Page 64 of Playing for Keeps

For a long time, all I could do was breathe. In and out. The night came back in bits and pieces: music from far away, a bottle rattling in the wind, and the feeling of his chest rising under my hands.

He rested his forehead against mine and smiled like an idiot. “So… we like walls.”

I laughed shakily. “We like walls.”

“And alleys,” he added, sounding smug.

“Don’t push it.” I ran my hand over his jaw and felt the scratch of stubble. “You’re very pleased with yourself.”

“Sorry for giving you a five-star service.” He kissed the tip of my nose just to mess with me. “Also, for the record, you’re the one who said ‘pin me’.”

“Semantics.” I pushed him back a little so I could fix my trousers and try to regain my dignity. “We should leave before someone comes down here and you have to explain why you glued your date to the wall.”

“Just so you know,” he said, his voice softer now, “I’m still not making any promises.”

I swallowed, feeling warm and reckless. “Fine. But you can make one small promise.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“Promise me you’ll pin me again next time. It doesn’t have to be a wall.”

His eyes warmed. “That one I can do.”

“Good,” I said, pulling him back towards the street. My heart was still racing. “And maybe next time, don’t be so… painfully slow.”

He laughed, low and happy, and kissed my temple as we stepped out into the light of the main road. “Not a chance.”

“Arse.”

He squeezed my hand. “Your arse, Em.”

We walked for a while, not saying much. Every breath came out in a little cloud. My heart still thudded from the alley, but underneath all that adrenaline, something else had started to creep in. Softer. Harder to name.

Max gave our joined hands a gentle swing, like he was making sure I hadn’t slipped away. “Em?” he said, the smile fading a little from his face.

I just hummed. Not sure what might come out if I tried to talk.

He stared at the pavement. “Back at the bar, when you said all that stuff. About leaving–”

My stomach went tight. There it was. The thing that had been sitting between my ribs all night.

“I’m not going to act like it didn’t get to me,” he went on. “Or that it doesn’t scare me. But…” He let out a breath, white in the cold air. “I’m still choosing you.”

Those words hit me harder than anything he’d done in that alley. There was no pressure. No plea. Just the truth, impossible to ignore.

“Max,” I said, but my voice snagged on everything I hadn’t said yet.

He looked at me then, and the heat from earlier was gone. This was softer, almost careful. “You don’t have to make up your mind tonight. I’m not asking for that. Just – don’t run before we even get started. Let me try with you.”

Something twisted in my chest – warm, sharp, a mess of fear and wanting so tangled up I couldn’t pull them apart. “I’ll try,” I whispered. And honestly, that felt like the riskiest thing I’d promised all night.

32

EMMA

I was just finishing up a chapter and having trouble with a particular passage that didn’t make sense no matter how many times I read it. The words were right in front of me, but I couldn’t get a grasp on them. I needed to take a break, and it was almost time for my Zoom call with Mum and Dad, which was a perfect excuse to step away.

I closed the document and stretched. My back made that satisfying little crack that said, ‘Yes, you’ve been hunched over for too long.’ The familiar ping of Zoom rang through the living room a moment later. I clicked accept, and there they were: my parents’ faces popping up on the screen, filling my laptop with home.