Page 42 of Playing for Keeps

Max was already waiting by the entrance, his broad shoulders filling out his dark coat. His hands were shoved into his pockets, as if he had been standing there for a while. He smiled when he saw me, and it was the kind of smile that made you feel warmer despite the cold.

“Hi, Em.”

While walking inside, the air changed, getting sharper and chillier with that unmistakable smell of ice. The rink looked beautiful under the soft lights, but I stopped in my tracks when I realised the place was completely empty.

“Why are we here?” I asked, a little suspiciously.

“Because,” Max said, with a smug look on his face, “I need to get you on the ice.”

My scream resonated off the rafters. “No, Max. No, absolutely not. I’ll fall, and then what?”

He chuckled, already taking off his coat. “Baby, I’m not letting you fall.”

“Don’t you ‘baby’ me,” I shot back, pointing a gloved finger at him. “Nope. Nope, nope, nope. And wipe that smirk off your face while you’re at it. I’m not going on the ice.”

His smirk only got bigger. “Oh yes, you are. If I’m salsa dancing, you’re skating.”

“You hated salsa!”

“And I still did it,” he said, triumphantly. He pulled out a pair of white skates from behind a seat and held them out like a magician showing off his trick.

I stared. “You didn’t.”

“Oh, I did.”

“You can’t be serious.”

He sat down on the bench, patting the space next to him. “Emma, I get slammed into by two-hundred-pound guys every week and stay on my feet. I can sure as hell keep you upright for an hour.”

I groaned, but the absurdity of the situation made me laugh, and despite my better judgment, I sat down beside him and took off my boots and pulled on the skates. “If I end up in hospital…”

“You won’t,” he said and crouched down to tighten the laces. His hands were steady and strong, and seeing him tie my skates so carefully made something tight squeeze in my chest.

“Up you get,” he said, holding out his hand.

The first steps were very humiliating. My ankles wobbled like they were made of string. I held on to his arm so tight he must have felt my panic.

“Relax,” Max softly said, standing very still beside me. “Don’t look down. Look at me.”

“I’m going to die.”

“No, you’re not. Trust me.”

And I did. His calm tone made me relax my grip, straighten my back, and just try. One step, then the next. To my surprise, I found my balance quickly. The wobbles got better. Instead of biting the ice, my skates were skimming it.

“There you go,” Max said, with pride in his voice. “I knew you’d get it.”

We went around in a slow circle a couple of times. In the beginning he was still holding my hand. He let go after a few rounds, but his hand kept brushing mine, making sure I knew he was still around to catch me if I fell. I started to relax and actually smiled.

When we got off the ice and clattered back to the benches, I felt strangely excited. We took off our skates and walked up to the stands. There was no sound except for the faint hum of the refrigeration units.

I tucked my hands into my lap, the adrenaline slowly fading away. “I haven’t asked you about your holidays yet. How were they?”

He leaned back, stretching his long legs. “Very loud. Late. Half of the team ended up in Will’s condo on New Year’s Eve. Someone set off fireworks from the balcony. I don’t know how they didn’t burn the place down. Christmas was better. Grace and her family. Like always.”

“No one else?” I asked gently. I understood why he didn’t see his father anymore, but I was curious about why he hadn’t said anything about his mother.

His jaw tightened. He didn’t answer right away, which made me wonder if I had pushed too far. Then, slowly, he said, “I don’t see my mom anymore. My father, for obvious reasons, but I’m not in touch with her either.”