Page 60 of Price of Victory
“I love you, too,” I replied, my voice breaking with the force of the emotion coursing through me. “Always. Forever.”
Time became elastic, measured only by the rhythm of our breathing and the soft sounds we made as we loved each other with a tenderness that made my chest ache. I could feel every beat of his heart where our chests pressed together, could taste the salt of tears and joy when he kissed me with desperate sweetness.
When he said my name again, it sounded like something sacred and precious that he was offering up to the universe. And when I whispered his name back, it felt like a vow, a promise that this time would be different, that this time we’d hold on to what we had.
The tension built slowly between us, a gradual crescendo that felt less like climbing toward a peak and more like sinking deeper into something warm and infinite. Every movement sent waves of sensation through my entire body, and I could see in his eyes that he was feeling the same overwhelming combination of physical pleasure and emotional connection.
“Don’t let go,” he whispered, his voice tight with approaching climax. “Promise me you won’t let go.”
“Never,” I promised and meant it with every fiber of my being. “I’ll never let go again.”
When release finally claimed us both, it was with a gentleness that left us both shaking, clinging to each other like we were the only solid things in a world gone liquid. I buried my face in his neck, breathing in the scent of his skin while aftershocks of pleasure rippled through both our bodies.
The silence that followed was peaceful rather than awkward, filled with the sound of our gradually slowing heartbeats and the soft whisper of skin against skin as we adjusted our positions. He traced lazy patterns on my back while I pressed soft kisses to his shoulder, both of us reluctant to break the spell that had settled over us.
“That was…” he started, then trailed off, apparently unable to find words.
“Perfect,” I finished for him. “That was perfect.”
“I was going to say life-changing, but perfect works, too.” He tilted his head to look at me, and I was struck by how young he looked in the aftermath of love, how unguarded and genuinely happy.
We lay there afterward, wrapped around each other in my too-small bed, our bodies still humming with the echo of what we’d shared. His head was pillowed on my chest, and I could feel his breath evening out as exhaustion finally caught up with him. The weight of him against me felt like the most natural thing in the world, like this was exactly where he belonged.
“What happens now?” I asked quietly, running my fingers through his hair and marveling at how soft it was, how it caught the dim light filtering through my window.
“Now we figure it out together,” he said without lifting his head, his voice muffled against my chest. “No more secrets, no more walls. Just us.”
“Just us,” I agreed and felt something settle into place in my chest, like a puzzle piece finally finding its proper spot. “Are you scared?”
“Terrified,” he admitted with a soft laugh. “But the good kind of scared. The kind that means something important is happening.”
“I’m scared, too,” I confessed. “But I’m more scared of losing you again than I am of anything else.”
“You won’t lose me,” he said, lifting his head to look at me with eyes that were serious and bright with unshed emotion. “I’m done running, Rhett. I’m done letting fear make my decisions for me.”
“Good,” I said, leaning down to kiss him softly. “Because I’m done letting pride make mine.”
Outside, snow was beginning to fall, dusting the campus in white that would transform everything by morning. I could see the flakes dancing past my window, catching the light from the streetlamps below. But inside my small dorm room, wrapped in Aiden’s arms with his heartbeat steady beneath my cheek, I felt like I had everything I needed.
We’d found our way back to each other despite the obstacles and complications and family histories that had tried to tear us apart. And lying there in the peaceful aftermath of reconciliation, feeling the solid warmth of his body against mine and listening to the soft sound of his breathing, I knew with absolute certainty that this was where I belonged.
“I love you,” I whispered into the darkness, not because I needed to say it but because I wanted to, because the words felt like a gift I could give him.
“I love you, too,” he murmured back, his arms tightening around me like he was afraid I might disappear if he didn’t hold on tight enough.
In his arms, in this moment, in this love that had proven stronger than everything that had tried to destroy it, I felt complete in a way I’d never experienced before. This wasn’t just about desire or attraction or even the deep affection that had been building between us for months.
This was home. This was forever. This was the beginning of something that would last long after we graduated, long after the hockey season ended, long after all the external pressures and expectations faded away.
This was love in its truest form, and we had chosen it over everything else.
And that made all the difference.
EPILOGUE
The apartment was smallerthan anywhere I’d ever lived before, but it was perfect in ways that had nothing to do with square footage or expensive finishes. The living room doubled as my home office, where I spent most days building my hockey consulting business from a secondhand desk we’d found at a thrift store. The kitchen was barely large enough for two people, but somehow, we’d managed to create some of our best memories there, cooking terrible pasta and burning toast while we figured out how to live together.
Tonight, the bedroom was scattered with discarded ties and cufflinks as we prepared for an evening I’d been dreading for weeks. The Morrison-Whitmore Peace Summit, as Rhett had started calling it, though neither of us was particularly optimistic about how peaceful it would actually be.
