Page 36 of The Long Game (Game Changers #6)

Luca’s pale, baby-smooth face turned pink. “No! I wasn’t—”

“Was a joke.” Ilya walked toward him. “You are here alone?”

“Yes. I like the quiet, sometimes.”

Ilya sat on the weight bench beside him. “I understand that.”

“If you want to be alone I can—”

“No, no. Is not what I meant.” Ilya smiled at him. “You seem a bit scared of me.”

“I still can’t believe we are on the same team.”

Ilya chuckled. “How long until you believe it?”

“Years, maybe?”

Ilya held out his hand. “Ilya Rozanov. Normal guy. Nice to meet you.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Luca shook his hand. “Luca Haas. Embarrassing fanboy.”

Ilya gestured to the weight bench a few feet away, and Luca sat facing him.

“How do you like Ottawa?” Ilya asked.

“In some ways it reminds me of Zurich, but in others it is very different.”

Ilya nodded. He’d been to Zurich once and remembered the river that wound through the city, the low buildings, and the museums. He could see the similarities.

“Was it hard for you?” Luca asked. “When you left home?”

Ilya answered honestly. “No. I couldn’t wait.”

“Oh.” Luca frowned at his folded hands.

“But,” Ilya amended, “there was...adjustments. It was not so easy, with the language and the culture. I had no Russian teammates, and, like you, there was many expectations for me to be great right away.”

Luca nodded. “Yes. It’s a lot of pressure.”

“I was great right away. Made it easier,” Ilya joked.

Luca laughed. “That would help.”

Ilya stretched out a foot and nudged Luca’s sneaker. “You are also doing great. The fans love you. You see how much Harris posts about you. Can’t get enough. I see Haas jerseys all over town.” That was a bit of an exaggeration. He’d seen two.

“Thank you.”

A silence fell between them that was interrupted by Ilya’s favorite sound: a dog barking.

He stood and looked toward the door of the gym. “Is that Chiron?” he called out.

A second later, the team puppy came charging into the room, followed by Harris. “It sure is,” Harris said, smiling as usual. “I heard you were in here and I thought—”

“Yes!” Ilya exclaimed, crouching to greet Chiron. He’d never needed a puppy in his arms so badly. He let Chiron sniff and lick his fingers, then scooped him up and cuddled him against his chest. “He is already so big!”

“Yup,” Harris agreed. “He’s a beast.”

Luca approached cautiously. “Can I pet him?”

“Yeah, man,” Harris said. “Get in there.”

Luca scratched the top of Chiron’s head with one finger.

“Okay. Hold on,” Harris said. He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “This is way too cute.” He snapped some photos that Ilya knew would kill later on Instagram.

“Hey, guys,” called out a cheerful voice from the doorway. Coach Wiebe sauntered in wearing workout clothes. Ilya couldn’t help but notice that he looked good in them.

“Coach,” Ilya and Luca said at the same time.

“I am ninety percent sure dogs aren’t allowed in here,” Wiebe said. “But ninety isn’t a hundred, right?” He took over head-scritching from Luca, except he used his whole hand.

“You like dogs?” Ilya asked.

“Love them. We’ve got a big ol’ golden retriever at home. Lollipop. The kids named her, so don’t look at me. We call her Lolly, mostly.”

“I need to meet Lolly,” Ilya said seriously. “Bring her to work someday.”

“She’s anxious around new people,” Coach said. “She was a rescue from a bad situation, so she mostly sticks to home and her regular walk route. Sweetest thing, though.”

Ilya almost laughed. His coach was seriously the nicest guy on earth.

“Are you boys going to the hospital visit this week?” Coach asked. The team visited the local children’s hospital every December. Ilya wouldn’t miss it for the world.

“Of course,” Ilya said. “I have been training for my Mario Kart rematch.”

Coach laughed. “And how about our star rookie?”

“Yes,” Luca said. “I will be there.”

“I hope Barrett’s going,” Coach said. “I know it’ll be a rough week for him, with the game in Toronto after, but I think it would be good for him.”

Ilya agreed, and he’d make sure Troy would be there.

They all played around with Chiron for about twenty minutes, then Harris announced that Chiron’s trainer was there to pick him up. Ilya watched miserably as Harris left with the puppy.

“Do you think the other dogs are nice to him at his school?” Ilya asked no one in particular.

“Only the best of the best get to be in that place,” Coach assured him. “It’s like the NHL of dogs.”

“Yes, but there are huge assholes in the NHL.”

Coach laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “Yeah, but not in Ottawa.”

“I came out to Troy Barrett,” Ilya said, a week later.

Shane nearly choked on the sip he’d just taken of his smoothie. “What?” he asked after a fit of coughing. He was glad this wasn’t a video call.

