Spiral (Off the Ice Book 2)
Spiral: Chapter 27

HOCKEY FANS ARE obnoxious and loud, and I can’t wait to be one of them.

The Scotiabank Arena is bustling with blue and white as I follow the long line through security. After my bag is checked, I make my way to the suite that the team keeps for the players’ families. I’ve sat here a few times with my uncle. But this time, walking in to find a close-knit group of hockey wives and girlfriends makes me feel like a fraud. Before I consciously make the decision, I start back down to the lower sections where the team has a few reserved seats. Since it’s our last regular-season game, it’s not packed, so those seats are often empty.

“We need to talk.” My uncle’s voice cuts through the chaos of the arena, and I wipe the somber look from my face. I’m surprised to find that he isn’t his usual happy self tonight, but I have an inkling of what this is about.

Marcus Smith-Beaumont has been there for Sean and me since we were kids. All my good childhood memories include him. All the ones without him have to do with my absent parents and police ransacking our house when my dad got into illegal narcotics.

When you grow up around chaos, the happy moments are like life rafts. But when I turned eighteen those life rafts no longer felt safe. I worked hard and saved enough money to never lose my brother to the system and show that I could provide a stable life for him. Luckily, I was an adult, which meant I could take on Sean as my dependent. However, when my uncle found out what happened with our parents he offered to adopt him, and I felt threatened. Threatened that another adult in my life was going to take something away from me.

Seeing this, Uncle Marcus immediately took back his offer and assured me that he knew how important it was that I become Sean’s guardian. Since then, he’s been the only adult figure in our life. He’s never overstepped, but that doesn’t prevent him from playing up the uncle card.

“About what?”

He narrows his eyes. “Don’t be a smart-ass. When were you going to tell me you’re living with Westbrook?”

Oh crap. “I’ve been kind of busy …”

“I asked you to keep me in the loop.”

“You weren’t going to approve.”

Uncle Marcus crosses his arms. “Since when does my approval dictate how you live? You’re dating the kid I made a mistake drafting to this team. And as much as I’d like for you to continue being happy, it won’t save him from being traded.”

I scoff. “He doesn’t need me to save him. He’ll prove himself, you’ll see.”

He pins me with his best parental stare. “You couldn’t have chosen anyone else?”

“Like who? Owen?”

Uncle Marcus always liked Owen and never understood why we broke up, because I didn’t tell him. To be fair, Owen was the ideal hockey-playing Canadian boy. Any general manager uncle’s dream.

His jaw tenses. “You know what? Maybe just stay away from hockey guys entirely.”

I snort. “You’re getting better at this fatherly advice thing. You should get married and have kids so you won’t have to practice on me anymore.”

“Maybe they won’t slash my tires.”

I wince. That incident was in the same era as the guardianship debacle. It was before I had the conversation with him like a real adult. I found out Uncle Marcus had gone to a family lawyer to discuss Sean’s adoption, and in a fit of teenage anger, I used my pocketknife to slash one tire. His use of the plural is an exaggeration.

“You sitting in the box?”

I shake my head. “Rinkside.”

“Have fun, but don’t expect to see anything meaningful from your player.”

I roll my eyes. “He’s your player, and don’t be rude.”

He grimaces and disappears down the hall where the rest of the men in fancy suits follow him. Those are the executives that are watching every player tonight. I’m sure they have a lot riding on the guys tonight, but I know no one feels as much pressure as Elias does right now.

By the time I find my section, the game has already started. I thought my outfit was cute, but I didn’t take into account that it would be cold at a hockey game. It doesn’t matter though, because I feel good. For years, I’ve worried about not looking good enough. Too big, too tall, too skinny, too everything. Now, after years of hard work, I’ve poured love into my body. The reason I get to do what I love.

So, when I get looks from other fans for my overdressed appearance, I don’t pull down my skirt or fidget with my jersey. If I did, I’d probably pull out some threads, because I’ve worn this skirt so many times it should be in the trash. But I’m a reuse, reduce, recycle type of girl. Sue me.

