Page 137 of Your Sharpest Edge
“You’re mine,” he mumbled as hot ropes of cum spurted inside me, my orgasm following his.
I almost fell onto the ice, but Alex lifted me and held onto me bridal style as he hobbled into the locker room.
“I can’t have anyone see you naked, malyshka.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “You let your teammate see me naked,” I laughed.
He chuckled. “Different circumstances.”
The locker room was a modest space with rows of wooden benches and metal lockers lining the walls. The air smelled faintly of disinfectant. The rubber floor was worn, but it reminded me so much of all the times I’d gotten ready before a competition.
He set me down on the bench, and I undid my skates. I pulled up my underwear first, then my leggings, which now had a small hole from the blade. I threw my sweater on over my bra and looked up to find him already dressed.
“Alex,” I mumbled. “Thank you for telling me about your mom and your fears. Thank you for sharing that piece of yourself with me.” Tears streamed down my cheeks once again. “Thank you,” I said, wiping my wet lashes. “Thank you for showing methat the ice wasn’t so scary. I was able to conquer my fears because of you.”
Alex dropped to his knees in front of me and grabbed my thighs. “No,” he whispered. “You were able to do all that because of you.”
“You were right there, right by my side like you’ve always been.” My voice dropped an octave. “Like you’ll always be.”
“Forever. You and Damien are mine, forever.”
“Thank you for replacing the pain and fear I once associated with this place, which had been home for so long, with love.” I hiccuped as the words I’d been holding in slipped off my tongue. It happened so naturally. “I love you,” I murmured.
His smile widened as he pulled me into him, and I fell against his chest. He held me tightly in an embrace.
“I love you so much, malyshka. I love you and Damien. You’re my family.”
I gave him a soft smile and let him hold me, inhaling deeply against his shoulder. Everything had changed. Everything was both the same and different. But this felt right.
We changed quickly and then held hands, my skating bag slung over my shoulder as we walked out the door.
“I’d like to come to your home game,” I said hesitantly, unsure of how he’d feel.
“Oh yeah?” He paused, looking down at me. “I’d love that.”
“I could make a jersey for Damien and me with your number on our backs. Number fifty-eight.”
“Oh yeah?” he asked. “You memorized my number? I thought you didn’t look me up.”
“I may have googled you after our first dinner... maybe.”
He chuckled at my confession. “To your studio?” he asked.
“You’ll come with me?” I asked, surprised.
“Of course.” He gave my hand a squeeze, and I looked out at the city.
Everything felt so different.
We stepped outside, the city still awakening around us. The weight I normally carried, the burden of always being strong, felt lighter. The familiar ache in my legs had dulled, replaced by a sense of liberation. I had fought tirelessly to curate this life for Damien and me, but today was different because I didn’t have to do it alone.
As we walked hand in hand, I marveled at the journey that had brought us here. Sometimes, relinquishing a bit of independence didn’t mean losing control of my life’s narrative; it meant sharing it with someone who truly cared. Alex had always been the person who was helping me carry the load.
Alex glanced at me, his eyes brimming with warmth and understanding. “You okay?” he asked, giving my hand a gentle squeeze.
I nodded, feeling a swell of gratitude. “Yeah, I’m more than okay. I’m really good.”
Love could take form in the most unlikely places, like my friendship with Alex. I learned that love could indeed spring from the weeds, emerging even in the most toxic situations. It flourished in quiet moments of support, shared laughter, and an unwavering belief in each other.
