Page 57 of Across the Boards

“I’ll take it!”

We make our escape before Sarah can negotiate further terms, stepping out into the cool night air. Elliot sighs with relief as we walk toward the valet stand.

“That wasn’t nearly as terrible as I expected,” she admits.

“High praise indeed,” I laugh. “Though ‘not terrible’ seems to be your standard compliment.”

“I’m working on expanding my positive vocabulary,” she says primly. “Maybe someday I’ll upgrade you to ‘moderately enjoyable.’”

“Be still my heart.”

The valet brings my car around, and I open the passenger door for Elliot, who sinks into the seat with a grateful sigh. As I slide behind the wheel, I glance over at her—slightly disheveled after the long evening, a few strands of hair escaping her careful styling, cheeks flushed from champagne and conversation.

She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

“You’re staring again,” she notes without opening her eyes.

“Just admiring the view,” I say honestly.

She turns to look at me, her expression soft in the dim light. “Thank you for tonight. For being my backup with Wilson and the hockey wives. For not running when things got awkward.”

“I wouldn’t dream of running,” I tell her. “Not when I’m finally getting to spend time with you outside of taco trucks and coffee shops.”

She smiles, something shy in her expression that I haven’t seen before. “It was... nice. Having you there.”

“Just nice?” I tease gently.

“Better than nice,” she amends. “Though don’t let it go to your head.”

“Too late.”

The drive back to our townhomes is companionable, Elliot occasionally pointing out particularly terrible drivers. When we arrive, I walk her to her door, hyperaware that we’ve reached the classic end-of-date moment.

“So,” she says, turning to face me on her doorstep. “That happened.”

“It did indeed.” I step closer, relieved when she doesn’t back away. “Any regrets?”

“About the gala? Or showing up with you and scandalizing half the hockey wives?”

“Any of the above. All of the above.”

She considers for a moment. “No regrets,” she says finally. “Though I might regret these shoes tomorrow when my feet are screaming.”

“Worth it, though,” I suggest. “You looked amazing.”

“I did, didn’t I?” She grins, confident in a way I haven’t seen before. “And you clean up pretty well yourself, Carter. The bow tie was a nice touch.”

“You tied it perfectly,” I remind her. “I take no credit.”

“True. I am exceptionally talented.”

“Modest, too.”

We’re standing close now, the air between us charged with possibility. I want to kiss her—desperately—but I also want to let her set the pace. After tonight, after facing down her past through its proxies, she deserves to control what happens next.

As if reading my thoughts, she reaches up and adjusts my bow tie, her fingers lingering. “I had fun tonight,” she says quietly. “Despite everything. Because of you.”

“I had fun too,” I reply, voice rough. “Also because of you.”

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