We stripped each other slowly, carefully, both of us eager, but somehow aware, that this was too precious to be rushed. My sweater went first, Shane’s hands running up the length of my ribcage and hooking the fabric on his wrists before he pushed it over my head. His hoodie was next, my hands a lot less graceful as I tugged and pulled until he helped me get it off. We laughed when his elbow got caught in the sleeve, but it only made the moment feel more real. More ours.
When at last we were bare, he paused, forehead pressed to mine, chest rising and falling like he was trying to catch his breath. “Are you sure?” he whispered; voice rough.
“Yes.” My answer came without hesitation. Because I was. Because for the first time in my life, I wanted to give myself to someone completely.
He reached for his bag, pulled out his wallet, and retrieved a condom from inside. My cheeks warmed, but my heart ached with how gentle he was, how careful, like he’d thought about protecting me before he ever let himself imagine this.
Shane laid me back into the bed, pulling the sheets over us and balancing on his forearms above me. My heart was hammering in my chest as he kissed me, one hand reaching between us.
When he entered me, I gasped, overwhelmed at the sharp stretch, the sudden rush of sensation. He stilled instantly,brushing his lips over my temple, waiting until I nodded, until I shifted my hips to meet his.
And then it was slow, tender, every movement deliberate. His arms shook with the weight of him, with the restraint he showed in taking me slowly. My breaths came in shivers, eyes stinging with tears I didn’t want to blink away.
Because it wasn’t just physical. It was soul-deep. It was the first time I’d ever felt like I belonged somewhere, like I was cherished instead of tolerated.
And as we moved together, as we kissed through the trembling and the laughter and the whispered promises, I realized there would be no untangling us now.
Our lives were forever woven, threads stitched in a night I’d never forget.
Shaking Things Up
Shane
Present
I sat next to Nathan Black at the team roster announcement press conference in early October, my arms tightly crossed, gaze focused on the microphone in front of me.
I was pissed, but had to act like every decision he was announcing was a team one that I backed completely. I hoped I looked relaxed and neutral the way I did during any press conference I wasn’t exactly looking forward to — like the ones that came after a brutal loss.
This felt even worse than that, somehow.
It was the first time in my career with the Ospreys that my choices weren’t just second-guessed, but overridden completely. Dick had always trusted my instinct on which players to start, which to send to the AHL for now, and which to let go completely.
Nathan, on the other hand, had smiled at me and patted my shoulder like I was some fucking kid, and he thought my efforts were adorable.
Then, he’d smashed my plans to pieces.
For the most part, our starters were the same. It was hard to argue that the guys on our first and second lines didn’t deservethose spots. They were fierce, hungry — ready to go after the Stanley Cup after losing in the playoff race last season.
But from there, things went haywire.
Nathan chose to send players down to the AHL who I argued deserved a spot with the Ospreys. He put a veteran on waivers, someone who the fans assumed would retire an Osprey — me included. And perhaps the most controversial decision — he kept on a rookie who was vastly outplayed in camp.
As if I hadn’t had enough of his bullshit explaining this to me and my staff, I now had to listen to him charm the pants off everyone in the press room and hope this didn’t fall back on me in the end.
“We had some really competitive camp battles this year,” he continued, answering a journalist’s question about his decision regarding the rookie. “These are good problems to have — depth is a luxury. We want guys who play hungry, and Baranov earned his spot.”
“And Wood didn’t?” the journalist probed.
My stomach soured at the mention of our ten-year veteran, who was now on waivers, waiting to see if anyone in the league would take a chance on him before noon tomorrow.
“Wood has served this team incredibly, but all journeys must come to an end. I have faith he will find even more success with the team lucky enough to claim him off waivers.”
Lights flashed, more hands shot up into the air, all of the journalists in the room clamoring to be the one Nathan addressed next.
A few minutes passed in a daze before someone asked me how I was feeling about the season ahead with the roster set, and I faked my best confidence as I answered that the team was strong and ready. Neither was a lie, but I was far from feeling my best with the way the rug had been yanked from under my feet courtesy of my new GM.
When the attention was back on Nathan, I let mine wander around the room.
