Page 23 of The Long Game (Game Changers #6)

“What are you doing tonight?” J.J. asked.

“Nothing,” Shane said, then immediately regretted it. Ilya had left yesterday and Shane was feeling the loss. He didn’t want to do anything social tonight.

J.J. placed one hand on the wall of Shane’s locker room stall, above where Shane was sitting, boxing him in. “Sweet. You should come out with me. I’m meeting some friends at this amazing cocktail bar that my buddy Benoit opened.”

“I don’t drink,” Shane reminded him.

“Still?”

“Yes. Still.” Shane resumed untying his skates, hopefully indicating that the conversation was over.

“Okay, well, they have other stuff to drink. I’ll bet they make, like, bomb mocktails.”

Shane almost reminded him that he didn’t consume most of the probable ingredients in a mocktail either, but decided to just shut the whole thing down instead. “I’m gonna stay in. But thanks.”

J.J. sighed and sat in the stall next to Shane.

Hayden’s stall, but Hayden was in the shower.

“It’s not healthy,” he said, in French. When J.J.

switched to French with Shane, it usually meant he was about to get real.

Or that he was drunk. “What do you do besides come to practice—” he waved a hand around the locker room, indicating the activity they’d just finished “—play games, work out, and sleep?”

“Lots of stuff,” Shane argued, hoping he wouldn’t be asked for specific examples.

“Like what?”

“I...see friends.”

“Friends,” J.J. said flatly. And skeptically. “Like who? Your parents?”

“No,” Shane said quickly, then scrambled for examples. “Hayden?”

J.J. frowned at him, then said, “Come out tonight.”

“Why?”

“Because...”

Oh god. “Because why?”

“There’s someone I want you to meet.”

Shane bent and yanked his skate off. “Nope. No way.”

“He’s super nice, and, y’know, handsome. He’s a personal trainer, and I figured you’d probably be into that.”

“And let me guess: he’s gay and single.”

“Well, yeah.”

Shane wanted to snap at him that just because a man was gay and single and handsome and a personal trainer didn’t mean that Shane would—okay, well, under different circumstances Shane probably would be into all of that, but that wasn’t the point.

The point was that Shane had a perfectly good secret boyfriend, so obviously it was rude of J.J.

to try to set Shane up with other men. Even if J.J.

didn’t know Shane was with anyone, and probably assumed Shane hadn’t had sex in years. Or ever.

The truth was, it was kind of sweet that Shane’s NHL teammate was trying to find him a man to date.

After a slow exhale, Shane said, “I appreciate it, and I’m sure he’s very nice.”

“And handsome,” J.J. reminded him. “Even I can see that.”

“Sure. But I’m really not looking for a date right now.” There. That was straightforward. And honest.

J.J.’s eyes were full of concern, which made Shane doubt that he was going to let this go. “Why don’t you want to date anyone? It doesn’t have to be serious. You could just get laid, y’know?”

Shane glanced around the room nervously, but no one seemed to be paying attention. “I’m fine,” he said tersely.

J.J. laughed. “If being wound so tight you seem like you are going to fly apart at any second is fine, then sure.”

“I’m not!” Shane said in the tone of someone who was about to fly apart. “Do the other guys think so? Do I seem distracted or something? Is it affecting my game? Is that what this is about?”

J.J. switched to English. “No! Buddy, no. This is me, as a friend. You’re a great guy and I want you to be happy. That’s all. I promise.”

Shane leaned back in his stall until his head bumped against the wall. “Okay.”

“Okay, you’ll meet David, or...”

“David?” Shane decided to play this up as an end to the conversation. “My dad’s name is David. I can’t date a David!”

J.J. took Shane’s objection seriously. “Shit. Sorry. I didn’t even think of that. You’re right.” He stood, looking dejected.

“Hey,” Shane said, “I do appreciate it. Really.”

J.J. brightened at that. “So if I meet any nice single gay guys who aren’t named David...”

“Introduce them to David,” Shane said. “Really. I’ll let you know if I’m ever looking, okay?” Which would hopefully be never.

J.J. nodded. “I’ll mind my own business. Got it.”

He left just as Hayden returned from the shower, wearing only a towel wrapped snugly around his waist. Hayden watched J.J. leave, then turned to Shane. “Did he try to set you up with that guy?”

“He told you?” Shane did not like the idea of his love life being a team concern.

“Yeah, he told me.”

“Why didn’t you, like, discourage him?”

“Because the dude sounded perfect for you.” Hayden held his arms out when Shane’s mouth dropped open. “What? I think you can do better!”

“For fuck’s sake. Thanks, Hayden.”

Hayden sat next to him, and nudged his arm with his elbow. “I’m kidding. Mostly. Besides.” He leaned in. “I know you and Ilya are married now, so...”

