Spiral (Off the Ice Book 2)
Spiral: Chapter 6

THE WATER IS fucking cold.

The moment the bare skin of my ankles meets the icy lake, I can almost hear it sizzle. But I don’t let it deter me from stepping further into the water to have it immediately soothe my sore feet. Elias comes in after me, but he stays a safe distance away at the bank.

As I move further into the tranquil lake with my jeans rolled up, my gaze fixes on the gentle ripples in the water stretching out before me. The air is filled with the rustle of leaves and the faint chirping of crickets. The sound of miniature crashing waves and the smell of fresh water calm me. The only light comes from the full moon right above us, and I can almost see my distorted reflection in the water.

“It’s peaceful, isn’t it?” I say after a beat.

He doesn’t answer, but I know he’s looking up at the moon too. Then the rhythmic splashing of water behind me echoes through the quiet surroundings. There’s a spiky awareness on my skin when the warmth of Elias’s arm brushes against mine.

“Why do I feel like this isn’t your first time doing this?” he says. “Frankly, I’m surprised you aren’t skinny-dipping.”

I bite down a smile. “You think I’m wild?”

“We’re standing in a Great Lake,” he says matter-of-factly.

“It’s kind of hot that you know your bodies of water.” I gather my hair and fail to twist it into a bun. “And skinny-dipping requires nudity, and I don’t think you’re a ‘second base on a first date’ kind of guy.”

He only shakes his head with a humored exhale.

“We can go all the way if you want. You first.” I glance down, staring at the dark fabric of his pants.

“Do you come here a lot?” he asks, ignoring my suggestion.

I move my foot under the water, disturbing the smooth pebbles. “When I was a teenager, I’d be here every weekend. Just to escape.”

“And today?” he asks.

I bend to scoop up a pebble and attempt to skip it across the water. It sinks immediately. “Sometimes when things aren’t going my way, it’s nice to drown out the noise. Literally.”

He watches me for a long minute like my words mean something more to him. Before the gaze becomes uncomfortable, he looks away to stare at the sky.

“What’s not going your way?” he prods.

“Well, right now, you refusing to skinny-dip,” I say seriously, but when that stony look returns to his face, I laugh.

“Ballet,” I admit. “I’ve been trying to secure an audition to become a principal dancer for the production of Swan Lake, but I haven’t gotten the chance. They’ve opened auditions, yet they’re cherry-picking ballerinas with strong social media followings to drive ticket sales. One of the directors quit a few months ago because she said it was unethical.”

Elias listens quietly, not once interrupting me. It feels good to finally let out what’s been on my mind without being told this is a dead-end career.

“So, what are you going to do?”

“Find a way to become an overnight internet sensation.” I flash him a plastic smile.

“Trust me, it’s not what it’s cracked up to be.” There’s a faraway look in his eyes. I guess a stalker—even a nonviolent one like Lana—isn’t something anyone wants to deal with.

This time there is something different about his closed-off exterior. Something vulnerable. I can’t help but strike while the iron’s hot. “What about you? Do you ever want to escape?”

“Doesn’t everyone?”

Just when I think he’s not going to give me a real response, he exhales and takes one of the rocks from my hand to skip it across the water. He manages to make the rock skip six times on his first try. Show-off.

“Ever since I’ve gotten to the NHL, it’s like the media’s discovered fresh meat and they want to utilize every scrap of it. As soon as they realized the fans enjoyed hearing about the newest rookie, they put my face under any headline that would get them views.”

I give him a sympathetic smile. “Are the articles that bad?”

His eyes flicker with something new when he looks at me. “You haven’t seen them?”

“Between work and auditions, gossip isn’t on my radar.”

He wears an appreciative smile before he turns to face the water again. I try to skip another rock. It plummets.

“When I first came to the league, they were praising me. So much that our social media team wanted to use me for every video.” He pauses, playing with the asymmetrical rock before dropping it. “I haven’t been performing like I expected myself to. Like everyone expected me to.”

