8. Sophie

8

SOPHIE

I watch Trevor skate with his teammates for a few minutes and record him. I think I can adapt some of the plays they run into dance moves.

“Hey, wasn’t expecting to see you here,” Miranda says as she sits next to me. My brother and Bedard are joining the others on the ice.

“We finished in New York early,” I say, “and Teagan is letting us use her helicopter, so it’s only about an hour getting back here. We’re being incredibly spoiled.”

Miranda nods. “You should be spoiled. Trev being on Celebrity Dance Dare is a tremendous marketing opportunity for the Devil Birds and the PHL. All the dance practice plus the travel and playing hockey is going to be exhausting. For both of you. Take advantage of any perks you can to preserve your energy.”

The noise in the rink increases as kids arrive with their parents.

“Let’s go up in the stands so the kids can use the benches to get their skates on.”

I follow her up a few rows and settle in a pair of seats at center ice. The practice rink is a full-sized sheet of ice but doesn’t have as much seating as the main rink, so we can all see the action. Local schools and recreation leagues use this rink for their games and practices.

“I have grown-up hot cocoa,” Miranda says, holding up a thermos. “Want some?”

That sounds intriguing and slightly inappropriate for a kids’ hockey practice. Totally my sort of thing.

“Sure,” I say. “What makes it grown-up?”

“Peppermint schnapps. For you, it’ll just be flavoring, not enough to make you tipsy. It won’t even make me tipsy. But it makes these practices more fun.”

Shrugging, I nod. She reaches into her bag and pulls out a big thermos and two cups. Just then, Kendall plops into the seat next to Miranda.

“Ooh, just in time for cocoa! I have the cookies.” She pulls a bakery box out of her bag. I feel less silly about the random stuff I carry, like dance shoes, tights, and dance clothes. “The pink dress you were wearing, is that yours?”

I nod.

“Where did you get it? I think we’re about the same size.”

Miranda snorts as she grabs more cups out of her bag, hands them to Kendall, and starts pouring. “Same size? You’re practically twins! You both have blond hair and blue eyes. Tiny. I’d believe Kendall’s your sister before thinking Declan is your brother.”

She hands one to me. “That’s for Mallory.”

That’s when I notice Mallory on my other side. I was so focused on the cocoa commotion that I didn’t register someone sitting inches away from me. Thanks for looking out for me , I tell my wolf. She just curls into a tighter ball and plops her tail over her eyes. My shifter is firmly in decorative mode, no function to be found. Awesome.

I hand Mallory the cup Miranda poured.

“Thanks!” she says, pushing her coppery hair over her shoulder with the hand not holding the cocoa. She and Trevor have similar coloring, but Mallory’s is morevibrant. Her hair is redder; her eyes are green to his hazel. They are both outgoing. “I saw you and Trev on the morning show. You looked great! Did you know your brother was going to be a host?”

“Oh, yeah,” Daphne says from the other side of Mallory, “you looked shocked. Had it been a secret, or are you that good of an actress?”

Before I can say anything, Miranda hands me another cup of cocoa. “That’s for Daphne. No booze.”

“Thanks, sweetie!” Daphne leans back to say. Her hand is resting on her belly, rubbing soothing circles. Daphne is adorable, but she’s loud. In a happy way. But it’s still a lot. Birdie is probably going to be able to sleep through anything. Birdie is the nickname they have for the baby since Logan is a golden eagle shifter. They don’t know if they are having a boy or girl yet so Birdie is their default name for their child for now.

I accept my cup from Miranda and take a cautious sip. It’s warm but not scalding hot. We can drink it right away. I taste the peppermint, and while I always think my family’s whisky is the proper choice for alcohol, this is refreshing.

Remembering Daphne asked me a question, I swallow my cocoa and answer. “Total surprise. I assumed he was enjoying the hiatus before his show starts again in May. He never told me he was interested in hosting. I thought his plan was to dance and maybe eventually become a judge like our mother.”

“Are all of your brothers gorgeous?” Mallory asks.

Before I can answer, Miranda shouts, “Yes!”

I eye her cup. Did she add extra schnapps to hers? She’s usually so soft-spoken that her outburst takes me by surprise. Maybe she needs to stick to the plain cocoa Daphne’s drinking. I sink down in my seat to hide from the parents who glance up at us.

Miranda just waves. “Declan is the most handsome, of course, but they’re all gorgeous.”

“Are they all single?” Mallory asks. “I have an older sister I wouldn’t mind shipping off to the other side of the Atlantic some days.”

“The twins, Patrick and Owen, are,” I say. “They’re a year older than I am. My younger brother, Seamus, has a girlfriend, but I’m not sure how serious it is. My twin, Ian, has a partner, Peter. He’s a dancer on the show too. They’ve been together for almost two years.”

“Does it bother you?” Kendall asks.

I’m shocked she’d ask something so rude. “No,” I say frostily. “My brother is happy, and Peter is wonderful. Love is love.”

Kendall blinks a few times and then shakes her head. “No! Oh my god, I’m sorry. I meant, does it bother you he’s going to be on the show? My cousin Andy and his fiancé Harrison are my next-door neighbors and close friends. I’m absolutely with you on the love is love train.”

