Spiral (Off the Ice Book 2)
Spiral: Chapter 33

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.

I expected my days to be filled with us in bed, but with her NBT audition in two weeks, that’s all she can think about. On game days, I start my morning with a short walk, then come home to a bath Sage runs for me and a book from Summer’s collection. Sage usually gets home just in time for dinner, likely because I make something different every day and because I let her put whatever face mask she wants on my face. Today is one of those days, and I’m in the kitchen, baking lasagna while watching each minute tick by on the oven’s digital clock.

“They had fresh baked rolls at the supermarket,” Sage announces, her voice mingling with the creak of the door and the jingle of her keys. She smiles brightly when she spots me, but the exhaustion on her face is evident. Her curly hair has flyaways framing her face, and the faint bags under her eyes reveal she hasn’t been sleeping well.

Sage walks past me to put the bread rolls on the counter, but before she can slip away, I pull her in by her waist. In seconds, she melts into me, and I practically have to hold her up. When she allows herself to relax with me, it ushers my brain into euphoria.

Sage doesn’t allow people in as easily as she pretends. She hides her guarded heart beneath a cloak of openness that not many have the privilege to pull back. It’s when I saw her break down over her rejections and Sean’s absence at her birthday that I realized Sage just wants to be taken care of without asking for it. To be known without reopening old wounds that have barely healed after all these years. There’s an unsnappable string that tethers me to her, and the more I ignore it, the tighter it becomes. I would take all her problems, but she doesn’t need to take mine—not when she’s just managed to get a shot at her dream. I’d never hold her back.

“I think your lasagna is burning.” Sage’s voice is muffled by the fabric of my shirt. I jerk back to turn off the oven before I blacken the layer of cheese on top.

“Got a scent for fires?” I tap her nose.

“Oh yeah, I’m practically a smoke alarm now.”

Sage moves to the cupboard to grab plates to set the table like every night. “Aiden’s out with Summer. It’s just us tonight,” I say.

“Right, she texted me earlier.” She removes a set of plates. “By the way, I officially got out of my lease for my apartment. I can stay here for a few more weeks, if you still want that.”

“Of course I want that, Sage. I would never let you go back there.”

“It wasn’t that bad. That place is the only reason I could afford ballet. And the rats only chewed my laptop wire sometimes.”

I chuckle, and pull her toward me, taking the plates from her grip to set them on the counter. Her gaze bounces between my lips and my eyes, and I can’t help but smirk. We haven’t talked about our time in the bathtub or where I stand with my celibacy, so she’s hesitant when we get this close. The only reason I hold back is because of that vow and the pressure it would put on her if I broke it. It would be so damn easy to hike her up on the counter and feel the warmth of her on me, but I know Sage, and I know how much this one thing could complicate everything. I won’t be another person that takes from her. Because I know if I have her in the way that I want, there’s no going back for me.

Our rules are good. We’re both clear about when this is ending, and we’ll both have what we started this for: her with her spot in NBT, and me with my place in the Thunder secured.

But right now, as we teeter a fine line, Sage’s hands fist my shirt, and quick heartbeats thud against mine. I hold back from kissing her because I know if we start, I won’t be able to stop until the lasagna’s gone ice cold.

“How was your day?” I say instead.

Sage’s expression drops. “Good. Except for the fact that my fouettés feel off even though I’ve done them a million times. And my jump is heavy and sluggish. Oh, and don’t get me started on Sean’s grade for his physics exam.”

She pinches the bridge of her nose. Of course, on top of all that she’s thinking about her brother too.

“Sean is a smart kid. I’m sure he’ll ace his other exams.” He better. “You need to focus on yourself. You’re exhausted, get some rest and I’m sure you’ll be perfect for audition day.” To alleviate the stress from her features, I massage her temples and watch her relax with each circular motion.

“Sometimes I think you do too much for me.”

“Nothing is too much when it comes to you.”

Our gazes lock, and this time I don’t have the strength to ignore the magnetic pull. She hums into my mouth like she missed the feeling. I did too, and I show her exactly that when I deepen the kiss. We’ve been straying from the touches that lead to more to not aggravate my sore muscles, and although it’s been torture, everything from that first night in my bathtub is still fresh enough to keep me company all day.

Suddenly, Sage jerks back. I watch her through hazy vision, still feeling the ghost of her lips on mine.

“How’s your headache? And did you take the Epsom salt bath I drew for you this morning?”

And she thinks I do too much for her. “I’m great, and so was the bath. Just waiting for Dr. Harris to clear me to play.”

“Good.” She thinks for a minute. “Okay, you can kiss me again.”

“Thank you,” I say with a smile against her lips.

The rest of our evening is spent watching the second game of the finals with panda face masks and Sage in my lap lulled into sleep by the sound of the reporters and my hands playing with her hair. It’s chaotic, yet she appears peaceful. At this moment, I’m sure that even this damn injury is worth it if this is how I get to spend my nights. Even if it’s just for now.