Page 90 of On the Edge

Chuckling softly, I tuck a hand under my cheek to raise my face off the pillow.

“Laying it on a little thick,” I tease, even though he’s right. Everything—including sleep—is somehow better with him around.

“I have class this morning.” He sighs, rolling over to grab his phone from the pocket of Nate’s sweats, which were tossed to the floor last night.

“German class?” This earns me a sharp nudge with his toe. I toss my leg over his hip to spare my calf, still idlythreading my fingers through his hair. “I have class, too. Not until nine, though, so I think we’ve got a little time. You’ll probably want to go home and change, though?”

I’ve never seen Henri go to lecture in anything other than his polo shirts and khaki pants. If he wears Nate’s borrowed clothes, everyone in his classes would probably die from shock.

“Yes, I suppose I should. I texted my friend Zeke that I was not going to be home last night, but he is probably waiting for me this morning. He is likely wanting to hear what happened. We are very similar, him and I. He understands when I tell him that you are the only one for me.”

“I have no idea what to do when you say things like that,” I admit, shifting in discomfort. It’s not even the words that bother me, it’s the way he says them with utter conviction.

“I will tell you. Here is what you do: you put your hand like this”—he demonstrates by placing his palm against my cheek, fingers curled gently around my ear—“and you kiss me, obviously.”

“Obviously,” I repeat softly, as he leans forward to do just that.

“And then you say: Henri.” He stops, and it takes me a long moment before I realize he’s waiting for me to repeat his words.

“Oh, right. Henri?—"

“You are the most handsome of men. The smartest. The most skilled at hockey.” Another pause.

“You are the most handsome, smart, and skilled at hockey,” I repeat obediently.

“And then you kiss me again! Simple,” he exclaims, before muffling my laughter with his lips.

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time.” Sitting up, I stretchand bend over him, reaching for my shirt. Something bangs against the wall I share with Nate, followed by a muffled curse. Henri laughs.

“Nate is fun. I am not sure I could be living with him, though. You are a brave soul.”

I walk Henri down to the door in my shirt and boxers, resting a shoulder against the wall to watch him slip his shoes back on. Rising back to standing, he steps close enough for me to put a hand on his hip and squeeze.

“Together?” I ask.

“Together,” he repeats. “Always.”

EPILOGUE

5 Years Later

Henri

Running a hand down my chest,I smooth my tie. In front of me, Bryan is fiddling with his camera gear and muttering under his breath. Behind me, Detroit’s NHL team is in the locker room after a very hard-fought-for win against Toronto. The door opens, and a still-dressed Max Kuemper steps out with a smile already on his face. I return it, but refrain from giving him the hug I’d like to bestow. I can hardly play favorites in front of a live audience.

The post-game interview is, as always, quick and remarkably unimaginative no matter how hard I try to make it interesting. Max provides well-spoken and thoughtfully quiet answers for the camera. It’s not until we cut the live feed that his smile meets his eyes and he steps forward to engulf me in a very sweaty, very welcome hug.

“Hello, my friend,” I greet him, tightening my arms asbest I can around his chest guard. We so rarely see each other in person these days, and the pain of missing him has yet to get any easier.

“God, I fucking love it when we play Toronto,” he says, letting me go and beaming happily. “How are you?”

“Well, I can’t say I care for the outcome of that game, but I can’t complain otherwise. And you?”

Max laughs. “I’m great. Really great. Hey, did you see?—"

“That Coach Mackenzie and Anthony Lawson were married?” I fill in, still unable to use Coach’s first name no matter how many years it’s been since I’ve played for him. Old habits, I suppose. “I am, in fact, astounded that it has taken so long.”

“Right?” He snorts, shaking his head. “I’m so happy for them, though. I wish we didn’t have to fly back tonight. I would have liked to catch up with you.”

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