I relax, slightly embarrassed I jumped to the conclusion I did. I’m protective of Ian. Not that being a gay man in the ballroom dance scene is unusual, but growing up, there were a lot of teasing and snide remarks. No one would say it to his face because of who our mother is. Being a massive wolf shifter probably helped keep lips zipped too. But that didn’t stop them from gossiping where I could hear it. When I’d get upset, Ian would just laugh and say they were jealous he was a better dancer and more fabulous than they were. And that he wouldn’t hook up with them. He was way better at recognizing predatory sleazes for who they were than I was.

After Ian and I stopped dancing together, I thought I was in love with an older man who claimed he wanted to be my partner on and off the floor. Turns out he just wanted another notch on his bedpost and the opportunity to be close to my mother in hopes of being tapped for a pro spot on the show. I wish I could say I only fell for that scheme once, but younger-me was a slow learner, and it took me two more times to realize they weren’t in love with me. They wanted the connections and advantages being with me brought. Now when I hook up, I know that’s all it is. Mutual pleasure, no promises, no future. I can’t give them what they want anyway, so why pretend?

I haven’t been with anyone in over a year. Dance has been my focus. I have toys to take care of my physical needs, and I have physical contact with my dance partners. That’s enough. Most of the time. Of course, there’s my fling with Trevor. A fling that has been annoyingly sparse.

Mallory gestures toward the ice with her cocoa cup. “Those two talking to Stone are my nephews,” she says, inclining her head to two dark-haired little boys near the entrance to the rink.

As the kids get ready to take the ice, a little girl with red braids turns and waves wildly. “Hi, Miss Morgan!”

Kendall waves back. “Hi, Rowena!”

Rowena buckles the chin strap on her helmet and skates across the ice to Bedard.

Daphne chuckles. “She has such a crush on him. It’s adorable.”

“It’s a mutual admiration society. He’s a fan of hers, too.” Kendall leans forward to speak to me. “I’m a first-grade teacher, and Rowena is one of my students. Burke volunteers at my school, so all the kids know him.”

“Trevor always has a crowd. He’s so good with kids,” Mallory says.

Miranda nods. “He’s going to have a whole pack.” She turns to Kendall and bounces in her seat with excitement. “I love that my kids will get to grow up with your kids and Trevor’s.”

Kendall huffs out a laugh. “Slow your roll, Randi. I’m not getting remarried anytime soon, and single motherhood is not in my game plan. And Trevor isn’t even dating anyone!”

Miranda turns a hopeful gaze my way.

I raise my hands like I’m going to ward off her questions, but no such luck.

“Don’t look at me! We’re dance partners, that’s it. I’m not having a pack. I’m not having kids at all.”

My eyes remained fixed on the kids skating. They’re doing a drill where they pass pucks back and forth and then shoot at the goal. I can feel the weight of everyone’s eyes on me. I’m a female wolf shifter. I’m supposed to want a big family. It’s how it’s done.

I’m unnatural.

No one is saying anything. Have I shocked them? Cautiously, I turn my head slightly to gauge Miranda’s reaction. She’s eating a chocolate chip cookie.

“What?” she mumbles while chewing.

I feel Mallory’s touch on my forearm and turn toward her. “It’s okay. I know the pressure female wolf shifters have to have big families, even now. I don’t shift, but I still hear it. My sister doesn’t want kids either. My mother only planned on having two—they were so exhausted with two kids they forgot they had sex after my sister was born, so Mom was shocked to discover she was four months pregnant five months after having my sister. Trevor was an oops. But Mom still thinks we should want five or six kids each. Liam and I only plan to have two. My older brother has two. Trevor will probably be the only one of us with a bunch of kids.”

Well, that keeps Trevor firmly in the only a fling category. No strings, no future, no kids. We’re having fun while we’re together, and then when the show ends, we move on. He may end up with a ton of kids, but he knows they aren’t coming from me.

We drink cocoa, chat about random things, and watch the practice for a while, but the exhaustion from the early morning trip to New York creeps up on me. Stifling a yawn, I snag a cookie to take with me and stand.

“It was lovely chatting with you all, but I need to get back to my room. I’m about to drop, and I need to pack for the two away games this week.”

Not counting the All-Star Game, this will be my first time traveling with the team and working around their game-day schedule. We’ll need to fit rehearsals wherever and whenever possible. We’re not going to have a studio or a theater space. It will be hallways in arenas and hotel rooms. Trevor seems to be the type to be okay with challenging circumstances—hopefully he can adapt.

After everyone says goodbye, I walk down the stands to ice level so I can leave. I’m at the last step when Trevor skates up to the glass and motions me over. We move along to the bench area so we can talk without the glass separating us.

“Thanks for staying,” Trevor says.

Shrugging, I gesture to Miranda with a jerk of my head. “There was spiked cocoa and cookies. Couldn’t miss that.”

If anyone ever asked, I’d insist it was the boozy cocoa making my stomach flutter and not Trevor’s lopsided grin. I’d be lying.

“Are you going back to your room?”

