HEARTBREAKER ON ICE (MVP'S REGRET)

"Xian... oh god, Xian don't stop!" The woman moaned his name in extreme pleasure and satisfaction, her voice breaking as she begged. Xian Williams gripped her hips tighter in the dim private lounge, the bass from the main bar vibrating through the walls. Sweat slicked their bodies after the team's explosive first NHL win. She was a die hard fan who had approached him at the bar, eyes shining with hero worship. Now she arched beneath him, lost in the heat of three intense rounds that left both breathing hard. He gave her what she craved, movements possessive and skilled until she shattered again. Satisfaction coursed through him, the kind that followed a game winning performance. Yet even in the peak moment a faint hollow feeling lingered. This was easy. No complications. Just release. Finally they collapsed. Xiam watched her drift into deep sleep, exhaustion claiming her features. He did not want to wake her. Quietly he dressed, leaving the rumpled cushions and her peaceful form behind. The door clicked shut softly as he stepped into the cooler hallway. Victory tasted sharp tonight. His teammates were still out there celebrating but he needed space. He pulled out his phone and dialed without thinking. One ring. Two. Leah answered on the third. "Leah, private lounge at The Icehouse. Back corner. She's asleep. Handle it like always," Xian said, keeping his tone light. A pause stretched on the line. "Of course. I'll be there soon," Leah replied, voice steady but edged. Xian ended the call and exhaled. His best friend, his manager, his constant. She always came through. Guilt tried to surface but he pushed it down. Old times. This pattern worked. Why fix what kept his life smooth? Leah Gomez killed the engine outside the bar, her hands trembling slightly on the wheel. Another night. Another girl. She had seen the game, watched Xian score the decisive goal, his grin flashing across the arena screens. Pride mixed with fresh pain as she walked through the employee entrance the staff knew her by now. The private lounge smelled of cologne, alcohol and intimacy. The fan lay curled under a thin throw, hair messy, a content smile on her lips even in sleep. Leah's chest tightened painfully. She approached gently. "Hey, wake up. Time to head home." The girl stirred, blinking with confusion that shifted to dreamy recall. "Xian was amazing. Three rounds. He made me feel... I kept begging him not to stop. Is he coming back?" Leah forced a professional smile while inside something cracked deeper. "He's already gone. Let's get you an Uber." She helped gather the scattered items, a signed jersey, a phone full of hidden memories this stranger now owned. Each small task felt like swallowing glass. She had loved Xiam since they were kids running through backyards. Through his rise to MVP, his injuries, his fame. She managed his schedule, shielded his image, and quietly cleaned up these conquests. Never chosen. Never touched the way this fan had been. The cool night air outside offered little relief. Leah ushered the girl into the car, pressing extra cash into her hand. "Hydrate and rest." The taillights faded and Leah stood alone, arms hugging her middle. Regret washed over her in waves. Why did she keep answering? Because leaving him to face the fallout would hurt more than this secret heartbreak. She imagined his hands on the stranger, the moans, the satisfaction. It stung like betrayal even though they shared no promises. Obsessive thoughts swirled. She wanted to be the one begging his name, the one he could not walk away from. Instead she remained the rock. Reliable. Invisible. Her phone lit up with a message from her brother Drew. She ignored it for now. Her mom Susan would worry if she sensed anything. Cathy would defend her son with blind love. Coach Alex expected focus tomorrow. Dexter would joke about the afterparty. None knew how deeply this cut Leah. She returned inside to check the lounge. Xian sat there now on the couch, shirt unbuttoned, scrolling his phone with that post victory ease. The sight of him, hair tousled, body still carrying the flush of exertion, sent unwanted heat through her mixed with sharp regret. "You got here fast," Xiam noted, glancing up. "Thanks for handling her." Leah busied herself adjusting cushions to hide her expression. "She said it was incredible. Begged you not to stop, apparently. Glad the win celebration hit the spot." He chuckled low. "Three solid rounds. Exactly what I needed. No strings, just pure fun." Xiam stood and moved closer. His presence filled the space, possessive even in casual moments. "You always save me, Leah. What would I do without my best friend on speed dial?" The words landed like blows. She straightened, meeting his eyes. Pain flickered secretly behind her composed face. Years of this. Watching him chase thrills while she orbited silently. The thrill of his success now carried obsessive darkness for her. What if she stopped? What if she let the scandals pile up? But love, twisted and deep, held her in place. She hated how much she still craved him. "Practice at eight sharp," she said instead. "Dexter already texted about riding together. Coach Morgan wants full focus after tonight's energy." Xiam brushed her shoulder lightly. The touch burned. "Maybe after this season we do something normal. Just us. Like before all this NHL madness." Leah's heart lurched with fragile hope then plummeted into familiar regret. Empty words. She had heard them before. "That sounds good." Her voice stayed even but emotion churned underneath. She wanted to scream her truth, confess how every fetched girl made her feel disposable, how his casual departures carved her hollow. Dramatic tension thickened the air between them, years of unspoken longing clashing with his oblivious charm. He lingered, expression shifting to something almost regretful as if sensing the weight she carried. The lounge felt smaller, the drama of their tangled roles pressing close. Leah turned away first, gathering the last remnants. Her hands shook faintly. Xian watched, the guilt in his gaze deepening for once. "Tell me honestly," she whispered, turning back. "Do you even realize what this does to me every single time?"