Page 164 of Icing on the Cake

By the time I finish my coffee, I still don’t have a plan. I stare at the ceiling and think about how easy it is for Elliot to balance everything—his friendships, our relationship, his schoolwork—while I’m here struggling with something as simple as a blog.

My phone buzzes, pulling me out of my hectic thoughts.

Jackson

Had a blast today! Just dropped Elliot off.

I stare at the screen longer than I should before typing back.

Me

Thanks for looking out for him.

Jackson replies almost instantly.

Jackson

No problem :)

I set my phone down and sigh. “Here’s the problem, Sarah. Everyone is possible but also impossible at the same time.”

Sarah tilts her head and studies me with a thoughtful expression. “Maybe that’s the whole point. Maybe the Ice Queen doesn’t want to be discovered. Think about it, Gerard. Wouldn’t she have dropped more obvious hints if she wanted you to know who she was?”

I frown, turning the idea over in my mind. Could Sarah be right? Could the Ice Queen’s plan be to remain undetected? To keep me guessing and obsessing over her identity? The thought is both frustrating and intriguing.

Sarah reaches across the table and pats my hand. “Hey, don’t stress over it too much. The Ice Queensaid she’d back off now that you and Elliot are in love, right? Maybe let the mystery be—for now—and focus on what truly matters.”

She’s right. I’ve got the most amazing guy by my side, and that’s what truly matters. The Ice Queen can keep her secrets—for a little while longer.

“Speaking of Elliot,” I say, changing the subject, “he promised to do some karaoke at the Hockey House New Year’s Eve party tonight. You should come. The party starts at nine, but feel free to show up earlier and hang out.”

Sarah nods, gathers her belongings, and stands up. “I’ll be there with bells on. Literally. I have a festive headband with bells on it.”

“I can’t wait to see that. Thanks for the chat, Sarah. You sure know how to put things in perspective.”

“I know.” Sarah smiles, pulling me into a quick hug. “Now, go get ready for your party. And don’t forget to wear something that shows off that hockey butt of yours. Elliot will appreciate it.”

I snort. “I’ll keep that in mind. See you tonight, Sarah.”

Streamers and balloonsin glittering golds and silvers hang from every surface, catching the light from the strobes and disco balls. Every room in the house is filled with laughter, chatter, and the pulsing beat of the DJ’s playlist. Right now, our guests are singing and dancing along to “All Night” by Icona Pop.

I weave through the crowd, exchanging fist bumps and high-fives with my teammates and friends. The euphoria of the impending new year is infectious, and I have a permanent grin on my face as I make my way toward the makeshift stage in the living room.

Elliot’s already there, gripping the microphone stand as he waits for the song to end. There’s a sheen of sweat on his brow,and his chest rises and falls with every breath. He looks like he’s about to puke, and my heart aches for him.

My sarcastic, guarded Elliot is putting himself out there in front of everyone—for me—because he knows how much I love to hear him sing.

The DJ fiddles with the controls, and his eyes dart around the room, searching for me. When our gazes lock, I give him a reassuring smile and a thumbs-up, trying to convey all my love and support in that simple gesture.

He visibly relaxes, his grip on the mic loosening slightly, and mouths, “I love you.”

I tell him I love him back before the music starts, and he serenades me with Meghan Trainor’s “Like I’m Gonna Lose You.”

Suddenly, nothing else matters. The flashing lights and the thumping bass disappear until it’s only Elliot, his voice, and the words he sings just for me.

His eyes never leave mine as he pours his heart out to me. I don’t know how I got this lucky to end up with him. I’m determined to cherish every moment I spend with Elliot because—as the song says—tomorrow is never promised, and a life without Elliot is not worth living.

When he finishes his performance, he’s met with thunderous applause—mine being the loudest. He jumps off the stage and into my waiting arms, burying his face in my chest as I hold him tight.

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