Page 64 of Hot Mic, Cold Ice

Elliot continues playing with my clit, his breath hot against my skin. “I’m going to lick you, touch you, and fuck you until you never forget the feeling of me between your legs.”

His mouth is relentless, driving me to the brink over and over until I am quaking with the aftershocks of another climax. His tongue moves expertly, coaxing every last tremor from my body. Just when I think I can’t take anymore, his body shifts to rest above me, his eyes locking with mine as he slowly sinks into me, bare, giving me every inch of him. The sensation is overwhelming, a perfect blend of pleasure and connection that leaves me breathless.

Each thrust deeper, he chases his own release. Elliot rolls over, pulling me with him, keeping himself buried deep inside me, his eyes blazing with intensity.

“Ride me, Anatife,” he commands, his voice low and urgent.

The heat between us is electric, his need matching my own. I shift, straddle him, and begin to move, our bodies perfectly in sync, a desperate attempt to capture every last bit of our time together. I can feel Elliot in every inch of my body. The feeling is overwhelming. So, I give myself over to the moment completely.

Our movements are fierce, almost frantic, both of us trying to etch the memory of this night into our souls. I feel like I am falling apart and coming together all at once, every nerve ending alive with the sensation of working him over until hot ropes of his cum fill me up. Elliot pushes me to the edge again and againthroughout the night, into the early morning, his words and actions a mix of passion and anger, love and frustration. It is a goodbye that neither of us want, but both of us have to have.

The early morning light filters through the curtains as I quietly pack my things, trying not to disturb Elliot. Our connection from the night before still lingers in the air, the traces of passion, unrestrained and all-consuming still evident on my body. We let our actions do the talking, pouring everything into this final encounter. It was intense, unforgettable, and etched a mark on my soul, even as we kept our hearts guarded. I walk over to him, gently shaking his shoulder to wake him. As his eyes flutter open, I lean in and whisper.

“I have to go. My flight’s soon.” The authority of our goodbye hangs heavily between us.

“I know this is what we agreed to but this shit fucking sucks,” he murmurs, echoing the raw vulnerability that will remain after we part ways.

His words crack a piece of my heart off. I give him a sad smile, kiss him one last time, and slip out the door. That broken piece of my heart stays on that hotel bed, the leftover pieces of my heart aching with every step toward the airport.

Back in Atlanta, the city seems different, almost foreign, as I go through the motions of getting back to my day to day life. The once bustling city now feels strangely quiet, devoid of the usual excitement. Skyscrapers stand tall, but the absence of cheering fans echoes in the air. The scent of hot dogsand popcorn, once so familiar, is replaced by a stale, stagnant smell. Nothing feels right without the constant whirlwind of the playoffs and Elliot’s presence. Each step I take seems to amplify the silence, making the ache in my chest even more pronounced.

As I walk through the rooms of my apartment, the remnants of our time together flood my mind. The laughter we shared in the living room, the conversations in the kitchen, and the warmth of his touch are felt everywhere. Each space is a reminder of his absence, amplifying the void that now consumes me. The silence seems to reverberate off the walls, echoing the emptiness that now lives within me. I yearn for his presence, for the sound of his voice to fill the air once more, even to see that mustache as he laughs at me from the other side of the couch. But all I am left with are the memories haunting me at every turn.

Unpacking my bags only seems to spread the sense of loneliness into every corner of my apartment. I try to shake off the ache, to look at the solitude as a gift. But no matter how hard I try to rewire my brain, the memories persist, refusing to let go. They wrap around me like a bittersweet embrace, simultaneously comforting and torturous.

Time heals all wounds, or so they say. But at the moment, it feels like time stands still, prolonging the sadness. I long for the day when the memories bring a smile instead of tears. When the silence is no longer deafening but instead a peaceful respite from life. Until then, I push the sadness aside and put on my brave face. ‘Fake it til you make it’ like the best of them. No one, not even myself, will keep me from accomplishing my next goal.

I walk into my boss’s office at ACN, a sense of unknown giving way to excitement. He looks up from his desk, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “Ziggy, come in. Have a seat,” he says,gesturing to the chair opposite him. I sit down, trying to steady my nerves.

“We need to talk about your future here,” he begins, leaning back in his chair. “You’ve done incredible work covering the Red Wolves. Your dedication and talent haven’t gone unnoticed.”

“Thank you,” I reply, my heart racing.

“I know you want to make a change and I have two options for you,” he continues. “First, you can transfer back to New York. It would still be in sports, at least until something else opens up.”

I nod, trying to process the offer. “And the second option?”

His smile widens. “Stay in Atlanta permanently and take a job at ANN as an on-air news anchor. It’s a big step up and exactly what you’ve always wanted.”

My breath catches in my throat. This is my dream position, a chance to move beyond sports and into a broader, more impactful role. But the decision isn’t easy. New York used to be my home; it’s familiar, comfortable even. Atlanta, on the other hand, holds new challenges and opportunities.

“I know it’s a big decision,” he says, sensing my hesitation. “Take some time to think about it. But I need your answer by the end of the week.”

I nod, standing up. “Thank you for the opportunities. I’ll let you know soon.”

As I walk out of his office, my mind spins with possibilities. This is a crossroads in my career and my life. The path I choose will shape my future in ways I can only begin to imagine. Being faced with a career-defining choice is not where I expectedtoday to go. In times of need, a pro versus con list between staying in sports and moving to New York or staying in Atlanta permanently and working on air in national news is required. The decision should be easy, but it isn’t. Once I get back to my apartment, I sit down with a notebook, dividing the page into two columns. New York offers familiarity, old friends and family, a bustling city I know well, and the comfort of staying in the sports world I’ve grown accustomed to.

But Atlanta offers a fresh start, new friends, a dream role, a chance to break into national news and expand my horizons. I surprise myself with how much I hesitate, the memories of Elliot and the Red Wolves influencing my every thought. Every game, every interview, and every moment with Elliot plays back in my mind, making the choice feel infinitely more complicated. Elliot St. Germain ends up being on both sides of my pro-con list. A major con to New York is still being surrounded by Elliot at work. Moving on from him is hard enough without a constant reminder. Atlanta gives me the space I need to have any chance of moving on.

In the end, the decision comes with clarity. Atlanta is now my new home as I make the transition to national news. It feels right, like the natural next step in my journey. As I make the call to accept the position, a sense of peace washes over me. Maybe I'm leaving behind one chapter to be able to start a new one, and for the first time in a long while, the future doesn't seem so daunting.

Chapter 46

The studio is buzzing with excitement as we settle into our seats, the setup of microphones and soundboards making me feel welcomed. During the season, all of my podcast recordings were virtual. This is the first time that we are all coming together. I doubt every episode will be in person, all together like this, but it will be a nice experience when it does happen.

The other hosts, Gordie Whitfield and Bryce Cole, all wear expressions of eager anticipation. Today's episode is special—we have a special guest, Oren Samuels, with us to talk about our recent Stanley Cup victory, and I know they won’t go easy on either of us.

The Stanley Cup. My lifelong dream is finally in my hands. The weight of this goal, both literally and metaphorically, pressed down on me for my entire life, and I never even realized how draining it was. Day in and day out. Always lurking under the surface. The victory feels surreal, a culmination of years ofeffort. The team did it. We are the champions. The satisfaction of our achievement is undeniable, but beneath the surface, a sense of emptiness gnaws at me, growing stronger every day. This is everything I have ever wanted, and yet it feels like something is missing.

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