“I told him I am bisexual,” Ilya said calmly, as if he’d told Troy that he liked pizza or something.

As if he revealed his sexuality to people all the time when Shane knew he’d barely told anyone.

Ilya had told Shane that Troy wasn’t such a bad guy, now that he was getting to know him, but it still seemed fucking nuts that Ilya would choose him of all people to share this closely guarded secret with.

“When? Why?”

“Last night. I wanted to tell someone.”

All right. Shane didn’t know that this had been weighing on Ilya, and that made him feel like a shitty boyfriend. But he could worry about that later. “Why him?”

For a moment, there was silence. Then Ilya said, “You can’t tell anyone this.”

“Tell anyone what?”

“Promise me.”

“Fine. I promise. What?”

“He came out to me first,” Ilya said.

Shane blinked. “I’m sorry. What?”

“He told me he is gay. I don’t think he has told many people. Maybe no one. So it felt like I should, you know. Share back.”

“Troy Barrett is gay?” Given the fact that Troy had always seemed like a homophobic douchebag to Shane, this was a lot to process.

“Yes. But that is a secret.”

Shane closed his eyes. Okay. Troy Barrett was gay, and also he was friends with Ilya now. Weird. “Of course I won’t tell anyone.”

“I know.”

“Why did he tell you?” It suddenly occurred to Shane that the reason Troy had come out to Ilya was because he was interested in Ilya.

“I took him out last night. To the Kingfisher. Was his first gay bar, he said.” Then Ilya laughed. “You’d like him. You are both very bad at being gay.”

“Hilarious,” Shane said flatly. “So what happened at the bar?”

“We had a nice talk with the queer New York hockey players.”

“Scott and Eric were there?”

“Yes. They own the bar.”

“I know, but—” Shane sighed. “Okay. So you had a queer NHL player meeting.”

“You feel left out?”

“I mean, yeah. Kind of. What were you guys doing there?”

“Just talking. Drinking beer. Having a fun time. You would have hated it.”

“Did Troy come out to everyone there?”

“No. Just me. Was after. We were walking to the hotel.”

“Sounds romantic,” Shane grumbled.

“Shane. He is in love with Harris. Not me.” There was a beat of silence, then Ilya added, “That is also a secret. Though not a good one because Troy is very obvious about this crush.”

“Just to recap,” Shane said. “Your new friend Troy Barrett is gay and in love with your team’s social media manager?”

“Yes.”

“Were you surprised when he told you? Because I’m pretty fucking surprised.”

“No. Because of the crush on Harris thing. And also he was checking me out a few times.”

Shane exhaled slowly. “I don’t think I like Troy.”

“Why? You have a lot in common. You both are short, gay, and both think I am hot.”

“Your favorite qualities in a man.”

“You are both very pretty. Nice dark hair. Troy also does not have chest hair.”

“Let’s stop talking about Troy Barrett.”

Ilya laughed. “It is cute how you are jealous.”

“I am absolutely not jealous of Troy fucking Barrett.” Except for how Troy got to spend so much time with Ilya, play hockey on the same line as him, and, apparently, check him out in the locker room and go to gay bars with him.

“I only am telling you,” Ilya said in a more serious tone, “because it was nice. To talk about this with someone.”

Wait. “You didn’t tell him about us, did you?”

“Of course I didn’t fucking tell him about us!” Then Ilya mumbled something in angry Russian. Shane only caught about half of the words.

“What was that?”

“Only you can tell your friends about us, right? This is how it works?”

“What the hell are you talking about? And since when is Troy your closest friend?”

Ilya exhaled loudly into the phone. “I have to go. Practice soon.”

Shane didn’t understand why they were both so angry, but ending the call before one of them said something they couldn’t take back was probably a good idea. “Fine.” He winced at the bitchiness of his tone, then said, more gently, “Call me after practice?”

“I might be busy having sex with Troy,” Ilya said tightly.

“Ilya...”

“I have to go.”

The call went dead.

Shane slumped against his kitchen counter and started thinking about all the ways that conversation could have gone better.

Ilya didn’t call Shane after practice. Instead he took a nap, ate dinner, and got ready for his game that night against the New York Admirals. The Admirals were the best team in the league, so Shane would understand why Ilya would need to focus.

Not that he cared if Shane understood. Shane certainly hadn’t understood why it had been important for Ilya to tell someone—anyone—that he was bisexual.

And why it had felt so good to have his teammate come out to him.

How good it felt to be making a new friend, and to have earned that friend’s trust so quickly.

Maybe Ilya shouldn’t have told Shane. Maybe he should have saved all this for his next session with Galina. Not that he would out Troy to his therapist, but he would find a way to talk about it. Galina would understand why this was important to Ilya. She knew how lonely he was.