Spiral (Off the Ice Book 2)
Spiral: Chapter 19

IT’S A FUCKING zoo trying to get out of the apartment to go to the event. The guys and Summer head out before me, because I was waiting for Sage to get off work. She left early in the morning so I didn’t get a chance to talk to her about the party tonight or arrange to pick her up after my practice.

Now, she’s been in the bathroom for an hour, and I’m impatiently pacing my bedroom. I don’t try to rush her because she’s been apologizing since she barreled through that door.

“I’m so sorry. The line at the pharmacy was extra long today, and my payment for Sean’s meds didn’t go through, so it was a whole thing. I feel terrible for making you late.”

Sage never tells me about her financial problems, but it slipped from her so quickly that I’m sure she didn’t realize. Everything the insurance won’t cover she pays out of pocket, and I know her ballet classes don’t pay much. I doubt she has anything left for herself by the end of it.

She would never ask me, but I’m desperate to help her out. Just a little.

“Do you know where Summer put the purse she said I could borrow?” Sage asks from inside the bathroom. Summer left Sage one of her dresses, and a purse to match.

“Got it right here.”

I’ve been holding the bedazzled thing in my hand for the last hour or longer, but I don’t know because I stopped staring at my watch every minute. I move to sit on the bed so as not to sweat in my suit from all the pacing.

Then the door opens, and heels click on the hardwood floor. “If you hate it, just tell me.”

I look up from the floor to find white heels, long brown legs, and the light blue dress hugging every curve. The contrast is striking against her glowing skin. As my gaze slides up, I find the fabric draped off her shoulders, leaving her neck and shoulders exposed. I wonder how good she’d smell if I buried my face there. The thought has me ripping my gaze away so quickly, my pulse jumps.

“You hate it.”

I swallow the thickness in my throat to have the courage to finally look at her face, and it’s the killer. I might have blacked out for a minute there. Her dark hair is waved, so it frames her face along with the earrings that shine almost as bright as her eyes. There’s a brush of pink across her brown skin, and she pulls her glossy lip between her teeth as she waits for my response.

It’s going to be a long fucking night.

“I definitely don’t hate it.”

She steps forward, and I can tell my response isn’t enough. Fuck, if she knew what I wanted to say, we would never leave this room. I stand, just because I know seeing her tower over me in those heels won’t be good for my imagination. But my step away from her has her studying me. Her hazel eyes narrow, and a smirk lifts her lips.

I can’t remember the last time I felt this way. Desperate, needy, fucking insane. There’s too much I want to say, and too much I want to do. With Sage’s gaze lifted up to mine, it feels like a challenge. Like I need to wipe that smirk right off her face, and give her a better use for those perfect lips.

“Don’t be scared, Elias. I don’t bite,” she teases.

I step into her orbit and lean forward to nip her earlobe. “I do.”

Suddenly the teasing note that tinged the air around us turns molten. My gaze settles on her lips for so long that she shifts uncomfortably.

“You look beautiful. Unreal.”

She blinks, long lashes and a dark swipe of color over her eyes making the hazel pop. “Oh,” she squeaks. “In that case you look pretty unreal too.”

I raise a brow. “So, you’re only complimenting me because I complimented you?”

“You know you’re hot, Elias. People beg you on a daily basis to take your shirt off.”

And now I can’t stop fucking smiling.

I don’t know if it’s her intoxicating scent or that we’re finally alone in the apartment, but I tilt my head and say, “Is that what you want to hear, Sage? How hot I think you look in this dress and how much better it would look sliding off your body?”

Her eyes bulge and her lips part, as if her retort gets stuck in her throat, but she recovers quickly.

“Who knew after breaking you out of your shell you’d become such a flirt?” Her words are nonchalant, but the heat that puts a deeper tint on her chest and neck gives her away.

“I guess it just takes the right woman to come along.”

“And I’m the right woman?”

“The perfect one.”

BOUNCING MY LEG only makes my anxiety worse. Any minute now one of the coaches or managers is going to come up to me and realize what an utter failure I’ve been to the team since my arrival. It feels like my stats are printed on my forehead with the way everyone is staring at me. It might all be my anxiety talking, but there is no use trying to convince my brain that everything is okay.

I had attributed the appreciative glances I received on my way inside the venue to having Sage as my date. I mean, the girl is stunning, and her curly styled hair, hazel eyes, and glowing complexion make me look like a plain cardboard cutout in comparison.

And the girl wonders why I buy her fucking flowers. I’d empty an entire flower shop just so she could decide on her favorite.

Tonight, I’m happy to have the attention away from the reality of me as a player. Coach can give me props on my assists and gameplay all day, but as long as that goal isn’t in the net, I’ll always be behind the rest of the team. Marcus Smith-Beaumont’s expectations of me are proven right every single day, and this relationship is my only hope to get on track.

A warm touch melts into my palm, and Sage’s small hand with her pearly manicured nails—that she swore she didn’t want, when I insisted—intertwine with mine on the table.

My leg stops shaking because the concern pinching her brows throws me off. Concern for me.

