Page 61 of Playing for Keeps

Simon tilted his head and said, “And yet, you’re looking at me like you just confessed to a felony.”

“Because if I let this go any further, I could end up breaking his heart. But I also want to see if it could be something real. But then… what happens when I leave?”

“When you leave or if you leave?”

The distinction hit me harder than I expected. “I don’t know.”

He leaned back, crossing his arms. “Emma, you act like every city is just a stopover. But it doesn’t have to be that way forever. You get to choose when it’s ‘if,’ not ‘when.’”

“My whole rhythm is built on starting over.”

“And is it working for you?” he asked gently.

I chuckled a little. “Not all the time.”

He let the silence hang in the air. “You know, Max looks at you like the rest of us aren’t even in the room. Have you noticed?”

I blinked, caught off guard. “He does not.”

“Oh, he does,” Simon’s smile was sly but kind. “When you’re talking, he’s not just listening. He’s… tuned in. Like the whole world could fall apart and he’d still be there, locked on you. Emma, it’s not casual. Not for him.”

“Simon…”

“I’m not saying that to scare you,” he added quickly. “I’m saying it because it’s rare. Most people never have someone see them like that – really see them. And he already does.”

My throat tightened. “If I move, it will ruin him.”

“Or,” Simon said in a calm and sure voice, “you’ll be honest, and he’ll know what he’s choosing. You don’t have to protect him from something that hasn’t happened yet. You just need to tell him the truth.”

I took a deep breath. “And what if the truth is that I really want this, but I’m terrified?”

He put his hand on top of mine across the desk. “Then tell him that too. Trust me, he’d rather have your fear than your silence.”

I nodded, small but certain. “Thank you.”

Simon smiled and squeezed my hand once. “Always. Now, shall we return to Kevin’s magnum opus?”

I groaned. “Don’t remind me.”

“Balance, darling,” he teased, standing up. “It’s the universe’s way of keeping you grounded after a first-date glow.”

I threw my pen at him. He ducked and laughed, and despite myself, I laughed too.

When Max found me, the arena still smelled a little bit like popcorn and disappointment. They had lost, but the second he saw me, his smile said he couldn’t care less.

“Hey, baby,” he said, pulling me into his arms.

“Hey yourself,” I teased, my voice muffled against his chest. He was still damp from the shower, his hair messy. He looked exhausted but handsome.

“You up for a drink?” he asked, as he laced his fingers with mine. “After that game, I could use something stronger than water.”

I nodded. “Yes. One drink.”

The bar was warm and loud, filled with the chatter of voices and the clinking of pint glasses. A bunch of Max’s teammates were crowded around the pool table, being loud enough to drown out the music. One of them caught Max’s eye and gave him a chin lift, but Max just raised his glass back in salute and didn’t move an inch from our booth.

We had squeezed into a corner seat, half in the dark, which was the perfect place to feel a bit more secluded. Max’s thigh was firmly pressed against mine under the table, and his arm was draped over the back of the booth like he was claiming it. He had that easy, carefree smile that made my stomach flutter in ways I hated to admit.

I fiddled with the straw in my gin and tonic, taking a sip that lasted a little too long.