Revolve (Off the Ice #3)

by Bal Khabra

For anyone who’s had to put themselves back together, even when the pieces no longer fit.

Kian Ishida and I have been friends since second grade. Back when I still thought he was the quiet new kid, fresh off a move from Japan to Connecticut to live with his aunt. Since then, we’ve gotten detention more times than I can count, and barely made it into Dalton.

“I don’t bite, if that’s what you’re worried about.” His lips slant into a lazy smirk. “Promise.” He says it like he wants me to find out whether that’s true. The old Sierra would’ve had a snarky retort for the cocky hockey player, but I haven’t been her for a long time.

I’ll do it this time; I’ll finally be enough.

but the possibility of getting to that final and showing everyone I’m not a curse dangles in front of me like a carrot on a string.

“If you wanted to talk to me, you didn’t need to make up an excuse. You’re hot enough.”

Maybe it’s because I’ve never cared about what boys thought.

So I skipped the teenage sex phase. I had my first kiss at nineteen and lost my virginity at twenty. Neither were memorable.

“Why? Am I too much to handle? Never had a girl that could put a skate to your throat?” His dimple appears. A fucking dimple. “Never, but I think I’d enjoy anything you’d do to me.”

“Thought so.” I smirk. “Maybe if I toss a puck on the ice, you can chase after it like a good boy.” A glint returns to his eyes. “Is that what you want? For me to be a good boy?”

Summer Preston, Aiden’s girlfriend and my only friend who’s not an athlete or in a frat,

“Dylan, huh?” I didn’t expect to like the sound of my name on her lips this much.

“Yeah, I have the perfect one taped to a dartboard.” Is it bad that that turns me on? Ever since her skate blade comment, I think I’ve dreamed of it more times than I care to admit. But that might be because of my current dry spell.

“Don’t be,” she says. “I’ll bruise your fragile ego.” “You’d do a lot more damage than just a bruise, baby.” She raises a brow. “Are you flirting with me?” “Yes.” I grin. “Is it working?”

“Good. I don’t like someone else stealing your attention.”

“You’re the one showing up everywhere I am, Romanova. If you want me, just say the word. We can cut the whole cat-and-mouse thing.” “Am I supposed to be the mouse in that analogy?” “Definitely the cat. But that’s how I like it. Claws and all.” He winks. He actually fucking winks at me.

don’t know if I’m in the mood anymore. You were kind of mean.” “Shh!” I cover his mouth with my palm. “Can’t. I like it loud.”

“Think you can keep up with me, firefly?” I raise a brow at the nickname. “Are you trying to goad me into skating with you? I’m not that easy.” “Oh, I know, but I’ve always had a thing for a challenge.” “I’m not giving in to whatever kink you’re trying to satisfy.” He smirks, leaning in slightly. “You in those tights is doing a lot for me already.”

But she looks at me like she wants me dead. It’s kind of fucked up how much that turns me on.

“You’d do that for me?” “No,” says Aiden. “I’ll do it for the other version of you. Because he’s my best friend.”

“Breathe. Talk to me, Sierra,” he says. So gently, so carefully, like he thinks I’ll shatter.

No one wants to be stuck mending something they didn’t break. Especially not some hotshot hockey player. Dylan’s not here to spend the day tangled with my anxiety. I can barely do that.

“Sierra, I’m proud of you for getting on this ice today, and even on late nights when you shouldn’t be. And I’m proud of you for accepting my help.”

“Are you serious? You looked like you were in pain.” I still am. “I’m not your responsibility, Dylan.” “I never said you were.”

but I let her drag me wherever she wants. It’s a thrill I haven’t felt since she yelled at me at that party.

“Is claustrophobia your kink? It’s the second time you’ve dragged me into a tight space.”

“There’s nothing tiny about me. This’ll be a big stain on your conscience—some may say huge. You won’t be able to sleep without seeing this innocent face.” I pout.

“A kiss.”

“There is no way I’m going anywhere near your face.” “Why not? I’ve been told it’s very nice.” “So this is how you get all those girls. By talking about how pretty your face is?” I grin. “I never said pretty. That was all you.”

“Don’t say sorry to me, Sierra. I don’t need it.” “What was that kiss for, then?” I shrug. “I just like seeing you squirm.” “Asshole,” she mutters, slipping out of the cramped space. “Brat,” I shoot back.

chair, Kian is beside them with his laptop facing me, Eli and Sage are wearing those under-eye patches looking as serious as ever on a video call,

That’s why alcohol has helped me piece things back together, so I could always be the Dylan they wanted—the one who never adds to the weight they’re already carrying. I was trying to be a friend, an escape for everyone, even if it meant I could never escape myself. I’d be that for them forever because that’s what people need. Not another reason to be depressed. Not another burden.

“You know what I mean. You could never keep up with me.” “Oh yeah? You want to test out my stamina, princess?”

“My friends back at Waterfell weren’t too happy after that last game against you guys,”

Their massive defenseman, eyes glinting like melted gold, came at me just as hard as I came at him. Helmets flew off, noses and lips were bloodied, and I even managed to tear his jersey, revealing a tattoo that resembled one of those swirly Van Gogh paintings.

“Is that like your bat signal or something? Are your pants going to fly off?” “I just said hi. You’re the one who wants my pants to come off.”

She lowers her head, her nose grazing mine. “Swallow.” I do. She’s smooth as silk and pretty as sin. It’s hard for me to ignore that fact while I think about how I’d let her drown me in whatever else she lets me taste from her lips.

“Should’ve known you don’t do what you’re told.” “What can I say? I like to be punished.” “How submissive of you,” I say dryly. “Yeah? Are you into that? Because I could be, depending on the reward.”

“Son. Best skater she’s ever seen. Ridiculously handsome. I couldn’t really keep track.”

Worst of all, he’s wearing glasses. Black brow line framed and devastating. What kind of sick optometrist would approve of this?

“If you’re fishing for more compliments, you won’t get them from me. But me standing here, asking you to be my partner, should be enough.”

“I’m allergic to your cocky attitude.” “Trust me, you haven’t seen cocky yet.”

“Sounds like a prison sentence,” Dylan mutters. “I’m sure you’ve been handcuffed before.” He lets out a low chuckle. “Only to my bed.”

“You seriously think that I’d drop you? After all you’ve been through, you think there’d be a second that I’d ever let you touch the ground before I could catch you?”

“I’ll be in control.” “Just how I like it,” Dylan says.

“The only sweet thing about you is the alcohol I tasted from your lips, Sierra,” he says, his tone too casual. “Everything else is hot and scorching.” “Like the sun?” “Like hell.”

“Having an attitude versus an opinion about something you do professionally are two different things. I think you’ve been around weak people who can’t listen to a smart woman without making it a dick-measuring contest.”

“When you’re with me, Sierra, I don’t want you to be who everyone thinks you are. I want you to be the girl who calls me out on my shit and speaks her mind. Can you do that?”

“Tell me what you need, and I’ll be that for you,” I whisper.

“I don’t think bonding means you can’t leave my side.” “What if I don’t want to?” I shoot him a bored look. “So we’re back to this? Flirting with me?” “That wasn’t flirting,” he says, leaning in close. “If I were flirting, your ass would be in my lap instead of on this cheap leather.” I bristle. “Good thing you’re not flirting, then.” “Do you want me to?” he whispers, our noses inches apart. “We can order drinks. I know you like sharing those.”