Spiral (Off the Ice, #2) (13)
“Where?”
She instantly lights up and points to the expanse of water under the bridge. “There.”
I look to where the evening sky darkens the water in the distance. “The lake?”
She nods.
It must be longing or nostalgia that colors her eyes and makes me take the next exit straight to where she pointed. I don’t bother looking at her for a reaction because her excited squeal when I pull into the parking lot is enough.
Pine trees surround the area, and gravel crunches under the tires as I pull into a space. It’s secluded at this time of day, but I still find myself scanning the area for rustling bushes that might hide photographers. Before I can park, Sage is out of the car and heading straight for the water.
I watch in shock but quickly snap out of my frozen state and run right after her. It’s rare that the late spring temperature ever dips low enough to turn off air-conditioning, but the water is different. Today, the breeze is strong, and this girl is rolling up her jeans.
“Sage, the water’s probably cold.”
Her hair whips around her. She looks at me standing there, watching her, and shouts, “You coming, rookie?”
I remove my shoes and socks, with my head on a swivel to check for passersby.
But when I’m running toward the water, feeling the rough sand beneath my feet, I’m no longer thinking about the tabloids. I’m thinking about the laughter coming from the girl who just ran into Lake Ontario.
SIX
SAGE
THE WATER IS fucking cold.
The moment the bare skin of my ankles meets the icy lake, I can almost hear it sizzle. But I don’t let it deter me from stepping further into the water to have it immediately soothe my sore feet. Elias comes in after me, but he stays a safe distance away at the bank.
As I move further into the tranquil lake with my jeans rolled up, my gaze fixes on the gentle ripples in the water stretching out before me. The air is filled with the rustle of leaves and the faint chirping of crickets. The sound of miniature crashing waves and the smell of fresh water calm me. The only light comes from the full moon right above us, and I can almost see my distorted reflection in the water.
“It’s peaceful, isn’t it?” I say after a beat.
He doesn’t answer, but I know he’s looking up at the moon too. Then the rhythmic splashing of water behind me echoes through the quiet surroundings. There’s a spiky awareness on my skin when the warmth of Elias’s arm brushes against mine.
“Why do I feel like this isn’t your first time doing this?” he says. “Frankly, I’m surprised you aren’t skinny-dipping.”
I bite down a smile. “You think I’m wild?”
“We’re standing in a Great Lake,” he says matter-of-factly.
“It’s kind of hot that you know your bodies of water.” I gather my hair and fail to twist it into a bun. “And skinny-dipping requires nudity, and I don’t think you’re a ‘second base on a first date’ kind of guy.”
He only shakes his head with a humored exhale.
“We can go all the way if you want. You first.” I glance down, staring at the dark fabric of his pants.
“Do you come here a lot?” he asks, ignoring my suggestion.
I move my foot under the water, disturbing the smooth pebbles. “When I was a teenager, I’d be here every weekend. Just to escape.”
“And today?” he asks.
I bend to scoop up a pebble and attempt to skip it across the water. It sinks immediately. “Sometimes when things aren’t going my way, it’s nice to drown out the noise. Literally.”
He watches me for a long minute like my words mean something more to him. Before the gaze becomes uncomfortable, he looks away to stare at the sky.
“What’s not going your way?” he prods.
“Well, right now, you refusing to skinny-dip,” I say seriously, but when that stony look returns to his face, I laugh.
“Ballet,” I admit. “I’ve been trying to secure an audition to become a principal dancer for the production of Swan Lake, but I haven’t gotten the chance. They’ve opened auditions, yet they’re cherry-picking ballerinas with strong social media followings to drive ticket sales. One of the directors quit a few months ago because she said it was unethical.”
Elias listens quietly, not once interrupting me. It feels good to finally let out what’s been on my mind without being told this is a dead-end career.
“So, what are you going to do?”
“Find a way to become an overnight internet sensation.” I flash him a plastic smile.
“Trust me, it’s not what it’s cracked up to be.” There’s a faraway look in his eyes. I guess a stalker—even a nonviolent one like Lana—isn’t something anyone wants to deal with.
This time there is something different about his closed-off exterior. Something vulnerable. I can’t help but strike while the iron’s hot. “What about you? Do you ever want to escape?”
“Doesn’t everyone?”
Just when I think he’s not going to give me a real response, he exhales and takes one of the rocks from my hand to skip it across the water. He manages to make the rock skip six times on his first try. Show-off.