toward Simon. They greeted each other like old friends: classic Will, very quick at turning strangers into friends.

Emma noticed it too. “Oh, I guess Will struck out. That probably doesn’t happen a lot to you hockey players.”

There was something in the way she smiled that made me clear my throat. “Listen. Grace told me what Bridget said to you. About me.”

Emma tilted her head. “Mm.”

“I’m not that guy anymore. Bridget and I… that was a one-time thing. A long time ago. And I… I don’t do that anymore.”

She studied me for a second and then nodded. “It’s okay, Max. I know what she was doing.”

No judgment. Just acceptance. I didn’t really know what to do with that. “Really?” I asked.

“Really.”

“And besides, it doesn’t matter. You can date or have sex with anyone you want. I don’t have any claim on you.”

Wow. That was about the coldest shower I ever had. I took a slow breath, forcing a smile. “Well,” I said lightly, “at least that frees up my schedule.” Shit, that sounded more hurt than I intended to.

Emma’s mouth curled. For a second, I couldn’t tell if she was amused or trying to figure me out. She looked back at the dance floor, then at me, her eyes sparkling. “Do you want to?”

I shook my head. “Emma… me on that dance floor? That’s a guaranteed disaster.”

Her smile widened like she knew exactly how stubborn I was. “Don’t worry. I’ll take it easy on you.”

“I don’t think you realize just how bad I’ll be,” I said, not moving an inch.

She still reached for my hand anyway. “Come on, Max. Trust me.”

And somehow, against every bit of better judgment, I ended up being pulled to the floor. She positioned me, put my hands in the right place, and showed me how to do the steps. For a split second, I felt ridiculous, but then realized I didn’t. Not with her. Somehow she made it easy, even when I missed a beat. She smiled up at me, encouraging me to keep going and so I did.