My head whipped to the side so fast to look at Luke. If I was snapping my head backward instead of to the side, I probably would have given myself whiplash. Had I misheard him? Did I put too much plum sauce on the sesame chicken I ate? Did he really just say that?

“What?” My question was really a request for him to say it again. There was no way he could have said what I thought he did. Was there?

“You heard me.” The smile on his face was coy. “How long have you liked Steeger?”

It was strange when anybody asked me anything about ‘Steeger’. I’d known Kris since before he was Steeger. Actually, I’d known him since the time he was Kristopher. But it didn’t change Luke’s question. And with it being clear that I didn’t just imagine the question, my heart jumped up to my throat. I had a ton of questions of my own. Like, first of all, was I really that obvious? I’d only just met Luke and he was already making assumptions—correct assumptions—about my stupid feelings.

“What?” I repeated, trying my best to sound confused. Maybe I could play it off.

“Oh, come on,” Luke scoffed. “I can see right through you.”

Really? Well, no such luck on that ‘playing it off’ thing. Luke stared at me, waiting for me to come clean. Even though there was a ton of space on the couch on my other side, I felt cornered. I’d been silent about my long-lasting yet renewed crush on Kris for so long and here was his future teammate, trying to get me to spit it out.

Kris moving to Toronto was going to ruin my life. If he could have just stayed with the Blackhawks, if he could gotten traded somewhere else, I would be so much better off. I was a strong girl. I was a realistic girl. Given time, my crush would finally fade away for good. But not if I had to see him every single day.

My answer was on the tip of my tongue and I looked away from Luke. It was embarrassing. My gaze landed on Mitch, who was still sprawled out on the loveseat. The rise and fall of his chest was steady. But the fact that he was a mere five feet away from me kept me from making my confession immediately.

I stammered instead. “But…but…what?”

“Denying it doesn’t help,” Luke scolded.

H was definitely on to me. I glanced at Mitch again. He hadn’t moved and didn’t seem to be conscious.

“He’s asleep, Kaylie. Trust me.” Luke put his feet up on the coffee table like he owned the place. “Now why don’t you just tell me about Kris so we can do something about it?”

What, in God’s holy name, could Luke Schenn do about ‘it’? It was bad enough that I’d had a crush on the same guy for so many years. Now Luke knew? And he wanted to help me? Oh God. Oh God oh God oh God.

“Fourteen,” I murmured through gritted teeth.

Luke sighed and countered in a sing-song voice, “I can’t hear you.”

It was my turn to sigh. I thought I might choke on my own words as I spoke louder, “Since I was fourteen.”

I couldn’t place the look Luke gave me. I thought it was confusion and horror and sympathy all rolled into one. “You have got to be kidding me. Why?”

My eyes narrowed. I was about to shift into sarcastic bitch overdrive. He was going to force a confession out of me and then make fun of me when I did? I wanted to rip his head off and put it on backwards.

“You’re lucky that you’re cute. Otherwise—”

“Ooh, I’m shaking now,” he smirked, smug with himself.

“You know, Luke, you made me tell you this,” I replied. “I don’t appreciate you making fun of me.” I did some self-deprecating mocking of myself, “Oh, ha ha, there’s Kris’ best friend’s little sister that’s totally pining over him like a teenage girl – what a loser.”

“I don’t think you’re a loser,” Luke shook his head. “You seem like a pretty cool girl. You’re hot--or adorable, it probably depends on the day. And I bet you’re life smart, too. You could do so much better than a stupid hockey player. You could be with somebody like…like…”

Like who?

“…like me.”

Excuse me? Like who?!

“Oh,” I rolled my eyes. “So you’re not a stupid hockey player?”

“I figured out in a couple of hours that you’ve had a crush on one of the Versteeg boys for years—years—didn’t I?” Luke pointed out. “Not too shabby, eh?”

“Luke, listen to me clearly, I am not dating you.” I moved down the couch, expanding the space between us. “Just because you pay me a few compliments—”

He interrupted me, yet again. “Will you hear me out for a couple of minutes?”

