Spiral (Off the Ice, #2) (33)

Desperate, I turn to the retreating firefighters. “Do you have a spare bed at the station?”

They give each other a look and chuckle at my imposition. “If you need resources—”

“Sage?” My front door flies open, and all six feet four inches of Elias Westbrook come rushing in. Of course, he arrived early, before I could ask to reschedule our date. He’s wearing a black flannel over a white tee and simple jeans, and his hair is disheveled as if he ran. Somehow, he looks hotter than the fire that burned my belongings to soot.

He stops short of cupping my face. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

Elias scans my body for ... burns? I don’t know. But he looks more worried than I’ve ever seen him, and it takes me a minute to realize he’s worried about me. A foreign tingle burrowing beneath my skin makes me stand straighter.

“Looks like you won’t be needing those resources,” says the fireman. “We’ll see ourselves out. And please put out your candles before leaving a room.”

My gaze follows their retreat, but my mind is still stuck on Elias. The look on his face. The way my heart skipped when I saw him.

“A candle did all this?” Elias takes inventory of all my stuff. Which isn’t much, because it’s all been reduced to ashes.

“It’s not that bad. There’s still a dry spot over there.” I point to a space that wouldn’t even house the rats that run around here at night.

“Sage, you’re not staying here.”

“I can’t exactly splurge on a motel right now, and the coffee table is sturdy enough.”

He glowers. “Do you have a spare bag?”

“It’s drowning.” I gesture to the soaked bag, suppressing my emotions for when I’m alone. “I can leave my clothes out to dry. No biggie. And I have all my ballet stuff in this bag.” I lift the bag I take to class. As long as my expensive ballet attire is untouched, I can ward off a full breakdown. I move to stand by the door to see him out, but he frowns.

Elias Westbrook is angry.

“If you think I’d let you stay here, you must think I’m a pretty shitty person.”

I know he wouldn’t, and that’s the problem. A moment ago, I had no options but to sleep somewhere outside. Knowing that Elias is not only worried but cares enough to insist I not sleep here makes the tingling sensation in my chest move to my gut.

“I don’t think you’re a shitty person. You’re kind of the opposite,” I say.

The smell of smoke and the distant sound of closing fire truck doors fill the air around us.

“You’re not staying here,” he repeats.

Maybe I’m being stubborn, but I need to be alone. That’s how it’s always been. “All my clothes are soaked or burnt, and I don’t think a cheap motel will feel any better than this.”

“You’re coming with me. You can wear my clothes, and I’ll put yours in the wash.”

We stare at each other for so long, it borders on discomfort. He’s already helping me with ballet and randomly bringing me dinner. I can’t take more. I won’t be a burden.

My lip lifts in an attempt to break free of this stalemate. “You just want to see me in one of your T-shirts, don’t you?” I joke, dropping my gaze to the melted self-care basket. Screw you, magnolia. The longer I avoid his irritated look, the more I recognize my burnt things on the debris-filled floor.

“I want to be sure you won’t pass out from smoke inhalation.”

“There are windows. You’re overreacting.”

He releases a gruff breath and comes to stand just inches from me.

“You know what I think, Sage?” He’s close enough that I have to strain my neck to look at him. “I think you talk a lot of shit, but when someone offers to take care of you, you hide behind your jokes to avoid asking for help.”

I swallow.

“So, I’m not asking. Gather what’s left of your things, and get your ass in my car or I’ll carry you there.”

Whoa. My whiplashed brain leaves me no choice but to quickly pick up my wet duffel and some toiletries. I can’t ignore the knot of uncertainty that finally untangles in my stomach.

Elias watches me from the threshold, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed and a stern look on his face. Sweet Elias is nowhere to be seen, but that might be my fault.

He takes the bag from my hold and shuts my apartment door behind us. Then he slips his hand into mine as we head to his car.



SMOKE NO LONGER lingers on my skin. Instead, I’m sniffing Elias’s body wash. I’d pay good money to have it injected into my veins.

We didn’t talk much on the drive to his place, nor when he sat me at the dining table and I devoured a bowl of creamy rigatoni pasta. After my shower, I changed into his large sweats and a T-shirt.

In the living room, Elias, Aiden, and a stunning girl with long brown hair and eyes to match turn to look at me. Their conversation halts, and I stand there awkwardly.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt,” I say quietly.

“You’re not,” the girl says. She stands and engulfs me in a hug. “I heard what happened. I’m so sorry. That must be devastating.”

“It’s not too bad. I didn’t have much stuff anyway.” I play it down, but I’m screwed. Crashing with Elias isn’t permanent, and soon I’ll need a place to stay. Nothing is as cheap as my rent-controlled apartment, and I know my teaching salary won’t cover much.