“Drinks!” Kian and Dylan barrel toward us, putting four shots of some type of colorful alcohol in front of us.

Summer reaches for one, but Aiden puts a hand over hers. “What’s in it?”

“It’s basically juice, stop being a hard-ass,” says Dylan.

Sage chuckles beside me, looking at my two best friends who act like clowns whenever they’re together.

“I’ll take one,” Sage says, surprising me.

“Me too,” says Summer.

Aiden slashes me a look from across the table, clearly giving up on monitoring how much our friends are going to drink tonight. Just like that the four shots lift off the table, clinking together before they are knocked back.

“Amaretto and tequila?” Summer splutters.

“That’s evil,” coughs Sage, gulping down the water I hand her as I’m laughing at her sour expression. When I look to the bar I spot Socket and Owen taking a bottle from the open bar and slipping through the balcony doors. Then my gaze catches on Marcus watching me from across the room, his face giving away nothing but still managing to drop an icicle of dread into my stomach.

A warm pressure on my hand pulls me from Marcus’s look to the quiet reassurance in Sage’s eyes. I feel the need to apologize again or to say something to fill the silence, but she beats me to it.

“We can sneak out the back. I’ll say I’m developing a fever.” She looks around cautiously, then whispers, “I’ll even pretend to faint by the door.”

Fuck, I want to kiss her.

“I’ll be fine. It just feels like everyone’s staring at me. Like they’re silently judging me for being the guy who’s going to get traded any day now.”

Sage shakes her head. “I’ve known hockey people a long time. Trust me, the hotshot executives are only thinking about themselves. If anything, they see you as a dollar sign, and they aren’t thinking about anything past that.”

“That’s comforting,” I say dryly.

“Yeah, well, that’s why you need to play for yourself. Not because you’re afraid of what they’re going to think, but because this is your dream, and you want to make it last.” Sage pats my hand. “Now, will you finally go back to being your talkative, extroverted self?”

I chuckle. “I talk to you more than to anyone else I know.”

“Jeez, your throat must be tired from carrying that heavy load, huh?” It doesn’t take much to realize she’s making jokes for my sake. I don’t feel it anymore, but my body language must still be tense because she doesn’t stop giving me those small squeezes to my hand.

Suddenly, she feels too far away. I like our little bubble. It’s the first time in two hours that I’m relaxed and not being held to some impossible standard. I grab the base of her chair and pull her close until her knees knock into mine.

“Was that supposed to be a dirty joke?”

She gasps. “I didn’t realize! I swear I’m on my best behavior tonight. Very conservative.”

“There is nothing conservative about the way you look in that dress right now.”

She fidgets nervously when she looks down at her outfit, her voice sounding slightly panicked. “Then give me your suit jacket or something, I’ll cover up.”

“Are you kidding?” I say. “If I could put you on a damn pedestal and show you off all night, I would.”

Her laugh is warm and bubbly, like champagne. “I’m sure I can find a pedestal somewhere.”

When I bring up her arm to kiss the inside of her wrist, she blushes, eyes shying away to focus on the people joining the dance floor with some sort of longing. This girl is a dancer at heart, and just hearing the slow beat of the music, I can tell she wants to be there.

I don’t dance, but she definitely does.

“Come on, they’re playing our song.”

“We don’t have a song.”

“We do now.”

With our hands already intertwined, we walk to the dance floor, listening to the smooth beat that transitions into a slow dance. As much as I’m trying to avoid the spotlight tonight, not letting this girl’s light shine would be a stupid thing for anyone to do, let alone her boyfriend.

“Fade Into You” by Mazzy Star plays on the speakers, and it does something to me when I watch the way Sage lets me guide her hands to my shoulders. She rests her head against my chest.

“You don’t seem like the dancing type.”

“I’m not. But you are,” I say, pressing a kiss in her hair that I don’t think she feels. Or I hope she doesn’t.

Because it’s fucking confusing when she looks at me with eyes that don’t seem like they’re faking anything. Or when she says things that feel so real, I want to believe them. But there’s a hard line that disappears in those feelings, which I need to uncover as a reminder to myself that this is all fake. It’s selfish of me to want her in the way that I do. Especially when a relationship is the last thing she wants.

Sage sways in my arms, and I feel myself wanting to somehow hold her closer. Everything about her feels like it’s mine. Mine to hold, mine to touch, and mine to admire.

I’m so fucked.

When she pulls back, she catches my gaze, and whatever she sees makes the long column of her throat twitch. “You shouldn’t look at me like that, you know,” Sage says.

“Like what?”

“Like I’m yours to look at.”

“What if I want to?”

She pauses. “Then you can do a lot more than just look, Westbrook.”

My throat grows dry. I’m lost in her vanilla scent and the feel of her silky dress under my palm when someone taps my shoulder. I can hear his voice before he even speaks.

Mason clears his throat. “This is sweet, but you need to do your rounds.”

Sage pulls away from me first when she hears my agent’s voice. “Rounds?”