“One. You have one minute,” I huffed.

“Look, it’s not like you’d really be dating me or be with me or whatever,” he began. “It’s just…see, you’re trying too hard.”

“I’m offended,” I mumbled. “Trying too hard at what?”

“To impress Steeger,” Luke said it like it should’ve already been obvious to me. “Guys like girls who don’t try too hard.”

Was I? If anything, I thought I wasn’t trying hard enough. I could be trying way harder; it wasn’t like I’d been throwing myself at Kris. I simply had a crush on him and secretly thought we could be good together. But I didn’t act on it. I was already pathetic. I didn’t want to be desperate, too.

“And guys like girls who seem unattainable, who are already spoken for,” Luke continued, gesturing between our bodies. “We always seem to fall for the girl who is clearly into someone else.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “Because we’re guys. It’s what we do.”

So I’d given him his minute. His grey eyes were sparkling like he’d just given me some exclusive ‘about men’ gospel. But I wasn’t sure if I was buying what he was selling. Wait, what exactly was he selling?

“What’s your proposition?” I wondered.

“Forget about him, technically speaking,” Luke answered. “All it’s gonna take for him to notice you, if he hasn’t already, is shifting your focus somewhere else. And if the person you’re paying attention to is someone who’s in his life that he can’t avoid—like me—you’re going to have him wrapped around your finger.”

I sighed and folded my arms over my chest. “My life isn’t a game, Luke.”

“Isn’t it? Shouldn’t it be?” Luke shifted on the couch and scratched at an itch on the tip of his perfectly crooked nose. “What if Steeger just needs a little push?”

My head was spinning then. I considered what Luke was saying seriously. Could it be that easy? I definitely didn’t expect Kris to tear me away from one of his teammates and confess that he was madly in love with me. But was it possible that spending time with one of his new friends would make him reexamine the way he saw me? Did I really stand a chance?

“If…if I were to agree to this…” I could barely believe the words coming out of my mouth. “What would be in it for you?”

“Oh, I can think of a few things.” The smirk on Luke’s face had something bad written all over it.

I scoffed. “When I said earlier that I’m not going to date you, I didn’t mean that I’m going to sleep with you to get another guy’s attention. That’s sick.”

“I’m such a good cuddler after though,” Luke wiggled his eyebrows.

“Oh my God.” I put my palm to my forehead. “I can’t believe I just had that conversation with you like it was rational.”

“Come on, I’m kidding,” he moved down the couch so he was sitting beside me again, facing me. He took my elbow and my hand fell from my face. “Obviously I don’t really expect you to sleep with me. I want to help.”

“If you think that the whole thing is some sort of game,” I replied, “then I don’t believe you when you say you just want to help.”

Luke let go of my arm and put both his palms against the couch cushion and leaned back in place, against the empty air. The playful expression left his face. “My girlfriend and I broke up this summer and I’m still processing it. I could use a project away from hockey.”

Who knew Luke Schenn had such a heavy heart?

---

Three eggs were yellowed and lightly simmering on the frying pan when I heard the knock at the door. It was just past eight in the morning, two hours before I had to be at the dance studio. There were two parts to each dance production during the ballet season: rehearsal weeks and performance weeks. During rehearsal weeks, all the dancers in the company—principals, soloists, and corps members alike—participated in about an hour of ballet class before a break for lunch and then rehearsal. Rehearsal times were staggered and divided up according to dance scene. But class was always at the same time every morning.

I wasn’t expecting anybody. Breakfast was always the last part of my morning routine before I left, after I was ready, and it usually went by quietly. I turned the stove off before walking the distance to the front door. The figure I saw in the peep hole was a head tilted down, eyes focused on a cell phone in hand, but very familiar. I unlocked the door and turned the doorknob, holding the door slightly ajar.

“Kris,” I greeted my visitor. “What are you doing here?”

He frowned. “Well top of the morning to you too.”

