Page 10 of Fresh Ice
He didn’t protest when Levy dragged him to a racing game, each of them sitting down on a makeshift car seat.
Levy glanced at him. “You ready?”
“You are so smug,” Alonso complained, pushing Levy’s face without thinking deeply about it.
Levy didn’t react negatively though, sticking his tongue out and starting the game.
It wasn’t that Alonso cared that much about winning a silly race…but he might have shouted like a crazy person when his car zoomed across the finish line first.
Levy doubled over where he sat, laughing as Alonso apologised to the people now staring at them.
The both of them argued playfully throughout the rest of the evening. Alonso got the hang of some of the games, but Levy still beat him soundly at most. Levy didn’t gloat or rub it in his face, though, and by the time they got home, Alonso’s cheeks hurt from grinning, his head feeling quieter than it had in a long while.
“So,” Levy said, “not bad to have some fun, eh?”
Alonso blinked up at him. He’d had a friend in Juniors, but they had never done anything like that for him. Alonso knew he was difficult to like simply because he didn’t fit in with hockey culture.
Sure, there were quiet guys on the team, but everybody was willing, on some level, to bond with their teammates. Alonso, however, had his father’s voice in his head, warning him about what would happen if someone found out he was an Omega.
How he’d lose everything.
Alonso knew he should be trying to keep Levy away too, but…it washard.
“Yeah,” Alonso said quietly. “Thanks. Itwasfun.”
Levy fist-bumped exaggeratedly, drawing another laugh from Alonso.
“We haven’t eaten in a while,” Alonso pointed out.
Despite living together for weeks, they’d never shared a meal in the apartment. The thought made Alonso’s stomach lurch with conflicted guilt.
Levy collapsed onto the couch. They’d gotten some furniture separately, although they’d had to agree on the flat-screen TV now dominating one of the living room walls. “Takeout?” Levy suggested.
Alonso nodded. It was late, but there was always something open in Queens.
Alonso stared at his phone for a while without taking much in. “Hey,” Alonso called out softly from where he was sitting beside Levy.
Levy raised his head, making a questioning sound.
Alonso bit his lip, putting aside his natural proclivity to go at the world alone. “Thanks. For all this. I know I haven’t been that nice to you. You didn’t have to do all this.”
Levy shrugged. “It’s nothing, man. We’re teammates, yeah? We gotta look out for each other.”
It was the second time Levy had shared that sentiment, and Alonso couldn’t help the tinge of resentment that bubbled up in him. Levy was an Alpha in a world of Alphas. He could be loyal to teammates, secure in the knowledge that he was being accepted for who he actually was. Alonso was the one who had to carry the weight of wondering how the people who claimed to ‘have his back’ would react if they found out he was an Omega.
Levy had probably never had to clench his teeth and listen to teammates say the most vulgar shit in the world about Omegas.
But Alonso wouldn’t wish that on anybody, especially not Levy. Alonso had no idea if Levy would be so kind if he were to find out Alonso was a liar and an infiltrator, but it was so tiring to think that way.
Without his dad constantly reinforcing the idea of keeping his distance from those around him, it was easier to try and take Levy at face value until he proved otherwise.
Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to let this one person in.
**********
Of course, because the universe was full of jokes, Alonso scored the very next game.
It took him a moment to process the puck hitting the back of the net—he was so accustomed to it bouncing off a stretched-out goalie pad or a perfectly placed glove. The roar of the crowd filtered in first, followed by Levy’s scream as they crashed together.
