Spiral (Off the Ice, #2) (69)
Her eyes stay focused on my mouth. “Sure. I’ll just get off work early.”
“I’ll pay you for what you miss.”
Her brows pinch, annoyance written in the line between them. “I’m not an escort, Elias. I don’t need your money.”
I lean forward. “I know. But you’re probably going to need a dress, so I’ll pay for whatever you need.”
When I start to pull out my card, she stands. “You can’t be serious.”
Dropping the card on the marble slab, I look up to meet her eyes again.
She crosses her arms. “I’m already living in your apartment, and now you want to buy me clothes? I’m a lot of things, but a freeloader isn’t one of them.”
“You’re also my girlfriend, and I would never let you pay for a dress you need to wear to go out with me.”
“That’s not fair. This is fake. Those rules don’t apply.”
I cock my head. “I don’t recall that being a stipulation when we started this.”
Full lips press into a straight line, but when her shoulders drop, I know she’s given in. And this victory feels better than any goal I’ve made.
She begins to protest.
“You’re not paying me back,” I say before she can even suggest it. “I’ll send you the details. I’ll be gone for a few days, so text me if you need anything.”
The anything makes her gaze snap to mine, and now I know we’re both thinking about last night. Pretty hard not to when I can still feel the phantom movements of her hips grinding on my leg.
But she looks embarrassed when her eyes dart away. “About last night—”
“Heat of the moment,” I finish for her. “You don’t have to explain anything. We can just forget about it.”
Sage nods slowly. The atmosphere feels scalding until she clears her throat. “It’s Hakima, by the way.”
“Huh?” I’m confused, but the switch in conversation is a welcome savior.
“My middle name, I never told you. It’s my mom’s name. It means ‘wise,’ just like Sage.”
I recall our conversation from last night before ... everything. “Hakima? That’s beautiful.”
She shrugs. “I guess my mom gave me one good part of her.”
“Every part of you is good, Sage.”
She smiles but it feels all wrong as she slides off the stool. “I should go. I have a class of very studious eight-year-olds to teach in an hour.”
“Right. I’ll see you in a few days, then.”
We awkwardly linger in the kitchen before dispersing.
THIRTY
SAGE
SCREAMING ON THE bus is a very appropriate reaction to finding out I’ve secured an invite to audition for the principal role in Swan Lake. But the old man sitting next to me did not agree.
It’s been a week since I’ve thought about anything other than Elias’s tortured expression when I sat on his lap. But today, only the NBT invite occupies my brain.
As soon as my following pivoted from hockey fans leaving inappropriate comments to supportive ballerinas and ballet moms, recognition from other popular dancers started pouring in.
This audition guarantees that I’ll be judged by Zimmerman, and that bitter part of me is desperate to stick the landing. I want to prove to him that this nobody has come a long way from that day he laughed at me outside my first audition.
I haven’t told anyone, not my brother and not Elias, because there’s a part of me that doesn’t want anyone else tied up in my hopes. Rejections are tough, but I’ve been through so many, I’m sure I can weather that storm again. But if either of them sees me lose the one thing I’ve strived for since I turned eight, it’ll only embarrass me.
The kicker though? My feelings for my fake boyfriend don’t feel fake at all. I’m on the verge of making my lifelong dream a reality, and my mind wants to focus on the way he flexed his muscular thigh between my legs.
Not only that, the dress I’m supposed to wear tonight, gifted by him, is so beautiful I can’t believe it’s mine.
When I get to the empty apartment, I head to Elias’s room to stare at the ruby red fabric hanging in the closet. Despite my refusal, he was right about me having to buy a dress. I couldn’t reuse the black one I’ve been wearing everywhere. But that’s not the part of the conversation that’s been a pin in my side.
Elias only mentioned my desperate act of rubbing myself over his thigh because he wants to forget it. Like it was a lapse in judgment, a stupid mistake by a horny girl lost in the haze of her lust. Well, maybe that description is a little accurate, but I was not lost or being stupid. I was as aware as ever that the hard plane of his thigh was perfect against my throbbing core, and, if I recall correctly, that hazy lust caused him to flex his too. We’re both equally guilty. But why do I feel like the one that’s been sentenced to prison?
I’m dressed and waiting for Elias to pick me up, since he’s getting changed at the arena after practice. He’s been stressed these past few games, so I’ve been laying low. They swept round one, so the team has been training hard to keep their streak. However, Elias said Coach Wilson isn’t pleased with everyone’s performance and thinks the team-building get-together is necessary since they only managed to score in overtime or with power plays.