Spiral (Off the Ice Book 2)
Spiral: Chapter 39

AS I STEP into the kitchen on a Saturday afternoon, I’m wrapped in a stomach-growling aroma. It’s been weeks and we’ve been stocked with fresh baked goods. When he sees me, Elias lifts me onto the counter. He hands me a bowl of strawberries, as if to keep me occupied, like I’m some annoying child who would distract him. It makes me smile anyway.

“Do I get to help?” I ask.

He pipes frosting onto a batch of cupcakes. “Sit there and be a good girl, Sage.”

My thighs squeeze involuntarily. He called me that over and over this morning when I dropped to my knees in the shower. But the way he pulled my hair and urged my head further down on him did not make me feel like a good girl at all. Quite the opposite, actually.

“Why are you making cupcakes?”

“Just trying something new.” He places one on his palm and turns to me with a boyish smile. Like a student showing the teacher their finished artwork. “Open your mouth.”

“And you say I’m inappropriate.”

“Just do it, baby.”

I comply, savoring the cupcake as he feeds me the first bite. I hum out a grateful sound. He chuckles, handing me the whole thing before tending to the rest.

“That is so good. It tastes different, what did you put in it?”

“They’re sugar-free,” he says.

A fist grips my heart. “Why?”

Elias doesn’t look at me, but I know he hears the hitch in my voice. Once he’s finished with the cupcakes, he trails his hands up my thighs and pulls me to the edge of the counter. “Probably been a while since Sean’s had a good cupcake.”

My heart explodes into a mini fireworks show. But Elias doesn’t let me say thank you. Instead, he kisses me, and those fireworks burst in my mouth too. He tilts my head up and slips his tongue between my lips. I let him kiss me however he wants, and I enjoy the taste of him mingling with the vanilla icing.

When I tighten my legs around his hips, the fabric of his jeans rubs along the inside of my thighs. He breaks the kiss abruptly.

“Easy,” he warns, reminding me of Sean’s proximity.

I reluctantly let him pull away.

My little brother is a few doors down the hall in the shower. Sean is with us this weekend because he wanted to make up for missing my birthday. He stays at school all year long, and never complains, but it must be torture.

We picked him up from school this morning, and after Elias made us lunch, Sean drilled both of us about our relationship like an overprotective father.

“You have an excessive number of cherry-scented candles in your bathroom,” Sean says when he walks into the kitchen in a fresh T-shirt and basketball shorts.

Elias offers him a cupcake and he’s about to refuse before Elias says, “Sugar-free.”

Sean blinks, staring at the white frosting for a long time. We watch him with anticipation, and I notice his glossy eyes. They mirror my own, because the way he looks at my boyfriend is the same way he looked at our uncle when he asked Sean if he wanted to try out for junior hockey. In awe.

He doesn’t say a word when he takes a bite, but his eyes sparkle. “Is there anything you can’t do?” he says through a mouthful.

“Don’t inflate his ego.” I roll my eyes even though I know those cupcakes are damn good.

“Ah, never mind, there it is. You can’t make my sister shut up,” Sean remarks.

Elias’s laugh is muffled into his fist. When I gasp in offense, he clears his throat. “Yeah, but I’m not a big fan of the silence anymore.”

I narrow my eyes at Sean. “You would be bored out of your mind without me.”

“Doubt it,” he mumbles, still chewing. I chuck an oven mitt at him; he catches it effortlessly. Damn athletes and their stupid reflexes. “I’m kidding!”

Aiden’s voice echoes from the living room, and Sean hastily stuffs the entire cupcake into his mouth, giving Elias a muffled thanks. The lively sounds of a cheering crowd emanate from the living room. It’s the newest NHL video game that was released this month. This one features a mix of new and classic players, including Summer’s dad, Lukas Preston.

When I turn back to Elias, he lets me take the bag of icing and pipe some onto the extra cupcakes. Another batch comes out of the oven, and I help with those too.

Elias’s phone pings on the counter, and when he glances at it, his expression drops.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

His shoulders tense. “It’s the wire transfer text for the money I send to my biological dad.”

“Oh.” I try not to involve myself more than I should. But I can’t help it. “I don’t know how you do it. You shouldn’t have to give him your hard-earned money because of a lie. It’s not fair, Elias.”

“I have no choice.”

“You do,” I assure him. “The girl who your dad paid came clean, and your parents would do anything to protect you. Nobody will fault you for being manipulated.”

“I don’t want anyone else getting involved in my mess after all these years. I have you now, and I’d hate for people to question your character because of rumors about me. I won’t let that happen.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “Do I look weak to you?”

“Not at all.”

“Then stop worrying about me. Decide for yourself if you want to live your life with the feeling you just had after reading that text.” I press my hand on his shoulder. “I’m here for you. Every step of the way.”

After a long, tense minute, he nods. “I’ll think about it.”

It’s frustrating watching him endure his dad’s rhetoric, but I recognize this isn’t the moment to intervene. “Cupcakes for dinner are perfect,” I say, changing the topic. “But I’m kind of a responsible guardian, so I have to feed that kid something nutritious.”

Elias chuckles, his shoulder relaxing. “We’re going out to dinner. It’ll be a little celebration for you securing Swan Lake.”

I agree, only because Sean will love it. But if it were just us, I’d much rather have Elias cook dinner, watch Dirty Dancing on the couch, try my new face masks, and spend the night in his arms. And maybe on his thigh.

When the evening sky dips into a pretty midnight blue, we head out. Aiden stayed at home because he has a virtual date with Summer. Something about a special episode of their favorite show airing tonight.

For the most part the car ride to the undisclosed restaurant is silent, aside from Sean’s music playing on the speakers.

“I’ve decided I’m going to Dalton for college,” Sean announces.

My head whips to him. “I thought you were aiming for a hockey scholarship to Yale?”

“Haven’t you heard? Yale is the enemy.” He sounds dead serious. It seems like him hanging with Aiden and playing video games with the rest of the guys online has resulted in a successful brainwashing. “Besides, Dalton beat them, and I want to carry on the legacy.”

I snort. “They were ahead by one at the Frozen Four. I’d hardly count that as a victory.”

Elias gives me a sidelong glance. “Oh yeah? You wanna say that to my face?”

Rolling my eyes, I look over my shoulder to see Sean laughing. Ignoring the two Dalton cronies, I stare out the window as we approach the CN Tower.

“Is that … ?”

“We’re going to the revolving restaurant?” Sean asks in excitement.

It’s the restaurant where Elias and I had our first date. The memories hit me instantly, and my mind skips to the two of us standing by the water, settling in the comfortable silence.

Elias smiles. He’s so nonchalant, it’s like he’s taking us to a fast-food chain. The restaurant is primarily haute cuisine, and usually after big showcases, this is where dancers like to go. I’d always opt out and heat up a frozen dinner at my apartment instead.

“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.”