Page 24

KATERINA

Pain is the first thing I register when I wake up. A deep, pulsing ache radiates from my shoulder, the kind that even the heavy doses of painkillers can’t

completely erase. My body feels sluggish, my mind foggy from the anesthesia, and for a few blissful seconds, I forget why I feel like this. Then reality slams into me. I had surgery because I fell. Because I tore my rotator cuff. Because I was reckless and distracted, and now- Now, I might have just lost everything.

A choked sob lodges itself in my throat, but I swallow it down, blinking hard at the ceiling. I can’t cry. I won’t cry. Not in this sterile hospital room where everything smells like antiseptic and pity. The door creaks open, and I brace myself, expecting another nurse, another doctor, coming in with more reminders of what I already know.

Instead, it’s Alina and Alexei—my best friends. Alina rushes to my side immediately; her expression twisted in worry.

“Oh, Malyshka,”

she whispers, carefully avoiding my shoulder as she perches on the edge of the bed. “How are you feeling?”

I force a weak smile. “Like I got hit by a Zamboni.”

Alexei snorts, standing behind her with his arms crossed.

“Well, at least your sense of humor is intact.”

I roll my eyes but wince when the movement tugs at my shoulder. Alina glares at Alexei.

“Don’t make her laugh, idiot.”

He raises his hands in surrender.

“She started it.”

I shake my head, exhaustion settling deep in my bones.

“You guys don’t have to stay.”

Alina glares at me.

“ We absolutely do. And we will. So shut up.”

I sigh, knowing it’s pointless to argue.

Alexei gives me a knowing smirk before his expression softens slightly.

“Your dad was here to check on you, but you were still under the anesthesia. I called your mom and filled her in. She is currently looking for flights.”

I nodded at the information. My estranged father stopped by to see me. The realization that my father cared enough to check on me made me feel lighter.

“Coach says she’ll come by later. She’s waiting on the official recovery timeline.”

My stomach knots.

“Right.”

Neither says anything, but the unspoken words are loud enough—the Olympics. I try not to think about it, to let the possibility of missing everything consume me. But it does—it already does. So I do the only thing I can do. I shut down.

It’s been two weeks since my surgery, and I feel like a shell of the old me. I can’t skate, I can’t practice, I can’t do anything. I have barely spoken to the boys, mostly spending my days in class or in bed. At class, I take the farthest seat from them to be alone with my thoughts. The only people who still have access to me are Alina and Alexei. Who are now trying to get me to eat something so I don’t starve myself.

“Come on, Kat, you have to eat something. Please.”

Alina’s voice is tired, full of worry. I sit at the kitchen table, poking at my food, dragging my fork back and forth across the plate, but never actually lifting it to my mouth. I should just eat, but I can’t– because every bite reminds me of how I’ve lost control of everything. One more week, I can start physical therapy. But I still have two more months before I can skate again. There’s no way I’ll be ready for our next qualifiers on time. My dream is over. It’s over. Alina sighs, pushing her plate away.

“You can’t keep starving yourself. I understand you’re going through it, but we cannot help you if you don’t let us.”

I don’t respond. I walk out of the kitchen and head upstairs to my room. When I shut the door, my tears came fast, hot, and heavy. I lay down, curling into myself, silent sobs wracking my body. I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know who I am without skating. The door creaks open, but I don’t turn to look.

“Roomie, can i come in?”

I nod at Will, who moves closer, sitting beside me on the bed. I wait for him to say something, but he doesn’t. He just wraps his arms around me, carefully, gently, like I might break, giving me a big hug. “Please bring back our sassy roommate. I’d take her over Depressed Kat any day.”

A sob escapes before I can stop it. And I just cry. Will lets me. He doesn’t say a word. Just rubs my back, letting me fall apart.

“I’m sorry, Will,”

I choke out. “I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me. I can’t stop crying.”

He presses a hand to my back.

“We’d be more worried if you didn’t cry.”

I try to laugh, but it comes out strangled. Will places a kiss on top of my head and leaves the room without another word.

