35. Max
MAX
The bar wasn’t too busy tonight, which was exactly how I liked it. Just the low lights, the steady hum of voices and the familiar smell of beer and nachos. Easy. Comfortable.
I leaned against the bar with Seth and Lewis on either side of me, Will was halfway through a story about practice, talking fast and grinning the whole time.
Emma and Simon had gone to the dance floor at the far end.
She had asked me to come and join her, and even though I wanted to spend all my time with her, no one at that bar needed to see that.
But watching her was the next best thing.
From where I was standing, I caught flashes of her on the dance floor. She was wearing a red top, had her hair down, and a big smile that lit up the dark. Simon moved well, smoothly and with confidence, but that didn’t matter. She was the one I watched. The one I couldn’t look away from.
“Finn,” Lewis nudged me with his elbow and pointed his chin at the bar. “Incoming.”
I didn’t have to look to know what he meant. Bridget.
With her heels clicking and her blonde hair perfectly in place, she had the same look on her face that I’d seen a hundred times before: like I was a prize she had already half-won. My jaw clenched.
“Finn,” she said cheerfully, sliding into the space next to me as if she owned it. Her perfume hit me before her shoulder did, sharp and sweet. “It’s been a while.”
“Bridget.” I nodded, trying to be polite. I kept my hands around my beer glass, with my knuckles tight.
“You always look so serious.” She laughed. “Relax. I’m not here to make you squirm.”
“Good to know.”
She studied me, and then her smile softened in a way I didn’t expect. “Listen,” she said, quieter now. “That night at Will’s? With Emma? I got the message. You’re crazy about her.”
I blinked because I wasn’t used to Bridget being this honest.
Her smile turned into a smirk. “Or do you think I still have a shot?”
“No,” I said without a second thought. “It’s Emma.”
“Thought so. But hey, it was worth a try.” Something in her eyes flickered – not hurt exactly, just acceptance – and then she lifted her glass in a mock toast and turned around.
I blew out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. Good. Clear. Done.
And then warmth. A hand on my lower back.
I didn’t have to turn around to know. My whole body knew. Emma.
My mouth was already curving before I even saw her. I turned, and there she was. Her cheeks were a bit flushed from dancing, her eyes bright, and strands of hair were sticking to her temples from the heat.
“Having a good time?” I asked.
She nodded, a bit breathless from dancing. “Actually, yes. A very good time.”
I cupped her cheek without thinking, bent down, and kissed her.
Not too much, because this wasn’t the place for it, but enough.
Enough to taste the salt of her skin, to feel her lips part slightly, and to lose myself for a moment before pulling back.
Seth whistled. Lewis smirked. Will clapped like an idiot.
Emma laughed, embarrassed, and I shook my head at the guys, flipping Will off for good measure.
She talked to them like she had always been part of our group.
Banter about hockey, about the pizza night at Will’s, even a couple of jokes at Lewis’s expense.
She was warm, quick, and so fucking easy to be around.
After a while, she leaned back toward me, her eyes teasing. “I’m joining Simon on the dance floor again. Do you want to come?”
I snorted. “Not a chance.”
“Coward.” Her smile curved wickedly.
I couldn’t resist kissing her again, deeper this time. “Go have fun,” I whispered.
She squeezed my hand once, then slipped back toward the dance floor.
She glanced over her shoulder one last time, which almost made me follow her.
Instead, I followed the guys to a booth.
Hockey talk. Playoff predictions. The usual conversations that came with beer and downtime.
Then Will, who never lets things stay too serious for long, leaned back with that shit-eating grin of his and said, “All right, boys. Have I ever told you about the time I ended up half-naked in a hotel lobby in Montreal?”
Seth groaned. “Oh God, not this again.”
“Shut up,” Will said cheerfully. “Max hasn’t heard it yet. It’s a classic.”
“Classic disaster,” Lewis muttered.
I leaned forward, interested despite myself. “Naked?”
“From start to finish,” Will confirmed proudly.
“So, this was last season. Road trip. We had just beaten the Habs, so of course I celebrated, maybe a little too much. Drinks, shots, the whole nine yards. Anyway, I wake up at three in the morning because I hear this chirp. It wasn’t a normal chirp; I swear on Gretzky’s stick that it was the fire alarm.
My drunk brain goes: ‘Evacuation mode. Move now or die.’ So what do I do?
Do I put clothes on? Grab my wallet? Nope.
I grab what I think is a jersey. Spoiler: it was a towel.
Scratch that, it was a hand towel. I try to cover myself, but fail and stumble into the hall.
Now, here’s where it gets fun. My card? Left in the room.