“Yeah, I’m exhausted and need to pack for the road trip.”

“What are you doing for dinner?” he asks.

“Ordering room service, probably. I need to catch up on sleep.”

“Yeah, me too,” he admits.

We stand there, looking at each other while kids zoom around laughing, the swoosh of their skate blades almost sounding like brushing a snare drum. The indistinct murmurs of their parents’ conversations create a base-level hum that’s punctuated by whistle blows starting and stopping drills. There’s a rhythm and cadence to it that would be cool to sample into a track for a dance. I’ll have to record it the next time I’m here and talk to the show’s band leader to see if it’s something we can use.

Slow grins spread across our faces as if we choreographed it. “See you in an hour?” I ask.

“Sooner if I can manage it,” Trevor says with a wink.

“Shall I order dinner?”

His chuckle is low, and it makes my belly do funny things that I can’t blame for the boozy cocoa.

“We can order…after,” he says.

Heat rushes to my cheeks and other parts. Nodding, I turn and sashay away, knowing his eyes are on me.

As I leave The Nest and brave the icy wind blowing off the Atlantic to cross the Boardwalk to Devil’s Den, I wonder if I should order sandwiches or something. With what I have in mind, there may not be an after. We may not end up getting any sleep at all once we’re in a bed together again. I don’t want to waste the night sleeping.

* * *

Jab. Jab. Jabbity jab jab. I keep pressing the button on the elevator like that will make it arrive faster. I'm eager to get to my hotel room so I can quickly pack and be free to enjoy the night with Trevor. When the door slides open, I step back quickly to allow the passengers off and then enter the car. Thankfully, I'm the only one on board, so I get to my floor quickly. Letting myself into the suite, I call down to order a selection of sandwiches along with a cheese plate and wine, so we can graze during the evening and not leave the room. Then, I hurriedly pack the essentials for our trip. If I forget anything, I'm sure I can either borrow it from Miranda or buy it at a local store.

I don't know whether to change into something sexier or stay as I am. Take a shower? I hate being uncertain. Before I can dither any further, there's a knock on my door. Rushing over, I open it to find Trevor standing there gorgeously rumpled, like he jumped off the ice and rushed over here. Which I guess he did. Because a quick glance shows I only left the rink thirty minutes ago.

“Hey,” he says. stepping toward me.

“Hey, yourself,” I respond, placing a hand on his jacket-covered chest and going on tiptoe to press a kiss on his jaw.

Dropping my heels to the floor, I undo his jacket. The man has way too many layers on. He helps by shrugging off his jacket and throwing it on the chair as he kicks the door closed. He wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me against him as he lowers his head to kiss me. His lips are firm but gentle. It's a sip of a kiss. His free hand comes up to rest against my cheek as his thumb gently caresses my face. This is new. This gentleness. I like it. But not right now. We can be gentle later. Right now, I want this man. Fiercely.

My hands skate up his chest and behind his neck to allow my fingers to burrow into his thick hair. As I increase the pressure of our lips, I nip at his bottom lip. He growls low in his throat. That growl ripples through me, igniting flames of desire. On impulse, I leap up and wrap my legs around his trim hips. Like a perfect dance partner, he reacts immediately and catches me, his large hands gripping my ass. I grind against him, feeling his desire for me. Yeah. It's about time this fling gets flung. A knock on the door breaks through the desire-laced fog our kisses enveloped us in. Reluctantly, I break away. Trevor groans in frustration.

“I think that's our food,” I say, unwrapping my legs so he can lower me back to the floor.

“You can leave it by the door,” Trevor calls out. “Thank you.”

His hands are still on my ass, and he squeezes as he lowers his head to resume our kiss.

There's knocking again. “Sophie?” a deep voice calls. It's my brother. Damn it.

“I think Trevor's in there with her.” That's Miranda. “We should go, Declan.”

Yes, you should both go. Now.

I look up at Trevor with wide eyes. In silence, we acknowledge they know we're in here. Before I can say anything. I hear Declan say, “Oh. Hello. Yes, we'll take the sandwiches. We're joining them for dinner. Thank you so much.”

Trevor sighs and his shoulders slump. There’s no getting rid of them now. My brother will just camp outside the door and make a picnic of our dinner.

“We know you're in there, and we have your food. Open the damn door,” Declan says in a sing-song voice at odds with his words.

With a sigh of my own, I step out of Trevor’s arms and stomp over to the door, throwing it open. My eldest brother is standing there with a room service cart next to him and a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Are you going to invite us in? This looks like it would be plenty for the four of us.”

Miranda mouths the word sorry as I step aside so Declan can wheel the cart in.

“Are we interrupting something?” Declan’s tone is innocent, but his smirk isn’t.

Trevor runs a hand through his hair, looking sheepish.

“Yes, you are,” I say.

Declan chuckles. “Good. That makes up for you bursting in on us New Year's morning.”

With a flourish, he removes the lid from the tray of sandwiches and grabs a ham and cheese, making himself at home on the sofa while reaching for the remote to turn on a hockey game.

I’m being cockblocked. By my brother. FML. Because nothing else is getting fucked tonight.