Shane closed his eyes. “Oh my god.”

“Jade told me it was a beautiful ceremony. I’m a little hurt that I wasn’t invited but, y’know. I’m happy for you kids.”

“Shut up.”

Hayden laughed, and eventually Shane joined him.

“You know,” Hayden said seriously, “even though I give you shit about him, I do hope that I’d be invited. If you ever did get married for real.”

Shane stared at him, simultaneously touched by Hayden’s support and baffled that he thought Shane wouldn’t invite him to this hypothetical wedding. “Of course you would be. Don’t be fucking stupid.”

Hayden grinned. “Good. Just making sure.”

“I kind of doubt we’d ever have, like, a traditional wedding with all the stuff, but if we have anything at all, you’re on the list, all right?”

“Cool. Is Rozanov on the list, or...”

“Fuck off,” Shane laughed. “You’re off the list now.”

“No way.”

“Yup. All the way off.”

“Nuh-uh. I’m your best man. And the MC.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Shit, I’ll get, like, annulled, or whatever. Marry you guys myself.”

“Do you mean ordained?”

“Sure. Okay.”

“Annulled means ending a marriage, dumbass. Do you want to end your marriage and marry both of us? Because that’s how that sounded.”

“Fuck no! First of all, Jackie rules, and second of all, I would never marry Rozanov.”

“So you’d marry me?”

Hayden turned a little pink. “No! I’m not—no!”

Shane decided to go easy on him, because this was getting weird. “You’re my best man, Hayden. One hundred percent.”

“Fucking right.” Hayden held out his fist, and Shane bumped it. “I’ve gotta go film a FanMail.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“FanMail! It’s a website where fans pay money to have their favorite celebrities send them little video greetings. Or to send videos to other people, like their dads or whatever.”

“Seriously? You do this?”

“Uh...yeah. I get a hundred dollars a pop for wishing randos a happy birthday. Of course I do it.”

“Does it cost extra if you’re only wearing a towel?”

Hayden grinned. “I was gonna get dressed first! Jesus, dude.”

“Maybe you should be on that other site? The porn one.”

“The porn site? Like, the one and only porn site? Is that the one I should be on?”

“Shut up. You know the one I mean.”

“Sure. Is it porno site dot com?”

“OnlyFans! That’s the one I mean! Isn’t that where people, like, do sex stuff for money?”

Hayden laughed so hard Shane worried he would lose his towel. “You are so innocent. I love it.”

“I am not.” Why did everyone act like he was a total prude? Even Ilya—the man he had actual sex with on the regular—teased him about it.

“Sorry,” Hayden said, still laughing. “I’m sure you’re wild in bed.”

“You think I’m not?”

Hayden held up his hands. “Please don’t tell me.”

Fuck Hayden. Shane could be wild in bed. He wasn’t always uptight. “You sure? Because the other night—”

“Nope!” Hayden backed away. “Hard no. Super no.”

Shane shook his head. “Get dressed, dickhead.”

Hayden began rooting through his bag for clean clothes. “It’s okay if the magic is gone. That happens after you get married. Sometimes. Not to me, obviously.”

“You’re such an idiot,” Shane said, but he was fighting a smile. And he was already brainstorming ways to show a bit of his wild side to Ilya next time he had a chance.

Ilya was surrounded by beautiful women. They were all married to his teammates, but still. Beautiful.

His teammates were beautiful too. Everyone and everything was beautiful. He caught a glimpse of himself in the giant mirror that hung on one wall of his spacious living room. Swirling colorful disco lights glinted off his breastplate and wrist cuffs as he danced. Stunning.

He was maybe a little bit drunk. And a little bit high. A distant, annoying voice in the back of his brain—a voice that sounded a lot like Shane Hollander’s—suggested that he might not be setting the best example for the younger players at the moment, as team captain.

But a louder voice said this was a party, in Ilya’s own home, and he was having fun and so was everyone else. Because Ilya knew how to throw a party.

The song that was pulsing on the sound system was good. Ilya didn’t know what it was, or who had taken over the music.

Evan Dykstra was dancing next to him, dressed like a bee.

He did not look stunning. His wife, Caitlin, was dancing with him, wearing a butterfly costume.

She had her arm around Evan’s neck, and they were smiling at each other like they were the only ones in the room.

This was a rare night out for the two of them, now that they had a baby at home.

Ilya decided to take a break from dancing. His costume was heavy and much too warm for a crowded house party, and his cape was all twisted.

“Going to get some air,” he said in the general direction of Evan and Caitlin. They didn’t even look at him. He noticed, as he walked away, that the makeshift dance floor was full of couples. He must have been the only one dancing alone.