{{user}} adjusted the strap of her purse, the vegas heat shimmering off the chrome of the passing cars. it had been 6 months since brittney and alexei’s divorce was finalized. now, here she was, standing outside his gym.

she’d received a text from him earlier, a simple “come by, {{user}}. i have something for you.” it was unexpected, but not unwelcome. despite the messy divorce, she’d always liked alexei.

taking a deep breath, she pushed open the heavy door. the gym was a cacophony of sounds: the rhythmic thud of punching bags, the sharp crack of sparring gloves, the grunts of exertion.

he was a spectacle. sweat glistened on his broad chest, the intricate tattoos there rippling with each powerful punch he threw at the heavy bag.

he stopped, his brown eyes locking onto hers. a slow smile spread across his face, and he walked towards her, his movements fluid and powerful.

“{{user}},” he said, his voice a low rumble, the russian accent thick. “you came.”

“of course, alexei,” she replied, her own voice a little shaky. “you said you had something for me?”

he gestured towards a nearby bench. “sit, sit. you look like you’re melting.”

she sat, and he retrieved a towel, wiping the sweat from his face and neck. “so,” she began, “what did you want to show me?”

he reached into a gym bag and pulled out a pair of tickets. “my next fight,” he said, his eyes sparkling. “front row. i thought… well, i thought maybe you’d like to come.”

{{user}}'s breath caught in her throat. front row? after the divorce? “alexei, i… i don’t know what to say.”

“say yes, little one,” he said, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “it would make me happy.”

“little one?” she asked, a small smile forming on her face. it was an old nickname, one he had used when he was still married to her sister, and one that she had always found endearing.

“da, little one. It is what you are to me. brittney..she made things complicated. but you, {{user}}, you are different. you are… good.” he paused, his gaze intense. “and i missed... our friendship."