I try to sleep. But the pain in my shoulder is unbearable. I sit up on my bed in the darkness of my room, my arm throbbing even through the pain meds, and the weight of it all—the surgery, the recovery, the lost time—crushes me.

Tears slip down my cheeks before I can stop them, silent and heavy, and I bite my lip to keep the sob inside, but it’s no use. My heart starts pounding out of my chest as I sob. The door creaks open. At first, I think it’s Alina. But I see him.

Aiden steps inside quietly and carefully, as if he knows he’s walking

straight into a war zone. I stiffen, scrubbing at my face quickly, forcing myself to sit up even though my body protests the movement.

“Get out,”

I yell, but he doesn’t. He just closes the door behind him, his gaze locked onto mine, dark and unreadable.

“No.”

Anger flares in my chest.

“I don’t want you here.”

He slowly steps towards me, stopping at the edge of my bed.

“I don’t care.”

I glare, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t flinch.

“Go away, Aiden.”

He exhales through his nose, like he’s barely holding onto his patience.

“You’ve been shutting everyone out,”

he states, anger dripping from his voice.

“So what?”

I snap. “It’s my life, my career—”

“And you’re just going to give up?” I freeze.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to,”

he mutters. “I see it all over your face.”

Something cracks inside me.

“What do you want from me, Aiden?”

My voice breaks on his name, and I hate it. I hate how weak I sound, how raw I feel. Aiden doesn’t answer right away. He just looks at me, his expression unreadable, but there’s something in his eyes— something that makes my throat tighten.

“I want you to let me be here for you.”

I let out a shaky breath, staring at him like I don’t know who he is.

“Why?”

I whisper. His gaze flickers, something unreadable passing over his face before he says, low and rough—

“Because I can’t stand seeing you like this.”

My lip trembles, and I shake my head. “I—”

Before I can say anything else, he’s closing the space between us, carefully sitting on the edge of my bed. He doesn’t touch me, doesn’t push—just waits. And I hate that it works. I hate that my walls are already cracking. So I do the only thing I can do. I let go. I fall. Aiden catches me the second I do. I don’t know who moves first, but suddenly, I’m in his arms, my face buried in his chest, and I’m crying. Not silent tears. Not quiet grief. Broken.

I sob, leaning into him, my body trembling, and Aiden just holds me, his grip tight, solid, real. He runs his right hand through my hair to comfort me, pressing his lips against my temple, and he doesn’t say a word—just lets me fall apart in his arms. I shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t be letting this happen. But right now, I don’t care. Because the pain—the aching, burning, all-consuming pain that has settled deep in my chest—won’t stop, and I need something to drown it out. I need him to drown it out. So, when Aiden dark eyes flicker to my lips, I don’t hesitate.

“Aiden. Make me forget. Please?”

A single tear slips down my cheek.

His entire body goes still. I place my left hand on his jaw, my thumb rubbing his jaw. “Please, make me feel something other than pain.”

Whatever restraint he had left shatters. Aiden crushes his lips against mine, his hands immediately claiming me, one gripping the back of my neck, the other wrapping around my throat firmly. I melt into him, letting the kiss consume me, devour me. My tongue glides over his bottom lip, and when he groans, I smile against his mouth. He pulls me onto his lap, his strong hands guiding me as I straddle him. Aiden grabs my ass and pulls me down against him, forcing a gasp out of me.

“Aiden,”

I moan, my lips brushing against his ear. His entire body tenses beneath me, his grip tightens, and his mouth latches onto my neck, sucking, biting, owning. I arch against him, my fingers tangling in his hair, tugging when he finds the sensitive spot beneath my jaw. God. I can barely breathe.

I rock against him, feeling every hard, heated inch of his pressed against me, and my mind goes blank. Aiden groans, flipping me onto my back, careful not to jostle my injured shoulder. He hovers above me, his hands trailing up my sides, slipping beneath my shirt, his touch burning against my skin. Then, his eyes darken.

“Careful, my angel. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

His voice is hoarse, thick with restraint. I bite my bottom lip, my chest rising and falling rapidly as I stare down at him, drunk on the way he looks at me like I’m something holy. He slides his hands higher, fingers grazing the bottom of my breasts, and my breath catches. I need more.