I ignored his whiny response and repeated, “What are you doing here?”

“Aren’t you gonna invite me in?” Kris still didn’t answer my question.

Without another word, I stepped back and held the door all the way open. My next action was sardonic, holding my free arm out in the open air and curtseying as he stepped through the threshold. Just because we were new neighbours and sort of friends, it didn’t mean I was cool with him just showing up unannounced in the morning. Given my huge crush, being around him by myself was a problem.

He followed me into the kitchen as I went back to my eggs. Kris stood against the counter, leaning against the dishwasher, as he had done when I first saw him the evening before. I hoped he didn’t notice that I was biting the inside of my lip as I scooped my scrambled eggs onto the plate I’d set beside the stove minutes before. It was early but he looked cute in his summer workout clothes. There were two weeks until the Leafs held their training camp. Kris was probably at his fittest now before the grind of the hockey season took over.

“Are you waiting for someone?” he asked.

I shook my head. “No. Why?”

He pointed at my plate with his index finger.

“Oh,” I laughed. “These are all for me.”

With the push of a button, I turned off the exhaust fan above the stove and then slid open the drawer adjacent to the sink and pulled out a fork, dumping it on the plate. I grabbed a glass from the drying rack next to the sink and walked my meal to the table. My last stop before pulling out the chair was to the refrigerator for ketchup and the carton of apple juice.

“A girl who eats.” Kris was still standing in the same spot awkwardly. “I like that.”

If only you liked me.

For the autumn program, the National was staging Giselle, a very popular classical romantic ballet. I had lucked into making the first cast. I would be in one scene during the first act—the Peasant pas de deux, a common interpolation piece for big companies that did productions of Giselle. I would be dancing with my pas de deux partner, Étienne, for the better part of nine minutes but we also had two variations each within that time frame. Since it would be my first time in a solo role for the company, I had a lot to perfect over the next several weeks.

Rehearsal weeks were absolutely taxing on a dancer’s body. The energy expenditure was sky high. We were on our feet and dancing nearly continuously for six hours a day Monday through Friday. It was usually more along the lines of eight hours in the early goings though, when we were still getting the choreography down pat. Years of preparation helped us adapt to it, but it was basically an all-day workout. I wouldn’t recommend a low calorie diet to anyone planning on doing the same volume of dance…unless you intended to pass out around the third hour. I ate healthy, but I ate a lot: a protein-heavy breakfast, a lighter lunch, and a hearty dinner.

“So why are you here?” I asked my guest for the third time as I shook the plastic bottle of ketchup, then poured some of its contents in a symmetrical pattern over my eggs. “You know Gavin leaves at like 6, right?”

“I brought my spare key, in case I accidentally lock myself out of my place.” Kris produced a shiny silver piece of metal from the right pocket of his mesh shorts and dropped it on the counter. “And I came to talk—I didn’t come here for Gavin—I came to talk to you.”

I’d been about to fork a piece of egg into my mouth but I put the utensil down again, looking up at Kris. “Me?”

“Yeah, you.” Kris finally walked over to the table, the rubber soles of his team issue Reeboks squeaking as he shuffled across the hardwood floor. “What the fuck did you do to my teammate?”

“Uh…I don’t know what you mean,” I said.

Actually, I had a pretty good idea what he meant.

“What did you do to Schenner?” he clarified. “I got a text from him asking for your phone number.”

Oh, Luke was good.

“I didn’t do anything. I enjoyed his company last night when you left and Mitch fell asleep.” I smirked. “You can give him my phone number.”

Kris pulled out the chair at the other end of the table, directly opposite of me. “Did he ask you for it yesterday? Why wouldn’t you just give it to him yourself?”

“If I gave it to him and he wasn’t actually interested, then he wouldn’t call and I’d be disappointed,” I reasoned. “I told him he could ask you for it.”

“Wait, disappointed?” Kris stressed the word. “So, what, you’re into him?”

