Page 32 of Faking It with my Hockey Crush

“Oh, well, now you’re asking for it,” she says with a mischievous smirk. Grabbing her paddle, she concentrates all her strength, and a second later, I’m soaked to the skin.

“You don’t want to play this game with me,” I warn.

“No?” she mocks. “Are you scared?”

“Okay. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Five minutes later, after much thrashing and rocking, nearly toppling us both into the ocean, the two of us are soaked from head to foot and in stitches laughing.

“Oh, darlings, what a scene!” our instructor says when we return to shore. “But I suppose laughter is partnership, hmm?” She hands us towels with a dramatic sigh.

She then declares a two-hour break for lunch.

“Before that, you might want to go and get changed.” She lifts the corner of her mouth sultrily. “Maybe you want to skip lunch, huh? Just be back in two hours.”

Emma’s eyeballs nearly pop out of her head at the woman’s words, and I burst out laughing at her reaction. “Can you believe what she just said? And in front of everybody, too.”

I’m still laughing. “Sure, but she thinks we’re actually a couple, remember.”

Emma’s face burns red at that comment, so I don’t say another word until we get back to the suite.

After lunch, the challenge involves blindfolds and food. Needless to say, it gets pretty messy. I’ll admit, I don’t really get it, but I can’t say it isn’t fun.

We’re left to our own devices for the rest of the afternoon, and after a walk and a rest, we head down to dinner. Like the night before, our instructor doesn’t join us, and we figure the challenges are over for the day. That is, until she comes swooping in once the sun’s gone down.

“Follow me,” Madame Amour says, leading us through a door.

After continuing through several doors, we’re led outside, where we find a dance floor, complete with fairy lights strung across the trees and soft music playing from somewhere nearby.

“Tonight, you will dance under the stars,” she says with a twinkle in her eye. “Even if you cannot dance, it does not matter. Just let yourselves feel the music, hmm?”

“Eternal Flame” by the Bangles starts playing, and even while she rolls her eyes at the cheesy song, Emma looks nervous.

“Look,” I say, offering my hand, “it’s not that difficult.”

“You can dance?” she gasps.

“No, but I can skate, and it’s basically the same thing. It’s just about finding your rhythm.”

Slipping one arm around her waist, I pull her a little closer and take her hand. Slowly, I move from side to side, but it soon becomes clear that Emma has plenty of rhythm and doesn’t need my help at all.

“Why were you so nervous?” I ask, looking down at her and feeling confused.

She shrugs and looks a little coy. “I suppose it’s just been a long time.”

“How long?” I ask.

“A few years.”

Her reply surprises me, and I say so. “Seriously? How is that possible? You’re stunning.” Her face blooms bright red, and I realize I’ve embarrassed her again. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright. But you know relationships are more than skin deep, right?”

“Of course,” I say flippantly.

But even as I answer, I have to wonder if I do know that. Let’s be honest, my dating patterns are hardly merited on their depth.

Come on, man. You know Megan had a lot to do with that.

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