Spiral (Off the Ice, #2) (77)

She regards me with a smirk. “It’s cute. Unexpected, but cute.”

I groan loudly. “Don’t call me cute when you’re staring at my cock.”

She laughs at my plight. So I pull her to my lips and kiss her. Tasting every inch of her mouth, and desperately wanting more. It would be so easy like this. To have her how I’ve imagined.

“Stand up,” I command softly against her lips.

When she pulls back, her eyes are wide. She doesn’t question me, allowing me to guide her to my mouth as she stands. I hold her right where I need her, feeling her shaking before my lips seal around her clit. Her hands find my hair, clutching it so tightly it stings my scalp. With my fingers and tongue working in tandem, Sage doesn’t last long, panting my name along with a cascade of pleas until she shatters in ecstasy.

She slips down my body, and I catch her in my arms before she falls on my aching thighs.

Sage rests her head on my chest. “That had to have broken some rule. Does celibacy come with a manual?”

I bark out a laugh. “I’ll let you know.” We take turns soaping each other up and then rinsing off. When we’re dry, I limp into bed.

She helps me under the covers and brings me an ice pack from the kitchen. “Call me if you need anything.”

I catch her wrist. “I need something.”

“What?”

“You.”

She rolls her eyes. “Elias, you’re injured. And we already ... I don’t want to make it worse.”

“Then sleep here and make it better. Sleep with me.”

She wears a wry smile. “You’re just setting yourself up at this point.”

“You know what I mean. Come here.”

And she does. There’s a stabbing in my abdomen when she lays her head on my chest, but nothing is worse than the dull ache in my chest when she’s not there.

Sage is unusually silent as we try to sleep. I’m used to her random questions and fidgeting to find a comfortable position. “You’re awfully quiet. Did I break you?”

Her amused breath falls on my chest. “Yeah, your magical tongue and fingers deserve a reward.”

“Your pussy was the reward.”

Her eyes bulge. “Who the hell are you, and what have you done with Elias?”

“I think we know what happened to him.”

Then Sage is quiet again, running her hands over my abdomen and up my chest. There’s a nagging feeling that makes me restless. I tap a finger on her temple. “What’s on your mind?”

“My landlord called.”

My pulse quickens, and words fail me. I’m relieved that she doesn’t look up, for fear she might see the dread etched on my face. Having her here has felt like this is how it’s meant to be, and the possibility of her leaving never even crossed my mind. There’s a rough ball in my throat that doesn’t allow me to speak.

“She said the insurance finally got back to her, and she’s called the cleaners. The apartment should be ready for me by Monday.”

“Monday,” I repeat numbly.

She brushes her palm over a bruise, focusing her attention on that. “I have an early class, so I’ll leave my key on the kitchen counter.”

“Don’t go.”

I shift to get a better look at her face, but the movement sends a searing pain through my ribs. Sage studies my expression, as if she’s uncertain she heard me correctly.

“Your studio is nearby, and all your auditions are downtown. Besides, if you have to come to my games or attend an event with me, it’s better if you’re here. It doesn’t make sense for you to move back.”

“I can’t stay here forever, Elias.”

But I want you to. “I’ll help you find an apartment when it’s time.”

“You will?”

“I’d do anything for you, Sage.” And if I let her leave now, I won’t survive it. Not after having her ignite something within me that makes me want to let go and only hold on to her.





THIRTY-THREE


ELIAS




THE HIGHLIGHTS OF my days consist of baking and waiting for Sage to get home. And the occasional text from Sean when he asks me where I’m at in my recovery. Occasionally, he tells me to take care of his sister because she needs it. I always listen. However, today’s text is him being the epitome of a little brother.

Sean: My sister might be a little grumpy today. Just a heads?up.

Elias: What’d you do?

Sean: Tanked my physics exam. It’s not my fault your team was playing when I should have been studying.

Elias: I think that’s quite literally your fault, buddy.

Sean: My friend’s having a party next weekend. You think she’ll let me go?

Elias: That’s a hard no.

Sean: Can you convince her? She’s never been mad at you.

Elias: Never is a stretch, but I’ll put in a good word if you ace all your other exams. Deal?

Sean: Deal.

I turn back to the highlights from the last Thunder game. Despite our team killing it in the playoffs, I can’t wipe away the melancholy draped over my excitement. They lost the game where I was hit but went on to win game six. The Eastern Conference finals against Boston were a breeze, but most of those wins are credited to their goalie and defensive line being injured. It’s a stroke of luck no one saw coming, and now that we’re in the Stanley Cup Finals against Vancouver, everyone’s on the edge of their seats, especially me. I’ve been checking in every day to find out whether Dr. Harris has approved me for practice, let alone to play a full game, and I’ve been at home for longer than I’ve ever had to be. It would be torture if not for Sage.