Spiral (Off the Ice, #2) (65)

I have never been praised for a performance months after it’s taken place. I’ve always assumed it’s because I’m not a memorable ballerina. But being recognized here, outside a hockey arena in downtown Toronto, for my performance in a small showcase I did last winter, plants a happy hum in my heart. I thank the girl who doesn’t realize the impact her words have on me, especially when I’ve been down about not getting an audition for Swan Lake.

Summer excitedly squeezes my shoulder from behind me.

When the window whirs shut, the smile on my face goes nowhere. We drive to the apartment, and the quiet settles back in. I’m reminded of the seemingly simmering man in the seat beside me. But I’m a determined woman, so I won’t let Elias get away with his solemn attitude.





TWENTY-EIGHT


SAGE




LAUGHTER FOLLOWS ME back to the open glass doors of the balcony, where all the guys are seated. Once we made it home, we ordered food and alcohol, so everyone ate and talked until they moved outside for drinks. The balcony is large enough that everyone who could make it sits comfortably on the outdoor couches and chairs.

I slip past some of the guys to place the platter of snacks and fruit on the glass table. When I start to collect the empty beer bottles, Aiden stops me.

“I got it,” he says, and takes the bottles from me.

Summer gives me a gentle smile when I stand there like a deer in headlights.

“Yeah, join us. We can all help ourselves if we need something,” says Socket.

The guys welcome me, and I stand there for a minute realizing there’s not any seat available. Even the chairs from inside are out here and taken.

“Here, you can take my seat.” I turn to find Owen standing.

The smile he gives me crawls under my skin.

“She’ll sit with me.” Elias’s command is low but holds a heavy authority. When I turn to him, finally meeting his eyes, he doesn’t look needy or desperate. He made a simple statement, but he said it like he’s so sure of me, I’d be an idiot not to move.

Owen continues to stare at me as if he expects me to sit in the chair he’s offered, but I grab a plate of snacks and head to Elias. He doesn’t move over, only leans back and taps his thigh.

The unspoken command is so authoritative I feel a tremor move through my body when I obey. But I won’t show him how his order affects me, or how it sends an electric feeling twirling between my legs.

Clutching my plate tightly, my hand trembles as I settle onto Elias’s lap. He’s warm, and comfortable, momentarily distracting me from the torment. His palm flattens against my abdomen, and he draws me back so I’m flush against him.

My unruly hair is in his face, but he makes no move to brush it away. Elias chimes in to the conversation every now and then. I finish off the few pretzels and fruit on my plate, and when I start to get up to take it inside, he stops me. “Stay. I’ll take it in later.”

With his arm on my stomach and his hand on my leg, I’m trapped. I’m hyper-aware of the patterns he draws on my thigh and every stroke of his fingertips. When his hand moves past the hem of my skirt, it ignites a wildfire beneath the surface, but I’d never tell him to stop.

With nowhere to go, and the cool breeze on my skin, I burrow deeper into Elias. As the guys discuss tonight’s game, I let myself focus on the man beneath me. When he shifts, my head falls in the crook of his neck, lulled by the gentle hand that smooths my hair. It’s like hypnosis, and I find myself drifting off even as I fight sleep.

This is new because I’ve never had to fight to stay awake.

Only when I feel the telltale dampness of drool around my mouth, accompanied by the faint scrape of chairs against the balcony floor, do I open my eyes again. I lift my head from Elias’s chest and find Elias watching me. His gaze maps my face, and it must be the haze from my sleep that makes me want to burrow further into him. To have him watch me with the kind of hunger I have to be dreaming up.

Then I hear his name called, and I jerk back. Shit. I fell asleep on him.

“I’m so sorry! Why didn’t you wake me up?” I whisper and wipe at his shirt, although there’s nothing there. I just need to do something with my fidgeting hands. I can no longer feel the breeze, only the hot ache between my legs when he looks at me like that. Like in this moment nothing else exists but him and me.

“Why would I do that?”

I narrow my eyes. “Oh my God, did I snore? Is that why you’re being so nice to me? Because I embarrassed you in front of your teammates?”

“Not really.” His lip tips upward like he’s lying to me. “Besides, with you moving around in my lap I couldn’t have gotten up even if I wanted to.”

Oh. Oh.

Elias brushes my hair from my face, like he didn’t just admit to me giving him a hard-on. I have to keep my mouth shut to not say anything. He’s celibate, Sage.

“Eli,” Socket shouts for him by the sliding doors.

There’s a split second where he doesn’t move at all. Like he wants to say something but gently shifts me off his lap, and we stand. He takes my plate with him when we head inside, where his teammates converse in the entryway.

“Thanks for having us,” Socket slurs, engulfing Elias in a hug. “You’re the man! The MVP! The best rookie ...”

I take the plate from Elias and head for the kitchen as Socket continues to praise him.