I don’t even hesitate. I pull my shirt over my head, baring myself to him. Aiden sucks in a sharp breath, his eyes dropping. He licks his lips, his throat bobbing as he takes me in. “Fuck Goldie.”

He whispers, taking me in. Heat pools low in my stomach, my core tightening. Aiden's hands roam over my ribs, and his touch is both soft and desperate. He leans down, pressing open-mouthed kisses along my stomach, then up—higher, higher—until his lips brush the top of my chest. Then he sucks hard, leaving his mark, claiming me. I whimper, my fingers digging into his shoulders, my body writhing beneath him.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,”

he murmurs against my skin, his voice raw like he’s trying to memorize me. I reach for him, letting my hands explore every inch of his body—the solid lines of his abs, the dip of his waist, the way his muscles flex under my touch.

“It’s not fair.”

I lean forward, brushing my lips over his stomach. “You’re built like a fucking sculpture.”

Aiden lets out a deep chuckle, but it dies quickly when I kiss each ridge of his abs, my tongue flicking against his skin. His entire body shudders.

“You’re one to talk. You look like a fucking Godess Kat.”

His voice is wrecked, his eyes hungry as they rake over me.

I smirk, pulling his bottom lip between my teeth before sucking on it. Aiden groans, gripping my waist tightly, his fingers digging into my skin.

“You feel so good,”

I whisper against his ear before sucking on his earlobe.

His dick twitches beneath me, his jaw clenching as he grits his teeth.

I feel drunk on him, on the way his body reacts to mine, the way he holds himself back like he’s on the edge of losing control. “I don’t want this ever to end.”

I grip his face, slamming my lips against his.

He groans into my mouth, his hands guiding my hips, urging me to grind against him, and I do. It’s everything. The friction. The heat. The way his body tenses beneath me. I can feel him everywhere, and I can’t stop, don’t want to stop. Aiden curses, his fingers digging into my skin, and suddenly—the coil inside me snaps. A shudder rips through me as I reach my peak, my mouth falling open, my fingers clutching onto Aiden for dear life. I gas, burying my face against his shoulder as I whisper his name, my entire body trembling. His arms wrap around me, holding me through it, his breathing just as ragged. Holy shit. I collapse against him, my cheek resting on his chest, my heart still racing. Aiden’s hand slides through my hair, his fingers tangling in the strands, and when I look up at him, he’s grinning.

“Hi,”

I smirk, breathless. Aiden chuckles.

“Hi.”

He kisses me again, deep and slow, like he never wants to stop, and I never want him to. Aiden pulls away, his hands settling on my waist, lifting me off him. “I need to use the bathroom,”

he mutters, standing quickly. My eyes drop to his crotch, and I bite my lip to keep from grinning. Aiden shoots me a glare, shaking his head. I point toward the bathroom, barely holding in my laughter. He mutters under his breath, stalking toward the door and shutting it behind him. I hear the faucet turn on, but it’s not loud enough to swallow Aidens words. “Old lady, naked grandma, think, Aiden, think.”

I burst out laughing, burying my face in the pillow. A few minutes later, the bathroom door opens, and Aiden steps out, looking much calmer.

“Are you going to stay?”

I ask, my voice smaller than I intended. His eyes meet mine, and he nods. I smile as he slides into bed beside me, pulling the covers over us. I turn onto my side, keeping a safe distance between us. But Aiden frowns, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me flush against him, his chest pressed to my back. I can feel his heartbeat against my spine, fast and heavy, just like mine.

He breathes against my neck, his voice low, deep, raw—

“No more space, Angel Face.”

I exhale slowly, closing my eyes as exhaustion overtakes me, my body sinking into his warmth, my fingers curled into his hoodie like I’m afraid he’ll disappear if I let go. But he doesn’t.

He stays, and for the first time since surgery, the weight on my chest lifts just enough for me to breathe. I wake up hours later, still tangled against him. I shift slightly, expecting him to move or pull away, but his arms tighten around me, his voice barely above a whisper as he speaks. “Go back to sleep, Angel Face.”

And for once— I do.