Page 90 of Playing for Keeps

Will whistled softly. “Wow. That’s a big word.”

“I know,” I said. “But I’m also scared as fuck.”

“Why?”

I shrugged and kept my eyes on the ceiling. “Because I can see it coming, man. The end. But I can’t seem to put the brakes on. She’s… she’s worth the risk, even if it hurts like hell later.”

Will leaned back. “Yeah. I get it. Better to regret what you did than sit around scared of what might happen. That’s why I try everything at least once. Keep going, no matter the setbacks.”

“That does sound like you. Just slow down once in a while, bud. You don’t have to race through the good stuff.”

“I know,” he said quietly.

After that, he put on his headphones and no doubt scrolled to something upbeat. I put my phone face down on the tray, closed my eyes, and let the sound of the plane fade into the background.

The door opened and there she was, all wrapped up in a blanket like a grumpy but cute burrito. Her hair was a little messy, her cheeks pink and she was giving me the biggest damn smile. I didn’t even think about it. I just stepped forward, wrapped my arms around her waist, and lifted her right off the ground. I whispered, “Hi, baby,” against her lips and kissed her before putting her down again.

She laughed, moved back to the couch, and flopped onto a nest of blankets with papers spread everywhere. Notes, drafts and sticky tabs, her usual battlefield.

“Jesus, Em,” I muttered. “It’s cold in here.”

“I know,” she said with a little shrug, like it wasn’t a big deal. “The heating went out yesterday. The landlord was no help, because apparently he’s on some Caribbean cruise for the next couple of weeks. So I’ve been on the phone all morning, but the earliest they can get someone here is Tuesday.” She pointed to the couch like it explained everything. “Hence the mountain of blankets.”

I stared at her. “So your solution is to freeze to death?”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re exaggerating. It’s not that bad anymore outside. Plus…” she held up her mug like it was a prize, “I’ve got tea. And a hot water bottle.”

“That’s it,” I said, already shaking my head. “Pack your stuff. You’re coming home with me.”

“Max,” she said in that patient-teacher voice, “I’m fine.”

“No, Em.” I pointed to the pile of blankets. “You’re not fine. You’re nesting like a penguin trying to survive the Arctic. I’m not leaving you.”

She just stared at me. Long enough that I started to wonder if she’d dig her heels in. Then she sighed, pushed her hair back, and said, “Okay. But I’m bringing tea and biscuits. Because I need those to survive, and you probably don’t have anything sugary in your house.”

I scrubbed a hand over my face, fighting a smile. That stubborn woman. To be honest, she probably would have frozen in here just to prove she could if I hadn’t shown up.

She went upstairs, and I picked up her notes and stacked them into a pile so they wouldn’t get mixed up. I could hear her footsteps overhead, a soft creak and the faint rustle of drawers.

A couple of minutes later, she came back down with a bag. I slung it over my shoulder automatically, but she stopped halfway to the door.

“Wait.”

She darted into the kitchen and came back with a box of tea, a travel mug and a tin of cookies, as if they were non-negotiable.

“I have cookies at home, Em,” I said, already laughing.

“Chocolate ones?” she asked, sounding innocent.

I opened my mouth. “Well, no, but…”

“I’m bringing mine then,” she said firmly, brushing past me with her loot.

I couldn’t help but smile at her. My hand went to her face, thumb brushing her cheek as I kissed her – deep, unhurried, the kind of kiss that said I didn’t give a damn about tea, cookies, or that stubborn streak that could level a city block.

When I pulled back, she gave me that look that always undid me: soft and warm in a way that went straight to my heart.

“Come on,” I said, taking her hand and tugging her toward the door. “Let’s get you thawed out.”