Page 88 of Playing for Keeps

That look – the softened one, the one he probably didn’t know he had – hit me right in the chest. The smile came before I could stop it. He nodded his head in return.

I turned back to the room.

“Okay,” I said, “let’s write some of these down so we don’t lose them. I turned to the board, summarising what we’d covered so far. Next time,” I added, circling three subjects, “we’ll talk more about Antoinette’s mental breakdown: what’s inevitable and what’s made inevitable by other people’s decisions.”

I put the cap on my pen, took in the room, and looked at the faces I’d come to know: the ones who sat too straight when they were bluffing and the ones who turned pink when they said something they didn’t know they were brave enough to say. I smiled to myself before finishing up class.

“Okay then. Homework: Read the middle section again, slowly. Bring me three sentences you think are important for the story. And of course, write down why.”

The usual end-of-class chaos kicked in: laptops closing, bags zipping, and voices getting louder now that the work was done. A few students stayed behind and hovered by my desk with that look that said, “Please tell me I’m not failing.” I kept it brief, offering a few quick answers and the kind of reassurance they mostly needed to hear. The room finally fell silent when the last “Have a good weekend!” came my way.

Max walked down the aisle with his hands in his jacket pockets. A few students turned around and whispered. One of the bolder ones said “Finnnn” as if they were invoking a deity. He and I both pretended not to notice.

“You’re back already,” I said.

That irresistible grin of his came out. “I know. The plane left a little earlier than we thought it would. Figured I’d pick you up here instead of meeting at your place. He tipped his head towards the rows. “Also, Grace couldn’t shut up about your class. Thought I’d see for myself. She’s right. You’re… yeah.” His mouth tugged. “You’re in your element.”

His compliment caught me off guard in the best way. I stepped up to him, wrapped my arms round his neck and kissed him softly. He kissed back, matching the softness.

“I missed you,” he said against my mouth, voice low.

“I missed you too.” I ran my hand over the back of his neck and felt the familiar warmth of him. “How was it?”

“Exhausting. Back-to-backs will do that. The next one is worse. I’ll be gone for a little over a week.”

“Well, I’m very happy you’re here now.”

I looked at the bag on my desk for a second. “Come on. If I don’t drop it off at my office, I’ll take it home and end up working anyway.”

“You read my mind,” he said, reaching for the bag and slinging it over his shoulder like he’d been born carrying my things. It shouldn’t have been as attractive as it was.

We walked into the Friday rush. Students bounced around between noticeboards, someone argued mildly with a vending machine, and a poster for a poetry slam tried to look cool and almost managed it. As we passed the teachers’ lounge, the door swung open and Simon came out with a cup of coffee in his hand. His eyebrows were already going up.

“Oh,” he said with a big smile. “Grace was right; your class is apparently sold out. First the sister, now the brother. You should start charging admission, Emma.”

“That’s one way to get the department out of its money problems.”

“Hey, Simon,” Max said. They shook hands briefly before Simon waved us away.

“Go on,” he said. “I won’t keep Toronto’s defensive wall from his weekend. Anyway, I’ve got undergrads who still think enjambment is a band, and someone needs to set them straight.”

“You’re terrifying,” I told him.

“I aim for encouraging,” he said, and breezed away.

I nudged my office door open with my shoulder, dropped my bag onto the desk, and turned to see Max quietly locking the door behind us.

“Max, what are you doing?” I asked, though I already knew from the look in his eyes.

He didn’t say a word. He just hooked a finger into the waistband of my skirt and tugged me straight into him. “Nothing,” he said, sliding his hands over my butt and squeezing it hard. “Just wanted to kiss you.”

Before I could answer, he pressed me back against the door. The wood felt cool against my spine, but Max was all heat. His mouth crashed into mine, the kiss rough, claiming, nothing polite about it. My head tipped back and hit the door with a faint thud.

He pulled back long enough to smirk. “Might not be a wall, but a door works just as well.”

“Max…” I meant to scold him, but it came out as a gasp when his hand slid under my skirt, climbing higher.

“Mm?” His mouth moved down my jaw, his teeth grazing my skin, before his tongue found the hollow spot below my ear – the exact spot that turned me to jelly. “Something to say?”