Spiral (Off the Ice, #2) (70)

I’m peeling the liner off one of Elias’s homemade carrot muffins, waiting for his text when the front door opens. Footsteps echo against the floorboards before I see him. Dark hair is tousled just enough that a single strand curls against his forehead, even as he sifts his hand through it. The black suit hugs his frame, accentuating his athletic build and confident posture. His black shoes reflect the kitchen lights, each stride leading him toward me as my mouth falls agape. I almost choke on the muffin when I see him close up.

If I died right now, I wouldn’t even be mad if this was my last sight.

“You look beautiful,” he says, snapping me out of my trance.

“Definitely the dress,” I say, shyly sliding off the stool.

“Definitely you.”



THE GET-TOGETHER IS intimate, and nothing like the party we attended a few weeks ago. Only the starting lineup and some of the players from the second line are here. This time, we’re at Coach Wilson’s house. The French-style home is located in the suburbs not too far from Sean’s school. Inside, we pass the grand foyer and a set of sweeping staircases to the dining room, where a crystal chandelier decorates the space. The house is massive, and I have to remind myself to keep my jaw from hanging.

The dinner is filled with questions and introductions, most of which make me feel like an imposter. Elias notices when I retreat into myself because he puts his hand over mine under the table. A touch just for me. It slows my thoughts until Coach’s wife leads us outside to gather around the table that sits on a stone-paved patio.

The other guys on the team mingle as they sit with their girlfriends and wives, some of them having brought their children, who play together in the courtyard, while others have gone home with sleeping babies in their arms.

This whole thing was to boost team morale, and I think Coach Wilson’s idea is working. I kind of wish Summer was here, because she would make being surrounded by all of this a little easier. But she’s at Dalton, and Aiden is practicing on her parent’s indoor ice rink with her dad between games.

So tonight, it’s just Elias and me.

Socket helps start a fire, and everyone takes a seat around it when the cool breeze dips the temperature. But Elias doesn’t let go of my hand. Instead, he pulls me right in his lap when he sits down. I try to appear comfortable, but ever since the last time I sat on his thigh, there’s no telling what I’ll do. But knowing my uncle is across from us has me on my best behavior.

Elias pulls my legs across his lap, and I try my hardest not to sink into his touch.

“How did you two meet? I know Marcus sure as hell didn’t introduce you,” Coach Wilson asks.

I cut a glance to my uncle, who is staring into his glass of water.

“We met at the auction.” Elias places his hand over mine on the table. He’s been extra touchy today, and I can’t make sense of it.

“I go to the bathroom for two seconds, and he’s made a move on my niece. Classy.” My uncle’s rough voice makes Elias stiffen.

A few of the players surrounding the table turn to look at us.

“Actually, I was the one who bid on him,” I interject.

Coach Wilson laughs. My uncle grimaces. I’m sick of him treating Elias like he’s not good enough for me. If anything, I’m the one who isn’t good enough for him.

“But I still had to convince her to come on a second date,” Elias adds.

Hearing the topic of conversation, Owen turns too. “I had to ask her out for an entire year before she agreed,” he chimes in.

The easy atmosphere plummets to hell.

“And we were on and off for years,” he says from his place a few seats down, slurring his words. “But loneliness seemed to always bring us back to each other.”

I’m willing the skies to open up and strike me down.

Owen continues, “But I’d do it all over again if she would—”

“I’d be careful with how you finish that sentence.” Elias’s threat is low and rough. His deep voice makes this entire interaction even more unbearable.

Owen laughs. “Relax, Eli, you know I’d never overstep.”

I look up at Elias, staring ahead, watching Owen with a dangerous glint in his eyes. Uh?oh.

We’ve been over this, and Elias knows there is nothing between Owen and me. But I don’t expect him to become best buds with my ex. Suddenly, I can’t stand being here.

“It’s getting late. Will you take me home?” I ask.

This time emotion flickers in Elias’s brown eyes, but he blinks it away. “You want to leave?”

I nod. We say a quick bye to everyone, and we’re off. In the car he doesn’t touch me. No hand on my thigh, and no conversation. The music is loud yet deafeningly silent. The walk to the apartment is even quieter.

I’m itching to talk but seal my lips together to not be the first to speak. Inside, he shuts the front door behind us and there’s a hot tingle that races up my spine. The click of my heels against the hardwood matches the thudding of my heart as I head to his room.

“Was he telling the truth?” Elias’s deep voice startles me. “You went back to him whenever you felt lonely?” He says the words calmly, but there’s a frustrated lilt to his question. One that seemed to have been simmering the whole ride here.

“He was drunk,” I deflect. I remove my heels and head straight to his room and into the bathroom.