“I can’t imagine it’s easy to focus with all the media stuff.”

We stare at the water glimmering under the moonlight. The waves distort the reflection.

“Do you want me to teach you how to skip rocks?”

From the flip in conversation and his shuttered eyes, I can see that topic isn’t something he enjoys talking about. Especially not to some girl he doesn’t know very well.

“Please.”

“Okay. First, you want to feel the weight. It should be heavy enough for some momentum and light enough to skip.” He takes my hand and drops a stone in my palm. “That one’s perfect.”

I nod, mimicking his actions and running my hands over the smooth surface. It fits perfectly in the curve of my hand. Elias bends to pick up another stone, turning it over in his hand to find one that meets his standards.

“Grip it like this.” He places my fingers on the contours of the stone, and there’s a buzzing sensation in my ears when he’s close enough that I can smell his fresh cologne. “Start close to the water, then flick your wrist as you release.”

I do as he says, focusing on the angle, and I let it fly. Just when I think I did it, it barely skips and sinks into the water. “I give up,” I mutter.

“Nah, you’re not a quitter.”

I snort. “Not the first time a guy’s told me that.”

He stiffens, and I deadpan. Man, he’s so easy to make uncomfortable. It’s kind of my favorite thing.

“Try again, Sage,” he says, a reprimand in his tone.

This time I flick it with a little help from him, and it skips. Once, twice, three times, and four before it sinks.

“It worked!” I jump, and in a moment of unrestrained excitement, I push him a little too hard. He tips over, completely caught off guard by the sudden push. He curses, and I almost yell, Timber! but he grabs my hand. I fall right on top of him in the shallow water.

He grunts when his ass hits the water with a splash, his wet arm slides around my waist and soaks the fabric of my lavender blouse. I’m crushed against his warm body, and the hardness of it does not surprise me at all. It only adds to the catalog of images of him I’ve stored in my brain. With my hands on his chest, I push back, still awkwardly on his lap.

“You grabbed me!” I splash him with water.

Even as I try to act angry because my jeans are completely soaked, I can’t help the laugh that bursts out of me. He finally laughs too, and hearing that sound is almost as euphoric as the applause after a performance.

He wipes water from his face and gives me a narrow-eyed look. “Me? You’re the one who pushed me.”

I shrug, staring at his brown eyes that look up at me innocently. I decide not to make any remark about how wet we both are.

When the water starts to feel warm against my skin, I have the urge to float around untethered. Something I used to do in high school. But now, there’s a split second where I want Elias to hold me tighter, to make me not feel so free—like there’s something to anchor me. Something that wants to anchor me.

Instead, I let him help me up. “Come on, I have some extra clothes in my car,” Elias says.

I wipe my wet palms on my shirt and follow him back to his car. He picks up his shoes and phone on the way back, and I shiver as I wait for him to unlock the trunk.

Elias holds out a towel, and I silently take it, drying off as he shuffles through a large bag. He hands me a T-shirt and shorts. Both are extra-large, but I can’t complain. I don’t want to sit in my soaked underwear the entire ride home.

Under the privacy of the white towel, I change into the baggy Toronto Thunder T-shirt and gray shorts. I roll the waistband three times to keep from flashing him. By the time I turn around, he’s changed, and my wet clothes are in a bag, along with my heels.

He takes me home, and like a gentleman, he walks me right to my door. Not once does he mention the state of the run-down apartment or my scuffed door, which looks like rabid animals tried to gnaw their way inside.

“Thanks for the date. I had fun,” I say.

Elias lingers at the door, and I’m secretly hoping he kisses me. Because even though I’ve never kissed anyone on the first date, I’d make an exception for him.

But the kiss doesn’t come, and Elias takes a step back. “Good night, Sage.”

I smile at him, and he walks away, down the path and to where his car is parked.

And just like him, the smile disappears from my face.