Right against the glass, I can see everyone clearly. I’ve never been inclined to watch sports on my own, but because of Sean and my uncle, and now Elias, I hold a soft spot for hockey.

I’d say it’s a little uncomfortable to sit at a game where a girl holds up a sign asking my boyfriend to puck her. Fake boyfriend, but I’m still jealous. I know it and the girl’s about to know it too. Maybe when my fist meets her face—

“Sage!” Summer’s voice hits me and I turn to see her approaching. She’s not wearing a jersey; she’s got on a jacket with Aiden’s number on it. “I was looking all over for you. You didn’t want to sit in the box?”

I look back at the women in the family box, having drinks and cheering on their partners. “Sean said it would be a disservice to hockey if I didn’t sit rinkside.”

“Smart kid.” Summer takes the empty seat beside me and offers me some popcorn. “These have always been my favorite seats. That’s why my dad reserves them for most games.”

“Do you come to all of Aiden’s games?”

“It was easier when he was at Dalton, but I still try to attend most of them. It’s nice to know someone’s there for you, you know?”

There’s no better feeling than looking into a crowd of strangers to find one that puts a smile on your face.

My smile slips when a familiar body bangs against the glass. Owen winks at me, his grin toothy and wide.

“You know him?” Summer whispers, giving the guy a once-over.

I stuff my face with a handful of popcorn to avoid answering her, but she gasps. Clearly she’s a genius. “That explains it.”

“Explains what?”

She points to number eighty-eight, Elias, who’s staring at Owen with an eviscerating look, one that does not make them seem like they are on the same team.

“Elias doesn’t know I dated Owen.” I say it to Summer, but it’s more of a reassurance for myself.

“Not to point out the obvious, but that’s a man who knows more than you think.”

I swallow, watching the hostile interaction between Elias and Owen. Even when Aiden approaches, Elias ignores whatever his friend says, and skates to shoot a practice shot in the net. It flies right by Socket with a precision that makes the fans behind me cheer.

Fidgeting with my hands, I feel an odd sensation in my gut.

“You okay?” Summer places a hand on my bouncing leg.

“I should have told him.” I chew my lip.

Summer laughs and shakes her head. “I know Eli doesn’t share a lot of his feelings, but trust me, being mad at you would never be one of them.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because he likes you.”

I choke on her words, or maybe a lonesome kernel from my handful of popcorn. Summer hands me her drink, and I swallow some of it.

There are a lot of questions in my head, but all of them go unanswered because Summer is already up and yelling at the refs as the game continues.

Elias does not like me. If he did, he would have at least kissed me by now. The only time he’s said he likes me was when I was a blubbering mess in his bathroom. He practically had to say it then.

For the rest of the game, I’m stewing in my thoughts, but I’m pulled right out when there’s a breakaway. The arena echoes with the crowd’s roar, and Elias surges forward, hungry for what he knows is his. I’m stiff with anticipation, willing him to succeed. He seems different, a new purpose behind his blades as he sprints forward.

The puck is glued to his stick, then he releases a wrist shot that cuts through the air, and time suspends just as the horns blare.

He scored. Elias scored his first career goal.

The crowd behind me goes ballistic. My heart pounds, and my scream is so loud I know my throat is going to be sore tomorrow. We bang against the plexiglass and watch as Elias does a short lap around the side of the rink. When he sees Summer and me waving at him, he cracks a smile. He bumps against the glass, putting his gloved hand right where mine meets the plexi, and even with the barrier I feel the warmth of his touch.

When he’s skating away, his teammates pile on top of him. My eyes blur with tears, especially when the Jumbotron shows the executive suite where my uncle fails to celebrate, but I know he’s happy.

