Spiral (Off the Ice, #2) (91)
“It’s a special day,” Elias says. “I thought we’d celebrate properly.”
ELIAS
INSIDE THE RESTAURANT, Sean stares out the floor-to-ceiling windows. The building completes a rotation almost every hour, giving us a 360-degree view of the city. When Sage excuses herself to go to the bathroom, Sean nudges me.
“I never got to say thanks for the jerseys. And for making Sage’s birthday a good one. I know she told me it was okay for me to hang out with my friends, but I still feel guilty.”
“You don’t have to thank me, Sean. I wanted to do it.”
He holds my attention as he finishes off his fried appetizer. “I know I should ask what your intentions are with my sister and all that, but considering everything you’ve already done, I’m not sure it’s necessary.” Sean pauses as if collecting his thoughts. “But just in case you haven’t figured it out yet, Sage is a people pleaser, and she’ll work herself to the bone to make sure everyone she loves is cared for, even if that means neglecting herself.”
That is not where I saw this conversation going. Sean loves his sister, that much is obvious, but knowing he sees behind the curtain where she hides her problems tells me he worries about her a lot more than he lets on.
“I’m her younger brother, so Sage doesn’t let me take the burden off of her. Sometimes I don’t even realize that I put it there, because I end up relying on her for everything. So, I want to make sure that at least with you, she doesn’t have to do that.”
If Sage were listening to this, she would be crying right now. “Your sister is my priority. If she wanted to shut off her brain and lean on me for the rest of her life, I’d happily support her. But I know where her passion lies, so I’ll do everything I can to make sure she fulfills it.”
He bites into his truffle-buttered baguette, and the crunch accompanies the thoughtful look on his face. “Damn. I was kind of hoping you would be an asshole so I could continue not being a fan.” He lets out an exaggerated sigh. “It was easier when the only stuff I knew about you was your shitty stats and the articles online.”
His words remind me of how far I’ve come from those tabloids. “You know that stuff in the media is almost always a lie, right?”
“I know, I know. It’s gossip made by miserable people with no lives.”
Those words are straight out of his sister’s mouth, and I can tell she’s been feeding that to him for a while. Probably ever since she was pictured with me.
“And my stats were never bad, you little shit.”
He scoffs. “Yeah, now, thanks to my sister. Before she came into your life it was like you hadn’t seen a puck. My uncle said so himself.”
He’s exaggerating, but Marcus probably did say that. “I still hold the record for the most assists in the season.”
What I lacked in goals, I made up for through assists. Not exactly impressive, but it’s still something. Why am I defending myself to a fifteen-year-old?
“Right.” He drags out the word, but then cracks a smile as he digs into another appetizer. “I’m kidding. Everyone’s saying you’re one of the reasons we got that far in the playoffs. Crawford’s still my favorite, but you’re a pretty close second.”
“Guess I’ll have to try a little harder to change that.”
“This”—he gestures to the food on the table—“is a pretty good start.”
FORTY
SAGE
I FEEL LIKE it’s my first day of high school and I’m a nervous twelve-year-old with no friends. After we took Sean back to school this morning, I dropped Elias at his morning skate and went home to get ready for my first rehearsal.
It’s a few hours later when Elias rushes into the room, dropping his gear bag to head straight to the shower. I offered to pick him up when he was done, but Aiden drove him back.
“Five minutes and we can go. I’m going to grab a quick shower.”
I watch him strip out of his clothes in the bathroom. “You’re not even going to ask me to join?”
“The door’s open, baby,” he replies, the shower muffling his chuckle.
It isn’t long before he’s out again with a towel around his waist. I’m shameless when I map his happy trail. Elias pulls out a gray Henley and dark-wash jeans to change in front of me, and I don’t do a damn thing to give him any privacy.
In the car, I double-check my bag four times, running through a mental checklist. We arrive at the front entrance of the downtown theater, and when Elias opens my door and presses a kiss to my forehead, I don’t move. He doesn’t say a word as he stands next to me outside the car.
“Your mom called to wish me luck,” I tell him, trying to distract myself.
He gives me a knowing look but indulges me. “She was very excited.”
“Have you decided what you’re going to do about your dad?” I’ve been hoping he’s realized none of what happened at world juniors was his fault and that he can stop paying for it.
He stiffens with discomfort but responds anyway. “I don’t want to worry about this anymore, and I hate that you worry about it too. So, I’m going to figure out a final payment.”