Spiral (Off the Ice, #2) (80)

The silence between each bout of rings feels like hours, but finally he picks up. “Sage? Is everything okay?”

His voice grounds me, and takes me back to everything I have done to get here. Everything we have done. It takes me back to the other night. Allowing Elias to see every inch of me without a sliver of doubt skating between us was scary and vulnerable and so open that I couldn’t imagine I’d feel this way. It’s what I’ve wanted, and now that I have it, it terrifies me.

“Elias,” I manage to say through a broken sob.

There’s muffled commotion in the background before a door bangs and it’s silent again. “Where are you? I’ll come get you.” He sounds out of breath, and when I check the time, I know he’s still at practice.

“N-no, I’m fine,” I say. “I just wanted to call to tell you I finished my audition.”

“Yeah?” He blows out a breath. “I’m so proud of you, Sage.” The smile in his voice makes me cry. “Don’t cry, baby. I know you killed it, and the decision will tell you exactly that.”

“I got the part, Elias.”

“What?”

I’m not sure if he didn’t hear me, because the voices in the background resume, so I wait till I can control my shaky voice and speak louder. I’m wiping tears when I say it again. “I got the part. I’m going to be the principal ballerina for Swan Lake.”

He repeats my words loudly, and all I hear next is a surge of excitement that reverberates through the phone, and Elias’s voice, now almost drowned in the uproar, exclaims, “Hell yeah! Of course you did, baby. Didn’t doubt it for a second.”

“Let’s fucking go!” I hear Aiden’s voice through the phone, and I hiccup a laugh. I lean against the bathroom wall and stare at my reddened face and puffy eyes in the mirror. The guys are probably running on adrenaline before their game tomorrow, so their excitement is intense.

“You’re the first person I called,” I admit.

Elias responds with a booming laugh. “From the look on Marcus’s face, I can tell.”

My uncle’s voice comes through the receiver. “I’m so damn proud of you, kid.”

Whooping and hollering escalate around Elias.

“I love you.” My words spill out so fast I don’t bother stopping them because they have never been more true. There’s a long pause, and I have to check if he hung up.

But then I hear Elias. “She says she loves you.”

My confusion morphs into realization. He thought I was talking to my uncle.

I consider correcting him, but before I can, Elias’s voice returns, filled with pride. “You hear that? You’ve got a whole cheering squad here. Are you happy, Sage?”

His question makes the beam of light in my chest even brighter. “So happy,” I say, a little watery and broken. “I can’t believe it. I didn’t think it would actually happen.”

“No? You always seemed pretty confident.” He chuckles.

I’m smiling like an idiot now. “It’s called faking it.”

Then there’s a tense pause that chokes the line, and the word fake sits heavily in the silence between us.

“I guess we’re both pretty good at that, huh?” he says softly.

My brain refuses to come up with a response.

I love him. I’m bursting with so many emotions right now, I’m not sure how to say it in a way where he’ll know that I mean it. I need Elias to believe that I want him for real. Not the famous hockey player, but the boy who cooks for me and doesn’t complain when we do my self-care routines. Elias has been hurt before, and I never want him to feel that again.

“Congrats, Sage,” he says, and the somberness in his voice feels wrong. Then his name is called and he’s quiet for a moment. “I’ve gotta go, but you should celebrate, okay? There’s no one who deserves it more.”

And then the line drops, and somehow I keep my heart from doing the same. Because just like I secured the role, I’m going to secure the boy too.



IT’S LATE WHEN the guys come home. I can hear their hushed voices down the hall, and when Elias steps into his room, my stomach squeezes tightly and so do my eyes.

Suddenly, all the confidence I built up this afternoon evaporates into thin air. Elias heads to the bathroom, and while he’s in there I’m clutching my pillow, hoping to fall asleep before he comes back. Before I blurt out I love you again and freak him out.

Everything we did—this entire fake relationship—was for the sake of our dreams, and now that we have them, we’re seconds from puffing away like dust on a windowsill.

The bathroom door opens again, and I can’t remember if I ever learned how to speak. Even in the dark I know he’s only in his boxers.

But instead of heading to his side of the bed, Elias sits beside me, by the curve of my body. The mattress dips under his weight, but I keep my eyes closed. Then, I feel his lips press against my forehead, his fingers threading through my hair, and his thumb moving back and forth in a soothing motion.

“Sage,” he whispers. “You have insomnia, I know you’re awake.”

My whole face flushes, and I’m grateful the lights are off. I pretend to sound groggy when I open my eyes. “I was trying to sleep.”