Page 43 of Playing for Keeps

I turned towards him and waited.

He dragged a hand down his face and exhaled. “I told you my father hit me. But he turned out to be my stepfather. I didn’t know he was my stepfather until I turned eighteen. Grace and I came home early one day and walked right into a fight between him and my mom. He was yelling that he was done paying for another guy’s bastard. He told me I wasn’t his problem anymore since I had a scholarship.”

I wanted to reach for him, to offer comfort, but I stayed still, sensing he needed space.

Max’s voice was rough now and lacked his usual humour. “It turns out my mom had an affair. The guy died in a car crash before I was born. My stepfather took her back, but… he took out his anger on me. And she knew. She knew and let it happen, lying to me for years.”

“Max,” I whispered, my throat thick.

He shrugged, but it was a weak gesture. “I don’t have any contact with him at all. I don’t really talk to her. She lied. She let it happen. That’s where we are now.”

My hand moved before I could stop it, as if my body understood before my mind did. His knuckles were cold and tense. I squeezed his hand, firm but gentle, until he finally looked at me.

“Do you think you’ll ever let her back in?”

He swallowed before answering. “I don’t know.”

I moved closer and rested my head on his shoulder. I felt his warmth and strength, along with the steady rhythm of his breathing. A few seconds later, his head leaned against mine. We sat like that for a while, the two of us in the empty stands, with the rink below us, pale and quiet. Nothing else mattered – just the trust he had given me and the easy way we fit together in the cold.

“You weren’t terrible, you know,” he said, his voice a little lighter. “Your legs did the Elvis on the first lap, but after that… not bad.

“High praise from a pro. Just so you know, I consider tonight full repayment for salsa.”

He tilted his head, mock wounded. “Full repayment? Not even close. Next time, we’re doing crossovers.”

I groaned. “Next time? You seem pretty sure there’ll be one.”

“There will be,” he said, certain as anything. “I’ll get you a hot chocolate. With extra marshmallows.”

“That’s shameless bribery,” I said, laughing under my breath. “And… effective.”

He nudged my shoulder, grinning. “So, ready to call it a date yet?”

I held his gaze for a bit longer than I meant to, my smile lingering. Then I shook my head. “No.”

We fell quiet again, the silence wrapping around us. I put my head back on his shoulder, and he leaned in, warm and easy, as if we’d always belonged there.

23

MAX

I stood at centre ice during our morning practice, taking in the familiar chaos around me. The boards rattled with every drill, the sound of blades scraping lines into the ice, and the sound of pucks smacking off the glass. There was a rhythm to practice: whistles, shouts, and the heavy exhale of lungs under strain. But today, something else was pulling at my attention.

Emma.

She was standing near the bench, just outside the boards, bundled up in her long coat and scarf. Her hair was neatly tucked away, but it was already coming loose in a way that made my chest feel too tight. She had been given special permission to watch from rink side. When she’d asked if it was possible, she had said it was for research. And now there she was, pen in hand and notebook open.

Will was the first to notice, as expected. He broke away from a skating drill and glided to a slow stop right in front of her, leaning on his stick like he had all the time in the world. Even from across the rink I could hear his voice carrying – teasing, easy and probably even flirtatious.

I cupped my glove around my mouth. “Will! Less flirting, more skating!”

He had the audacity to grin at me before pushing off again, going back to the drill. Emma was jotting something down in her notebook, shaking her head and laughing.

A few others wandered over, too. There was Seth, grinning like always, and Lewis. Lewis barely said hi before someone yanked him back to practice. Emma greeted them both warmly, and from Seth’s reaction, I knew I’d be hearing about it later.

I told myself to refocus, to keep my head in practice, but my eyes kept sliding back to her. She seemed so out of place, but somehow she fit in perfectly. Her face was full of curiosity as she watched everything unfold.

Practice ran through the usual: warm-up laps, tight passing drills, then breakout plays. Sweat poured and my muscles burned. We finished with a scrimmage, bodies clashing in controlled chaos, sticks snapping pucks between us, and goalies barking orders from their crease.