In the remaining two periods, Elias manages to score two more times with an assist from Aiden and a surprising one from Owen. The hat trick sends the crowd into a frenzy, and I’m celebrating with anyone and everyone, knocking over bags of popcorn and tripping out of my seat. Summer and I are hugging each other by the end of it, and I can feel the energy of the crowd vibrating through me.

Elias has worked so hard. I’ve seen him beating himself up over not having the goal and how the media treats him. But now it all feels worth it. It’s a middle finger to everyone who doubted him.

While the arena slowly empties, Summer pulls me down a narrow hall toward the dressing rooms. She hasn’t let go of my arm, and it makes me smile. The security guards greet us, and we easily move through to wait for the guys. My earlier anxiety practically disappears as I hear the way everyone talks about Elias. It’s a little late, but I couldn’t be happier that he’s finally getting the recognition he deserves.

When Elias finally appears in the hall, I can’t help but jump. This is huge, and even if he’s not wearing a smile, I’ll wear one for him.

“You did it!”

He pulls the strap of his bag higher on his shoulder, and he surveys the jersey I’m wearing. But even though there’s a flicker of something behind his eyes, he only gives me a tight smile in response. It pricks at my chest that he’s not happy, so I tiptoe to wrap my arms around his neck and pull him in for a hug. He stumbles, not touching me at all, but I don’t let it deter the strength of my grip.

“I’m proud of you,” I whisper into his neck, squeezing him tightly.

Then with a deep, rumbling sigh, he slides his arms around my waist and lifts me off my feet. “Thank you,” he says softly and puts me down way too soon.

Socket pops out of the locker room and slaps a hand on Elias’s back. “Drinks on you. That was one hell of a first goal.”

“Well worth the wait,” says Aiden, grinning wide as he ruffles a hand through Elias’s overgrown hair.

Elias shrugs Aiden off, fixing his hair, as if it could look any better.

“I’d say you had your good luck charm,” Summer says, bumping me with her shoulder.

Elias’s expression is blank. “Send me the bill. I’m going to head home.”

Socket steps in front of him. “You’re not getting off the hook that easily. It’s your first goal, and you know the rules.”

“He’s right, Eli. You gotta pay your dues. We all did.” Aiden turns to the group of guys gathered in the hallway. “Drinks at our place. Everyone’s invited.”

My gaze darts to Elias, who appears resigned and nods. The guys holler and pat him on the back as they pile into their cars to follow us to the apartment. Aiden and Summer head to the car, and Elias finally moves when the hallway clears out.

I can’t handle the sudden silent treatment. I won’t stand here and let him get away with this sulky act of misery. Especially not on the biggest night of his rookie career.

When he opens the passenger-side door for me, I start to say something, but with both his friends in the car I remain silent.

There’s a sinking feeling in my stomach when he shuts my door. As we pull out of the parking lot, Elias stops to sign a few autographs out his window first.

“Sign my forehead!”

“Can you say hi to my son? He loves you.”

Elias happily obliges all their requests, making small talk that he had to have learned in media training. Though he’s got a reputation for being the quiet golden boy, so I assume everyone knows how he is. But he handles it all with aplomb.

A few of them say hi to Summer and me. One young girl lights up when she notices I’m in the car. “Your performance in last year’s Giselle was beautiful!”

I’m so shocked, it takes me a full beat to process what she’s said. Elias turns to me, gauging my reaction. He wears a faint, proud smile.

I have never been praised for a performance months after it’s taken place. I’ve always assumed it’s because I’m not a memorable ballerina. But being recognized here, outside a hockey arena in downtown Toronto, for my performance in a small showcase I did last winter, plants a happy hum in my heart. I thank the girl who doesn’t realize the impact her words have on me, especially when I’ve been down about not getting an audition for Swan Lake.

Summer excitedly squeezes my shoulder from behind me.

When the window whirs shut, the smile on my face goes nowhere. We drive to the apartment, and the quiet settles back in. I’m reminded of the seemingly simmering man in the seat beside me. But I’m a determined woman, so I won’t let Elias get away with his solemn attitude.