Page 49 of Faking It with my Hockey Crush

We sway to the music, my nostrils inhaling the sweet, musky smell that emanates from the beautiful redhead in my arms. My heart thumps in my chest as her body moves against mine, and my thoughts go back to earlier.

I don’t want this to end.

Afterward, we mingle, and I have the delight of introducing Emma to the patrons who have supported the charity for many years. As usual, she has them hanging on her every word, and I watch as she amazes them with the work she does and the athletes she puts back together so they can play their sport once more.

There are photographers mingling about the place, and as always happens at these functions, I am beckoned upon for the obligatory photographs with board members and the like. When they come over, one of the photographers then points to Emma.

“Can I get one with you and Emma, please, Ryan?”

“Sure,” I say, slipping my arm around her waist.

“How about a nice kiss?” she asks.

I’m now terrified but try not to show it as I gaze down at Emma. But she’s smiling and as relaxed as could be.

“It’s okay,” she says.

Bending to reach her, my lips meet hers. They’re soft and warm, and even though I know I shouldn’t, I don’t want to leave them. That might have something to do with the fireworks going on in my stomach at this moment in time. That, and my heart pretending it’s a bass drum.

Breathlessly, I pull away, and the photographer nods and turns from us. But I look back at Emma, who looks at me. Her eyes are like pools, swirling in the moment. Pools I want to fall into and lose myself in.

Another photographer grabs our attention, and the second is lost.

I’ve done a lot of thinking on the drive back to Maple Springs, and when I pull the car up outside of her house, I turn to Emma and say, “I think we should elope.”

Emma’s mouth drops open. “What?”

18

Emma

All these years I’veheld on to something that, for Ryan, was a flippant remark, a comment he’s hardly thought about since. That much was evident in his expression earlier. What was also clear, however, was his utter remorse as he slowly realized how much he had hurt me.

I never planned to tell him how he made me feel all those years ago. Megan’s sudden arrival has had me so unsettled; the words just flew out of my mouth. Yet, now, as we’re driving back to Maple Springs, it’s like this great burden I’ve been carrying has finally been taken off me, like the gate has opened, and I’m free from a prison of my own making.

With the air cleared, this evening has felt so much better and easier, if that makes sense. It does to me. In fact, I would say the barrier that stood between us—okay, a barrier Ryan knew nothing about—has dissipated, leaving me to really begin to feel.

Which is likely why that tender kiss he gave me had my stomach doing somersaults and my breath leaving my body. Ifwe had been anywhere else, I don’t think either of us would have pulled away so chastely. When I gazed up at him, I saw the spark dancing in his eyes. A spark that matched my own excitement.

It should come as no surprise to me after talking to Sharon and Debs. The feelings have been ruminating for a while now. And yet, I’ve held back. Partly because of what happened in high school, and partly because I’m afraid of committing to the person I thought Ryan was. But like Debs said, I don’t need to make any quick decisions. I can feel without having to act. It just hasn’t been as easy as she made out. I’m not actually a colander!

When Ryan pulls up outside my house, he turns to me and smiles.

“I think we should elope.”

“What?” I gawk in a totally unladylike fashion.

His suggestion comes right off the back of the thoughts that were ruminating in my head, which doesn’t help my surprised stupor.

He grins even wider at me. “You heard Phil. This is going to have to carry on for a while, and wearesupposed to be getting married. But I figure, instead of all the pomp and ceremony, we could run away and get the same result.”

I’m still gobsmacked, and as my mind whirls at a hundred miles an hour, I can’t think of one thing to say. In fact, I think I’m panicking a bit.

Like he’s reading my mind, he laughs a little. “We won’t actually be getting married, Emma. It’s just for appearances. We can go away for a day, and by the time we come back, we’ll be Mr. and Mrs. Ryan Steele.”

I still can’t get my mouth to work, and I’m sure I must look like a mannequin at this point. Ryan still looks at me, though his smile is giving off amused vibes now. As in, he’s laughing at me. But then his eyebrows pinch.

“Or did you want all the pomp of a fancy ceremony?”

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