Spiral (Off the Ice, #2) (104)

That answer satisfies her because she nuzzles into me. “I don’t deserve you.”

I lift her chin and force her to meet my gaze. “First rule. You don’t get to say that, ever.”

She rolls her eyes but kisses me anyway.

“Gross,” Sean mutters when he passes us to grab a drink from the cooler. He acts disgusted, but I know he’s never been happier to finally see his sister have something for herself.

“Girls don’t have cooties anymore, Sean,” I tease him.

He glares. “You just bumped yourself down a few spots. I think I like Dylan and Kian better.”

Of course, Aiden is still reigning in the number one spot. “Try living with them for four years, that’ll change pretty quickly.”

“Hey!” Kian shouts from the other side of the fire. “You loved it.”

“It’s true. Eli got the chance to play daddy,” says Dylan. “But Sage probably knows all about that.”

Sage gags. Summer takes the marshmallow from the s’mores Aiden is trying to make and chucks it at Dylan.

He catches it in his mouth. Idiot.

Sean rolls his eyes—like his sister—and scampers to where Kian tells him about the time he fell in the ocean.

“So, is PDA still a no?” Sage asks, taking in our position.

Our friends are only a few feet away. Not once have I looked around for cameras in the bushes. I want to keep her like this, in my bubble. “It’s definitely a yes. Lots of it.”

“I guess I can work with that.” She beams. “What about flowers?”

“Different ones every week for the rest of our lives.”

I can tell she likes that answer when she takes my hand and drops a kiss to the inside of my wrist, where the ink darkens the skin. “What about long distance? What are the rules?”

“No rules. Just the truth,” I say. “Anything that bothers us, we talk about it.”

Sage lifts her pinkie. “Elias and Sage unfiltered?”

I smile, intertwining our pinkie fingers. “Yeah, Elias and Sage unfiltered.”

When she burrows into me, the light from the campfire bounces off her skin and embeds itself inside my chest. A feeling of relief sinks into my entire body.

Because I know that no matter where I am, I’ll always be home as long as I have her.





EPILOGUE


SAGE




Three years later



I’VE TRIED TO put on my gold pearl drop earrings six times. Today is one of those days that tests you until your only option is to cry in a secluded corner. First my hair didn’t cooperate, then my dress had shrunk in the wash—courtesy of Elias teaching Sean how to do laundry before he has to leave for college—and now I’ve poked my earlobe enough times that it’s throbbing.

“Elias,” I call from our en suite, hoping he’s still only down the hall and not lost in the sugar-free cake he’s icing for tonight’s celebration. The kitchen is his sanctuary, and after my many failed attempts of trying to learn how to cook, I’ve finally let go of the possibility. Everyone was much too elated by that decision. Now, I only step into the kitchen when I’m putting my flowers into a vase. This week, Elias bought me pink dahlias.

These days, my time at home is spent practicing in the studio of our apartment building. We’re still in the same building as Aiden, only a few doors down. Sean made it a point to visit us every weekend, so as soon as Elias found an available three-bedroom, he bought it.

With a frustrated sigh, I attempt for a seventh time to wear the earring. My arms are tired, and my fingers feel raw from being poked by the earring. I need a massage.

Elias and I have updated our self-care night to include massages. That means he gives me a massage, and I fall asleep before he can get one. He never complains and I think it’s because I’ve finally curbed my insomnia.

After my first year with the company, it was worse than ever. But pretty soon, I found a hack to sleep even in stuffy hotel rooms. The secret is to sleep with Elias on a video call. My phone’s battery life deteriorated pretty quickly, but my performances were much stronger. Strong enough that I just completed my third and last year with Nova Ballet Theatre. After consistently performing principal roles in Romeo and Juliet, The Nutcracker, and of course Swan Lake, the long days, the injuries, and the emotional toll of the ballet that fired me up only make me want to slow down now. I want to be still for a little while.

I haven’t told Elias yet, but I bought the ballet studio on Brunswick.

Clutching the small earrings in my palm, I resist the urge to toss them aside in frustration. It’s then that strong arms envelop me from behind, pulling me close. Elias presses gentle kisses along my neck, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine as he finds that sweet spot where my neck meets my shoulder.

“Help me,” I whine.

He takes the earring, the ones he gifted me when I completed my last Swan Lake performance, and it takes him less than a second to put them in each ear.

I let my head fall against his shoulders when I exhale.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, slipping his arms around me.

“No one talks about how hard it is to watch your siblings grow up,” I confess quietly.

“I know,” he whispers into my hair. “But you raised a great man.”