“Maybe,” I shrugged. “He seems like a good Saskatchewan boy. I’d probably get a better scope for what I think about him if we were to hang out again.”

“Okay first of all, if a guy is too cheap to take a girl out on a real date, he’s probably not that into her. I would know.” Kris pointed his thumb at his chest and I almost snorted. “And second, what if he just wants to hook up? What if he breaks your heart?”

Wow. Kris and I were having a real conversation. He seemed genuinely concerned. I wasn’t freaking out that I liked him so much or that he was going to find out that I did. He was playing right into my hand. If it was a game like Luke suggested, then I’d just put the first points on the board. Kris was reacting how I wanted and how Luke said he would.

Luke and I had quickly come up with a plan once I’d agreed that I could use his help. It was a well thought out and elaborate plan. He was a pretty sneaky bastard for a guy who was still a few months away from his 21st birthday. I was jumping up and down for joy internally no more than twelve hours after I agreed to collaborate with him. The initial part of our plan was already working. If it was a game, I was going to win. I had just gotten Kris’ attention.

“You’re talking heartbreak and I don’t even know if anything is going to happen. Why do you care what happens?” I took a sip of my apple juice. “You don’t get to tell me who I spend my time with, you know. Who are you, my mother?”

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you to stay away from hockey players?” he countered.

She hadn’t. She’d watched the Versteeg boys grow up. They were all hockey players and all sweet to her. To be fair, they’d all been good to me, too. Kris never got the chance to break my heart like the other girls who’d fallen for his charm, because I hadn’t been around, and also because he’d never hit on me a single day in his life.

“Luke is your teammate,” I reminded. “He’s friends with your brother.”

“Yeah, that’s exactly my point. I don’t know him very well yet. I don’t know if you can trust him. Hockey players aren’t exactly altar boys, Kaylie.” Kris sighed. “Look, you’re my best friend’s little sister. And you and I are friends, right? I should care. I think I should be looking out for you.”

I couldn’t tell him that Luke was like a little puppy dog to me. Cute, but no cigar. Luke was just as sarcastic as me. We were playthings to each other. He was going to use me as much as I was going to use him. He just needed a distraction.

“You don’t need to protect me from anything. Gavin certainly doesn’t,” I returned. “We make our own decisions.”

It was because of Kris and my own brother that I knew how guys could be. I saw Kris break girls’ hearts when he was in high school, and I’d been sitting at the same spot in the kitchen when girls who’d spent the night with my brother made the walk of shame the morning after. Our rooms were on opposite ends of the condo, and he promised me that he told every girl he brought home that he lived with his sister. But they still turned sheet white in the event that they ran into me in the morning.

I never told Gavin what to do with his personal life, and he never told me what to do with mine either.

“I care about you.” Kris looked me directly in the eye, his baby blues meeting my own. “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

My breakfast lost its taste. I didn’t know if I was still chewing and it didn’t matter. There was something there in his eyes and in his voice that I’d never felt before. He really did care. And it wasn’t because I was his best friend’s little sister or because he’d known me for more than half of his life. He cared because he wanted to.

There was hope for us yet. It made me like him even more.

“I can handle it, I promise,” I smiled at him.

“Okay,” he nodded. “Good.”

Kris picked up his phone and started tapping the touchscreen. I assumed he was going to send Luke my phone number after having the ‘warning’ conversation with me. He didn’t know that Luke already had my phone number. We’d worked on our game plan even after he and Mitch had left. I watched Kris typing with his thumbs and held his gaze when he paused and looked up, grinning.

“I think we should go on a double date sometime,” he said simply.

Just when I thought the ship was sailing smoothly, he brought a whole new obstacle into the game.

Notes

If you want to know what Kaylie and Étienne's dance might look like, you can check out this excerpt from Giselle done by the Bolshoi Ballet here. There is more about pas de deux and the Peasant pas de deux past this chapter. This is just scratching the surface so that the dance part of her life is dispersed throughout the story instead of hitting you over the head with it all at once.

Extended Chapter Notes

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