Page 51 of Flirty Pucking Wolf

“Do you need us for anything, Jake?” Trevor asks.

“No, we’re okay. Sophie, I promise we’re going to do everything we can to work this out. It’s not right for you to be impacted by the league’s stupidity.” Jake sighs and shakes his head. “You’ve both worked so hard and deserve to be rewarded for it. I’m sorry. If I knew this was a possibility, I’d have told the league to shove doing the show up their ass.”

He’s such a nice man. “Thanks, Jake. It’s okay. It’s just a dance. The show will go on, regardless.”

That’s what I tell myself. It’s just a dance. One dance. I’ve proven what I can do all season long. I’m either good enough or not. And if I’m not? Well, I’ll have to accept that. Even if I knew this was how this was going to end, I wouldn’t have traded this opportunity to dance with Trevor and fall in love with him. I wish I could cast a spell that would make Trevor being in two places at once possible. Unfortunately, not even Teagan is a powerful enough witch to make that happen.

We’re quiet on the drive home. I’m not mad at Trevor. I’m not mad at anyone. There’s no point. In the pool house, I run an Epsom salt bath for Trevor to soak in. It was a very physical game, and Trevor was involved in some massive hits—giving and receiving—and it’ll help relieve the aches and pains. I climb in with him because it soothes my ankle, and being near him soothes my heart.

Now that we don’t have a deadline on our relationship, the desperation to make love—because that’s what we’ve been doing—isn’t as strong. We still want each other, of course, but we know we have time. It’s not now or never.

Later, I’m the little spoon to Trevor’s big spoon in our bed.

“Trevor, it’s okay,” I say into the darkness. I know this is weighing heavily on him, and I hate that. He should revel in being the team hero these past two games. He should be looking forward to winning this series and then rolling through the Dickinson Cup playoffs. They can win the whole thing. Trevor deserves this. He didn’t ask to doCelebrity Dance Dare. He was told he had to do it and was a good enough sport to go along with it and try his best. He doesn’t owe me or the show anything.

* * *

Trevor drives me to the airport in the early morning. I’m traveling to New York with Jake, who’s on a mission to make this work out so Trevor can do both events. Trevor will ride with the team on the bus later this morning. We’re in separate hotels tonight, but tomorrow night we’ll be together again. It’ll be weird to not sleep in his arms, but I’ll have to get used to it. We each have busy lives with lots of travel. I spend our flight with my head resting against the helicopter window, listening to Jake type away on his laptop. The rhythm makes me think of tap dancing, and an idea for a routine develops.

It’s weird to be at the dance studio without Trevor at my side. The wardrobe folks insist on having final dance outfits ready for me and Trevor because “miracles happen.” I don’t know what fantasyland they live in, but in my world, there’s no point hoping for miracles because there’s only disappointment when you don’t get them. Being around the crew of the show as just a dancer in the troupe is strangely comforting. I don’t need to worry about Trevor being okay, not letting nerves get to him. This is what I love about the show. The buzz backstage, talking to the other dancers, not having my attention divided. Of course, I loved dancing with Trevor, but I think it’s mainly because it was with Trevor.

“Hey, twinster,” Ian says, joining me in the wardrobe room. “Are you okay?”

Shrugging, I sigh. There’s no point in saying anything. Ian knows what I’m thinking.

“You guys have a dance, right? It’s all choreographed?”

“Of course. Oh, Ian, it’s beautiful. Do you wanna see?”

At his nod, I grab my phone and scroll to the video we shot. It’s not a perfect recording, but good enough. The song ends, and Ian just stares at the screen.

“Wow,” my brother says. “That’s the best thing you’ve ever choreographed. It’s beautiful. It needs to be seen.”

Shrugging, I put my phone away. “We’ll see what happens. It’s enough that it exists.”

“Bullshit!” He stomps away, only to turn around and stalk back to me. “And stop being so Zen. It’s creepy.”

I huff out a laugh. Being creepy is the least of my issues.

Ian fists his hands on his hips. “You’re dancing that dance on the finale. If Trevor isn’t here, I’ll dance it with you. They’ll be short a number and have already cleared the music, so the producers won’t have a problem.” He wraps his arm around my shoulders. “The two of you are wonderful together.”

“Yeah, he’s an excellent dancer.”

He chuckles. “I don’t mean as a dance team. I mean, as a couple, you’re right for each other. I’m glad you found that.”

“How do you know? You only see us one day a week.”

“I talk to Declan. By the way, we need to start the betting pools on when he and Miranda get engaged, when the wedding will be, and how long before we have a little niece or nephew.”

“Declan likes us together?” He never said he didn’t, but I didn’t know if that was approval or minding his own business.

“Very much. He respects Trevor and appreciates how he treats you.”

Tears fill my eyes. I like that my brothers approve. I lean forward and wrap Ian in a fierce hug.

“I’m so glad you’re here, Ian,” I whisper past my tight throat. I can’t imagine having to go through today alone.

He hugs me back, presses a kiss to my hair. “Even though I’m horning in on your show? I’m sorry, Sophie. I didn’t think about how you’d feel with me showing up. This was your chance to be in the spotlight, and I think I hogged some of it. I’m a selfish clod sometimes. I didn’t think about how advancing my career was going to make yours harder.”

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