Page 94 of Back Outside Edge

"Only for like ten minutes." He begins to move faster, harder. "Maybe an hour, tops. Then I was just confused why I wanted this." He punctuates the word with another hard stroke, pounding into me.

I don't bother to answer. Not when the pounding is killing me as surely as his mouth was.

Later, when he's pushed me past the point of oblivion and collapsed next to me, I manage, with great effort, to reach up and twine our fingers together. He grunts, taking a moment to pull me all the way onto the mattress, since apparently I was only half on it, and wraps around me.

I wake with his head on my chest, his arm and leg flung over me. The way I've woken up so many mornings in the past year. Except this time, I'm still wearing a shirt, and Stefan is almost fully clothed. He never bothered to pull his pants down. It makes me grin.

As does the dull pain of sore muscles when I extricate myself from him, careful to keep from waking him.

I'm finishing with the bathroom when he pads in, yawning. "I'm starving."

"I bet," I answer, hanging my towel on the rack. "What time is it?"

He shrugs, stepping into the shower. "Can you order something?"

"This place has room service?"

"Yeah."

I pause on my way out of the room, turning back to the shower and its transparent curtain. "Stefan."

"Yeah?" He's washing his hair, suds running down his body delightfully.

"If the hotel has room service, why did you come to the breakfast room after the photo thing? You had to know it would all be a mess."

Stefan freezes, then his hands fall to his sides. He turns to face me, then bursts out laughing. Which is... not the response I'd have expected. The man can still surprise me. "I have no fucking clue," he admits, practically wheezing. "But I'm glad I did."

"You are?" Since this has turned into a full conversation, I pull myself up onto the counter next to the sink, watching as he goes back to his hair. "Even with everything that happened? The suspension and all that?"

"Yeah. It all worked out in the end." A pause. "Well, for me anyway. I guess not so much for you, sorry."

I'm smiling at him, beaming, though he's not looking in my direction. "No, I think it all worked out for me too. I love my job, I love you. I love our insane cats, even if they keep trying to kill me. The physical therapist cleared me to start jumping again at our last appointment."

"Wait!" He turns again, ripping the curtain open, headless to the water now pouring onto the bathroom floor. "She did? Holy shit, Evan, that's amazing."

"Yep." I've been waiting to tell him, wanting to see exactly this reaction. He's out of the shower in a moment, then I'm covered in water and soap suds when he lifts me off the counter and hugs me tightly.

His mouth finds mine, and I kiss him back, not bothering to protest that I've just dried off. I don't know how well jumping will go, if I'll ever reclaim the level and skill I used to have. What I'll end up doing with the ability, if I can. I don't think competitive skating is in my future, despite Stefan continuing to blow minds at every competition, but I'm not ruling it out. Not yet.

When we come up for air, I wince at the still growing puddle in front of the shower. Stefan follows my gaze, then pulls me back to the shower with him, closing us in the small space together, water still streaming down.

An hour later, we clean up the puddle and order breakfast. When Stefan begins to unpack, I manage to take a peek at what he has smuggled into the country. Our skates. Heavy jackets. Gloves and hats. What? Why? We agreed we were taking a vacation. It's summer.

Stefan catches me looking, scowls at me, and shuts the suitcase. "It's a surprise. So don't start."

I raise my eyebrows at him, and he sighs. The most put-upon of all possible sighs.

"Fine. There's this lake, up in the Alps or something. I don't even remember. But we have tickets to go skate at it. It's supposed to be all romantic and shit. I thought you'd like it, with the whole pond thing and everything."

"Stefan Petryk." I advance on him, and he backs up a step, not quite sure whether I'm angry at him, I think. "You are the best boyfriend in the world."

We're a few hours later than planned leaving the hotel room to explore.

Outside the hotel, I pause to look at it, the Tudor style exterior in clean white and black, the well-trimmed shrubs surrounding it. Just another hotel. Nothing to indicate that inside, two years ago, a series of mistakes changed everything.

Stefan looks back at me, smiles, and stops, waiting patiently. "Going to write a poem of thanks?"

With a laugh, I move to him, catching his hand in mine as we continue down the sidewalk. "Nope. Maybe I'll make you skate one, though."

The End