“There are cameras outside that Eli conveniently snuck past when you two arrived.” He shoots me a scathing look. “Sage, will you please escort your boyfriend to the carpet for some pictures? It’s great press for both of you.”

Sage extends her hand to mine, and I slip it into hers without a second thought. I’m beginning to think I could do anything if she’s beside me.

At the front entrance, cameras flash when we stand where Mason directs us on the short carpet. It’s no surprise because these parties have gotten bigger through the years. Our captain and a few other players have been dating famous singers for a while, so our team garners a lot of media attention.

My skin itches to get this over with because the questions they throw my way are still too personal. It was better for a while, and I’m assuming not scoring a goal has got to do with the shift.

I’m overthinking when Sage turns to me and whispers, “Go any lower and you might be able to reach under my dress. That’ll give them something to talk about.”

I snap my hand back to her waist, careful not to let it drop again after groping her in public. She lets out a short chuckle when she sees my panicked expression.

“Never said I minded, rookie,” she says, this time into my neck. It’s the smooth lull of her voice that flows through me like a gentle stream. One that makes me stop worrying and focus on the girl on my arm. Sage is perfection draped in silk. My tongue feels heavy in my mouth when I look at her, and there’s an ardent flame that brushes all the way up my spine.

It feels impossible to ignore it.

We pose for a few cameras, and I’m hoping we’re done, but Mason gives me a look that tells me we have to stop at each marker along the carpet.

My grip on Sage must tighten because her hand covers mine on her waist, and she meets my eyes and grounds me. It makes me more restless, not because she doesn’t calm me but because having her near me, smiling like that, only makes the rattle in my chest more excessive. My eyes must betray my thoughts because Sage’s gaze turns longing, and her eyes search for something. The cameras love it. I know they expect a kiss, but I won’t—I can’t. Not for them. Suddenly, Sage blinks away that look like she had momentarily gotten distracted. If it wasn’t for the shouting men, I might have forgotten too. Reaching the end eases some of the tightness in my chest, but when Sage turns to me, it all comes crawling back.

“Sorry about that,” she whispers softly. “I got caught up in the moment.”

In a reckless move, fueled by the heat of her gaze and her fucking dress, I take her hand and pull her off the carpet. Event workers move past us, and I can see our team in the foyer of the hotel. But I don’t take us there. I pull Sage through the first door I see. Luckily, it’s a storage room with a single countertop, stools, and signage.

It must be the click of the door when I close it that snaps something in my brain because I turn to Sage, and the haze in my mind implodes my every logical thought.

“What are you—”

I cut her off when I pull her toward me, and grip the backs of her thighs to lift her on the counter so she’s nearly eye level. Her squeak of surprise coincides with my anguished groan. I rest my palms on her knees to pull her legs apart so I can step right into the heat of her. She welcomes me instantly, and now that I’m this close, I wonder how I ever kept my distance. Something is taking over my body and burning my self-control to ashes. It’s either the nerves of being here messing with my motor function, or it’s because she smells so damn good. Her nervous swallow is audible, and the Sage from a few seconds ago has evaporated, just like my patience.

“I don’t want to kiss you,” I rasp, running my nose along the column of her throat, feeling her warm skin.

“I know the rules,” she mutters.

The drop in her expression makes me groan. “I can’t kiss you.”

Her breath is more of a gasp when she speaks this time. “It’s just a kiss, Elias.”

The way my name drips off her tongue makes me grip her chin and have her lips brush against mine. It would be so easy like this, so perfect. In one move, I’d be kissing her, letting her consume every part of me that’s been aching for her.

“It’s never going to be just a kiss for me. Once I do this, Sage, I won’t be able to stop.”

Her gaze flickers between my eyes and lips. “Then let me go,” she whispers.

“I can’t do that either.”

She’s so close, watching me like she has no idea what I’ll do or say next. She’s caught off guard, and I love the way her body heats me up and cools me down all at once. It’s a dichotomy I can’t quite wrap my head around.

A question swims in her eyes, but it’s not the same one she voices. “What can you do?”

She’s giving me an out, but the question only tackles me off the high. She’s vulnerable, and she’s wrapped around me like all the times I’ve dreamed about this. I’ve got this beautiful girl who brightens every room she walks into, and I can’t kiss her. It’s fucking embarrassing.

“Nothing, this is too much already, I shouldn’t have touched you like that. I don’t know what I was thinking.” I step away entirely, dispelling the haze.

Sage is vulnerable. We’re both vulnerable. But she has no place to stay, works herself to exhaustion to have a shot at NBT, and trusts me to let her fulfill those dreams without any obstacles. The shit I went through in high school made me strict on my rules. But if I let go now, I’d never forgive myself for letting us both fall deeper into something that isn’t real. Something that has a clear expiration date. Because at the end of all this she’s going to leave, and I’ll still be here, stuck in the allure of her.

Sage pulls me from my thoughts. “Why can’t you touch me?”

The question is an ice pick to the chest, and there’s a fire in her words that won’t be snuffed out until I give her an answer.

“Because I’m celibate.”