Page 4 of The Long Game (Game Changers #6)

Shane spun to face him, eyes glinting. “The problem is that I’m trying to run a camp with a fucking toddler.”

“Is this about the puck thing?” Ilya asked innocently.

“It’s about you having to always make me look like an idiot!”

“Come on.”

“Why’d you do it? Because Laurent’s handsome?”

“Laurent.” Ilya took a triumphant step toward him. “So you are attracted to him.”

“What? No. I mean, yes. He’s nice to look at but—”

“And he liked looking at you.”

Shane paused at that, and his cheeks pinked in a way that Ilya normally loved. He was not so into it now. “As if,” Shane said. “You weren’t even there.”

“I could tell.”

Shane was only inches away from him now, his head tilted back so he could glare directly at Ilya despite their height difference. “You almost gave me a heart attack with that stupid puck, and why? Because you thought I was flirting?”

Ilya huffed. “You do not know how to flirt.”

Shane’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Ilya.”

Ilya looked away. “I was jealous, maybe.”

“Keep going.”

“I... It was stupid, okay? I am not proud.”

When he turned his gaze back to Shane, he found him smiling at him, but not in a nice way. More in a victorious, smug way. “What did you really think was going to happen?”

Ilya shrugged. “Maybe you would think he was nice. Hot. Not a rival hockey player.” He was terrified that one day Shane would realize he could be with someone who wasn’t a dark secret. That it could be easy to love someone.

Shane exhaled loudly, his exasperation clear. “I have spent the whole day trying not to—” His eyes darted to the door, which was ajar, likely realizing how loudly he was talking. He dropped his voice to a near whisper. “Trying not to be obvious about how fucking in love with you I am.”

“Shane—”

“No. Shut up. If you really don’t get that I’m not going to leave you for the first cute guy who smiles at me, then I don’t know what we’re even doing, Ilya.”

“I’m sorry,” Ilya said, because suddenly he really was. “Was a weird day. I was maybe just...” He sighed. “I’m sorry.”

Shane rested a hand on Ilya’s chest. “I’m yours. You know that.”

“I know.” Ilya found himself leaning in for a kiss, completely forgetting where they were.

He remembered slightly too late.

“Oh god,” said a voice from the doorway. “Not again.”

Ryan Price was filling the doorway with his massive body, looking mortified.

“We weren’t!” Shane said quickly. “We were just talking.”

Ryan glanced between them, which wasn’t hard to do because they were practically stuck together. “Okay.”

Ilya took a step back, and very calmly said, “Can we help you with something?”

“The, uh, news guys are packing up and wanted to talk to you. I ran into them on my way out.”

“Thanks.” Shane sounded like he wanted to die. “We’ll be right there.”

Ryan nodded again. “Okay. Well. See you tomorrow.” He darted away before either Shane or Ilya could respond.

“I like that guy,” Ilya said.

“Me too. And I like that he can keep a secret.”

“Yes. Maybe we can go out this week with him and his Fabian.”

“What, like a double date?”

“Sure. Why not?” They’d had Hayden Pike and his wife, Jackie, over to Shane’s house a few times.

And they’d gone to the Pikes’ house once, which had been fun because Ilya had been able to play with their four awesome kids and ignore Hayden.

But they’d never hung out together with another queer couple.

Not one that knew about their relationship. Ilya thought it might be...neat.

Shane’s face scrunched up in an adorable way and Ilya knew he was trying to find a reason to protest, but in the end he smiled and said, “Wow. We could really do that, couldn’t we?”

Ilya smiled back. “We could.”

Shane blew out a breath. “Okay. I’m going to go talk to Laurent.”

“Is he invited on our date too? Are we breaking your no threesomes rule?”

Shane was already walking out the door, flipping Ilya off with a hand behind his back.

“What’s Shane’s problem?” Yuna asked.

Ilya glanced at the kitchen table, where Shane was staring miserably into the middle distance, the lower part of his face covered by his folded hands.

“Looks normal to me,” Ilya said dryly. He sprinkled some blueberries over the salad he’d made to go with the chicken Yuna had baked for dinner.

“Shane, what’s wrong?” Yuna asked.

Shane exhaled slowly, lowered his hands, and said, “Nothing. Just, y’know, replaying the entire day in my head. I can’t believe Ryan walked in on us again.”

Yuna turned away from the chicken breasts she’d been checking. “Seriously, guys?”

“We weren’t doing anything!” Shane clarified.

“Shane was about to,” Ilya said.

“I was not.”

“You were going to kiss me.”

