Page 114 of Revolve
I find what I expect. A smiley face on my palm. It causes somethingto thaw in my chest. With the same hand on the back of her head, I pull her down to my lips. “I love it, baby.”
Her laugh is light, and prettier than anything else I’ll ever hear.
Sierra trails a finger over my jaw. “What’s this from?” she asks, touching the faded scar.
“Junior year. Qualifiers against Boston College. I got a major.”
She trails lower until she’s touching my navel, looking at me like I’m something new and not used. “I’m patient, but not that patient, Sierra.”
“What? I just wanted to know about your scars.”
I flip her under me, and she gasps. “I’m sure. That’s why I could feel how wet you are right on my stomach.”
Her cheeks pinken, but I don’t let her get shy on me. I slide down her stomach and press featherlight kisses on her core. But just as she starts moaning my name, her phone rings.
“Don’t answer,” I rasp. And when I push her thighs apart and press my face there, she doesn’t protest. “Give me another one.”
She shakes uncontrollably. “I can’t—”
My phone dings with a text, but I squeeze Sierra’s thighs to keep her attention on me. “Dylan,” she says, but I barely hear it over the taste of her. “Your phone.”
“Ignore it.”
She sinks her fingers into my hair, yanks my head up. She drags my name across her tongue in a stern voice.
I sigh, reaching for my phone. “It’s Lidia.”
We’ve been expecting word on if we got the Grand Prix host pick. With our scores and media attention, we have a shot. Sierra springs up out of bed and grabs her phone. She takes the crewneck I left discarded on my bed frame and tugs it on.
She calls Lidia back, and each ring that punctures the air feels like we’re closer to the edge of a cliff.
“Devushka.” Lidia’s voice filters through the speaker. Sierra deflates and falls into me, like she can tell just from the sound of hercoach’s voice. “You two were amazing. Everything was near perfection, and you should be so proud of that.
“You didn’t make it this time, but we still have the whole year. You’ve got a long career ahead of you, Sierra.”
Sierra just sits there, speechless. I take her phone.
“Thanks for letting us know, Lidia,” I say, my voice calm, even though my chest feels like it’s being stung.
“Who got it?” Sierra asks with a shaky voice.
The line is silent for so long, we already know the answer before Lidia says, “Justin and Julia.”
A choked sound escapes Sierra.
When I assure Lidia we’ll be fine and hang up, I turn to my partner. Gently, I pull her down to lie with me. My fingers trace the tiny bump on her skull.
“I thought it would hurt more. I mean, it does, it burns, but nothing like it used to,” she whispers, her voice barely above a murmur. “I think it’s because you’re here.”
I slide my hand down her back. “I’ll always be here, baby.”
Her laugh is soft, barely a sound, but it melts right into me. “At least now you can finally focus on hockey and the draft. You deserve every single string Kilner pulled for you, Dylan.”
“I’m not thinking about that right now,” I say.
“But I want you to. Because for the first time in years, I fell in love with skating again. It feels like it used to, like home. You helped me get there. I used to feel so guilty about not being good enough for my partner to stay, but you never make me feel like a burden. For the first time I haven’t tied my worth to my scores. So, I mean it when I say you should do what you poured your entire life into. If anyone gets it, it’s me.”
When I glance down, she’s already looking at me, her face painted with something raw and unspoken.
