Page 35 of Faking It with my Hockey Crush

When Madame Amour calls us all together for the grand finale, I can feel my heart beating faster. I’m now super nervous because I realize she wants us to do this in front of everyone. Shooting Ryan a nervous glance, I’m surprised when he smiles. He then gives me a reassuring nod.

“It’ll be fine,” he mouths.

Of course, we’re the last to go, which has only made my nerves worse, and when Madame Amour looks at me, I lift my pad and feel my voice quake.

“Ryan,” I begin, not taking my eyes off the page, “I vow to laugh with you, even when things get messy, because that’s when we’ve been at our best. I vow to remember what we were, to hold on to it, and to try again to make it real. And I vow to let you in when things get difficult, even if it means letting my guard down. Because you’re worth that.”

He looks me in the eye and smiles.

“Beautiful, Emma,” the crazy woman gushes. “And now you, Ryan.”

Ryan unfolds his paper and begins to read his own vow, his voice low and steady.

“Emma, I vow to show up for you—even when it’s hard, and even when I’m not sure how to fix things. I vow to remember the things that make us who we are, the little things that makeus laugh. And I vow to keep making the effort, because this weekend has reminded me just how much you mean to me.”

I blink because, honestly, I didn’t expect so much emotion to come from a guy like him, but a second later, Madame Amour is smothering him in praise, and the second is gone.

The weekend is finally over, and after we all say farewell to each other, the limo takes Ryan and me back to the airport. I cannot put my relief into words when the plane finally lifts into the sky.

We don’t say much to each other on the journey, even when we get back to Maple Springs. But when the Lincoln drops me off at my house, Ryan turns to me and says, “Thanks for this weekend. I know you weren’t looking forward to it, but I actually had fun.”

“Me, too.” I smile.

And as I walk into the house and close the door, I’m a little surprised to discover that I actually mean it.

13

Ryan

A week has passedsince our weekend away, and it’s been nonstop since.

The first thing I had to deal with when I got back was my brother, who attacked me the minute I walked through the door.

“You had to go and do it, didn’t you?” he spat as I dropped my case in the hallway.

I was in too much of a good mood to want to deal with him.

“Have you noticed a pattern? This is the second time you’ve accosted me at the entrance of the house. I’ll bet your psychiatrist has some deep and meaningful insight into that, right?”

I don’t know if he’s still seeing a shrink, but he was after Mom and Dad died.

Thomas just glared at me. “You don’t care about anyone else but yourself, do you know that? You’ve always been a selfish idiot,” he ranted. “Anyone else gets themselves into trouble, they deal with it alone. You get into trouble, you drag innocentbystanders into your mess because you’re too pathetic to deal with it yourself.”

I’m not made of steel, so his words hurt, but as always, I hide it. Particularly with Thomas.

We fall into another blazing fight, ending with both of us storming off. And yes, I can storm off a little better now because, thanks to my treatments, I’m feeling less and less pain.

A few days later, Emma and I travel into the city for radio interviews. Phil wanted to ease her in slowly. These interrogations into her life are going to be hard enough. He didn’t want to throw her in at the deep end. She also needs to get used to the questions without people being able to analyze her reactions. Radio is perfect for that.

But today will test her. It’s our first live television interview, which, frankly, terrifies me to death. There’s no editing a live show, right?

We’ve come out of makeup, and with the unforgiving glare of the studio lights and six cameras capturing us from every angle, I’m nervous. I glance at Emma, who’s sitting snugly beside me on this sort of loveseat that I know they bought in specially. This is a sports channel. They don’t do loveseats.

The studio audience cheers when the host, Sheila Graham, strides on stage. Sheila’s interviewed me before. At least she’s not as intrusive as other hosts. As the audience claps, she lowers herself into a seat beside us and beams a huge smile.

“This is so exciting,” she gushes. “Alright, let’s get to the heart of it. I have to ask the question on everyone’s lips, Emma. Was it love at first sight?”

Oh, Lord. Well. This is new.

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