“You were going to kiss me.”

“Okay. Enough,” Yuna said. “It’s not such a big deal, right? Ryan’s gay, so he must be...” She rotated one hand in the air, searching for the right words. “Cool with it.”

“He looked horrified,” Shane said.

“Is fine,” Ilya said easily. “He has known for a year and has not told anyone. Where is the goat cheese?”

“I know, but it’s embarrassing. And unprofessional. And we’ve burdened the poor guy with a pretty huge secret,” Shane said. “Leave the cheese off my salad, okay?”

“I know.”

“I like Ryan,” Yuna said. “He’s a big sweetie.”

“Yes,” Ilya agreed. “We are going to ask about a double date with him and his boyfriend, maybe.”

Yuna placed her hands on Ilya’s shoulders and squeezed, once. “I love that idea.”

Ilya bit his lip to contain his smile. He really liked Shane’s family.

“You don’t think you could tell the rest of the staff about your relationship?” Yuna asked, returning to the chicken. It was a question Ilya had been asking himself a lot. He focused on getting the goat cheese out of the fridge and let Shane answer.

“Not yet,” Shane said. “Leah and Max would be safe, I think. But we don’t know them that well, so I don’t really see the point in telling them, y’know?”

“We could tell Wyatt, maybe,” Ilya said.

“You think?” Shane asked. Then he shook his head. “I don’t want your goalie to know. Too weird.”

“Hayden knows,” Yuna pointed out. “Why can’t Ilya’s teammate know?”

“Hayden is my best friend, and the only one of my teammates who knows. I’m sure as hell not telling J.J.”

“Can I tell him?” Ilya asked.

“Don’t even joke about that.” Shane sighed. “I love J.J., and he’s been really supportive of me being gay, but he’s not ready to hear about us. Trust me.”

“Well, neither was I,” Yuna said. “But I got over it.”

“J.J. isn’t my mom.”

“No,” Yuna said. “Your mom is the one making dinner at the end of a long day while you sit on your butt and mope. Come help.”

“I’m helping,” Ilya couldn’t resist pointing out.

“I know you are.” Yuna patted his cheek. “That’s why you’re my favorite son.”

Ilya grinned at Shane, who tried to look annoyed but mostly failed because his eyes had gone soft.

Later, they sat around the table and toasted their successful first day of camp with glasses of water.

They ate their healthy, Shane-approved dinner and talked about hockey, and the charity, and decor ideas for Shane’s house, and plans for the rest of the summer.

It felt, as it always did to Ilya, wonderful and surreal at the same time.

He’d never expected to have this domestic comfort in his life.

Not with anyone. He’d never expected to be part of a family, and have parents again.

He would do absolutely everything to protect this, and he was constantly terrified that, when it came to it, he wouldn’t be able to. Because the day would come.

Shane offered to clean up after dinner to make up for slacking off during the preparation. Yuna insisted on helping, which probably meant she wanted to talk to Shane, so Ilya headed outside to the back deck.

He leaned on the railing and stared up at the sky where the stars were barely visible from all of the city lights. Nothing like at Shane’s cottage.

“I think you’d like what we did today.” Ilya spoke quietly, in Russian, to the sky. “I hope you are proud.”

He only ever spoke to one of his parents, though both were dead now.

His mother’s death had been sudden and devastating.

His father had faded away gradually from Alzheimer’s, and Ilya still hadn’t sorted out his feelings about losing the man who’d never had a nice word to say to him. Or to Ilya’s wonderful mother.

Ilya’s friend Harris, back in Ottawa, swore there was a ghost living in his parents’ house. A great-uncle or something. Ilya didn’t think he believed in ghosts, but he clung to the idea that his mother’s spirit was with him, somehow. He needed her to be.

“Hey,” Shane said in a hushed voice behind him. “Mom’s gone to bed.”

Ilya turned to face him. He’d changed, when they’d gotten home, into sweat shorts and a Voyageurs T-shirt. His feet were bare and his shaggy hair was rumpled. Ilya immediately opened his arms and Shane practically fell into them, resting his forehead on Ilya’s shoulder and exhaling loudly.

“I’m exhausted,” Shane said. “Let’s go to bed, okay?”

“Sure.”

But Shane didn’t move. He wrapped his strong arms around Ilya’s waist and held him, breathing slowly against Ilya’s neck.

Ilya rocked them a bit, gently, from side to side, and enjoyed the quiet.

He closed his eyes and focused on how good it felt to be with Shane, alone in the dark, and tried not to wish it could be the same in the light.