The door? Snaps shut behind me. All of a sudden, it’s just me, a towel, and a hotel hallway. ”
Seth was already wheezing. “I remember this. Oh my God.”
Will continued, ignoring him. “Anyway, I’m running down the hall, my heart racing, trying to find the stairs because I can’t use the elevators during a fire.
Duh! Except halfway there, I drop the towel.
Everything out on display. And that’s when Edith, our team’s sweet, sixty-year-old nutritionist, comes out of her room. ”
The table erupted. Lewis slapped the booth so hard his beer almost fell over.
“Edith!” I gasped. “She saw your…”
“Yep. And I swear to you, she just shook her head and said, ‘Hydrate, William,’ before closing the door. Absolute legend.”
I was laughing so hard my ribs hurt. “Jesus Christ, man.”
Will held up a finger and said, “I’m not done yet…
So, again holding onto this tiny towel like my life depends on it, still not able to find those stairs, I think I’m stuck, half-naked, sweating tequila, death imminent.
Finally, a bachelorette party rolls through – sashes, tiaras, plastic champagne flutes.
I move to get out of the way, but the bride-to-be thinks I’m the entertainment and starts trying to tip me with five-dollar bills.
But of course, no underwear, so she just tucks them under my armpit. I bow. They cheer. It was a moment.”
Lewis nearly spat out his drink.
“I bolted,” Will said, shaking his shoulders with laughter.
“I finally found the stairs and ran down three flights, holding on to that towel for dear life. I ended up in the lobby, where the night clerk, God bless her, was able to calm me down and call security. Naked in Montreal, gentlemen. Five stars. Would recommend.”
We were all laughing by the time he was done. Seth, who had rolled his eyes at first, was now doubled over.
I leaned back, still laughing, and found myself scanning the bar for Emma. She was flagging the bartender for a drink. I caught myself smiling automatically, until I saw him. Some guy sliding in close. Too close.
At first, I figured she probably knew the guy.
But then her shoulders tensed up and she put on that polite smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
My chest tightened – not from jealousy, but from seeing her freeze up like that.
I knew that feeling too well. He leaned in, way too close.
She tried to move away, but he just closed the gap again. My smile vanished.
I got out of the booth without even thinking. Lewis stopped laughing. He followed my line of sight, his smirk fading. Will opened his mouth to crack another comment, but one look at my face had him swallowing it. My eyes never left her.
The guy leaned in again, so close that his mouth almost touched her ear. Emma edged back, but the bar was right behind her. She was trying to keep it civil, but I could tell how uncomfortable she was.
With each step across the floor, I felt more and more tense.
Honestly, it took everything I had not to just storm over and yank him away from her.
Not yet, at least. The last thing I wanted was to make a scene that put her in the middle of it.
But then his hand slid down her arm, his fingers just hanging there.
That did it. My jaw locked. That’s when I heard her, voice sharp and steady, despite the tightness in it.
“That’s enough,” Emma said. “I’ve told you before that I don’t like you touching me. We work together. No means no. It doesn’t mean ‘maybe.’ It doesn’t mean try again later. It just means ‘no.’”
I reached her then, close enough that my arm brushed hers. “Emma,” I said, steady, even though every instinct told me to move. “And this is?”
She turned her head a little, and when she saw me, her shoulders dropped. “Max, this is Henri. A colleague.”
So this was Henri. He looked just like the useless weasel I had imagined.
His eyes moved back and forth between us.
He straightened and the little smirk that had been on his face faded away completely.
For half a second, it seemed like he might argue.
He just scoffed instead and walked away without glancing back.
Emma’s shoulders shifted, and I felt the stress leave her body.
“Hey, you okay?” I asked, giving her waist a little squeeze.
She nodded and took a deep breath, calm and sure, as if she had just closed a door on something she never meant to open again.
And Christ, watching her like that, standing her ground with zero hesitation – I couldn’t look away.
I bent down, close enough to feel the warmth of her hair against my lips, my words just for her.
“I’m proud of you,” I whispered, rough with everything I couldn’t put into words.
Her hand found mine at her waist, her fingers sliding over my knuckles.
That simple touch grounded me more than anything else could.
I turned her slowly, needing to see for myself that she was really okay.
When she looked up, those fierce green eyes meeting mine, I couldn’t stop myself. I pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“Let’s join the guys,” I said quietly.
She nodded once, and we walked back across the floor together.
Lewis moved over to make room at the booth without missing a beat.
Will was halfway through telling another one of his classic stories when Seth rolled his eyes, like he’d heard it a hundred times.
Emma slipped in next to me. My arm curved around her as her laughter settled into my chest. I sat there, holding her close and listening to her laugh, and thought: Yeah.
This is it. This is what happy feels like.