Page 59 of Playing for Keeps

I pushed my plate away. “You realize I’m not ready to call it a night, right?”

Her smile was quick, a little shy. “Good, because neither am I.” She tilted her head, thinking, then brightened. “The aquarium’s open late today. Want to go? It’s close enough to walk.”

“Lead the way.”

The aquarium was only a few blocks from the harbour. The walk over was easy: Emma beside me, her coat brushing against mine now and again, her laugh cutting clean through the cold night air.

As soon as the doors closed behind us, we were no longer in the city. The noise outside had vanished, replaced with a low hum. I could hear water pumps somewhere behind the walls, the soft rush of air, and the faint echo of our footsteps on tile. At this hour the place was almost empty. A couple went into the gift shop, a security guard gave us a quick nod, and then it was just us.

The lighting was dim, with the tanks glowing in the dark. Blue light shimmered everywhere, broken up by the slow movement of fish swimming past the glass.

Emma stopped and went still. “Oh,” she gasped and it was as if every ounce of wonder in the room was concentrated in her voice. “This is… magical.”

I should have been looking at the fish. I wasn’t.

We walked into the first tunnel, water curving above our heads. Sharks swam past Emma in slow arcs, casting shadows across her hair and face. She gasped again when one passed just above us, its belly pale against the glow.

“Doesn’t it make you feel small?” she asked quietly.

“Maybe,” I said, though my eyes stayed on her. “Or maybe it makes me think that the important stuff isn’t as complicated as we think.”

She looked at me then, her eyes soft and searching, before she turned back to the glass.

We stopped at the jellyfish tank, where the whole wall seemed to be pulsing slowly. They drifted up and down in a lazy rhythm, like living lanterns suspended in water. Emma leaned in closer to the glass, her shoulder brushing mine, and I could smell her perfume, which was light, floral, and so completely her.

“They look like lanterns,” she said, voice soft. “Beautiful, but dangerous if you forget what they are.”

I looked at her instead of the tank. “That’s you right there.”

She turned her head, her green eyes sharp but amused, the corner of her mouth curving. “Careful, Max. That sounds like you’re asking for trouble.”

I shrugged, but I couldn’t help but smile. “Maybe trouble’s exactly what I want.”

She laughed, almost reluctantly, but she didn’t move away. She stayed close, her shoulder against mine, both of us watching the jellyfish glow in the dark.

By the time we reached the stingray pool, casual touches had become second nature. Her hand found my arm whenever she leaned closer to read a plaque or point something out. When the path dipped, my hand brushed the small of her back to steady her. She didn’t flinch; instead, she leaned into it.

“Are you allowed to touch them?” she asked, leaning over the pool.

I grinned. “Want to find out?”

“Nope,” she said immediately. “But you can. If you get stung, I’ll just make fun of you.”

I lowered my hand and pretended to try and touch one.

“No, don’t do that,” Emma squeaked and grabbed my arm, both horrified and thrilled. Her fingers curled tightly around my sleeve, and a jolt went straight down my spine.

“You sure you don’t want to try?”

Her nose wrinkled adorably. “Not a chance.”

She didn’t let go of my arm right away, though.

As we continued through the aquarium, the corridors became quieter, making it feel like the entire space was ours. We found ourselves facing the biggest tank, a floor-to-ceiling glass wall that was an endless blue, full of silver fish that darted like threads of quicksilver. Emma leaned against the railing and looked up. The glow of the water painted her skin in varying shades of blue and green. I moved closer, so close that I could feel the warmth of her body next to me.

“See?” she whispered. “Magical.”

I nodded, but I wasn’t really looking at the fish anymore. I was looking at her again. She must have felt my stare, because she slowly turned towards me. For a split second, her face changed – not a smile, not exactly surprise, just this thoughtful look, like she was turning something over in her mind but wasn’t quite ready to say it out loud.