The Long Game (Game Changers, #6)

by Rachel Reid

“Who’s is this?” Shane asked, eying the dog warily. He wasn’t great with animals. “You dog-sitting for someone?” “No,” Ilya said, then bent to scoop the dog up in his arms. He cuddled her close to his chest, and the dog licked his cheek lovingly. “This is Anya. She is my dog.” “You—what? How?” “Someone abandoned her. In the cold. Monsters,” Ilya growled. Then he kissed the top of Anya’s head. “She needed a home. I needed a dog.”

Shane smiled at the little red boots Ilya put on Anya’s feet. “Is to protect from the salt,” Ilya explained. “And keeps her little paws warm. At the spa they said she does not need a sweater because her hair is long. Too bad because there was a sweater that looked like a strawberry and was so cute.” “They didn’t have one in your size?” Shane teased.

“God, this sucks.” “Yes, but it is not so different,” Ilya said calmly. “We were going to tell people ourselves, but now we do not have to.” “Because they saw us kissing on the internet.” “At least they know we are great at kissing.” “It was a pretty top-tier kiss,” Hayden agreed.

“There we are,” Ilya said. He was quiet a moment and then said, “Oh yes. This would be hard to deny.” He huffed. “We are really going for it.” “This is a fucking nightmare,” Shane said faintly. The couch began to shake, and Shane realized that Ilya was laughing. “It’s not funny.” “Is very funny!” Ilya squeaked out. “Hayden’s stupid FanMail video. Oh my god. This was somebody’s birthday greeting. Someone named Brad.” “Sorry, Brad,” Shane mumbled. That made Ilya absolutely lose it.

“I’m sorry,” Ilya said, not really meaning it. He wasn’t sorry he’d fallen in love with Shane. Wasn’t even sorry he’d made the mistake of kissing him when he’d thought no one could see.

Ilya’s lips curved up. “This team is very gay.” Wiebe laughed. “Technically, I’m bisexual. To be clear, I love my wife. I’m not hiding anything.” Ilya’s smile grew. “Bisexual! Great. Yes, me too.” “I figured, what with your long and impressive history with the ladies.” “That is over. It has been only Shane for a long time.”

Shane’s eyes prickled with tears. He’d expected this, but he’d also...hoped for better from this group of guys that he loved so much. “Hey,” said Hayden, standing up. “I know that everyone is fucking weirded out right now, but try to remember who the fuck this is. Shane is our fucking captain. Our leader.” “He’s a fucking liar,” J.J. said. “He’s our fucking friend,” Hayden said sharply. “So maybe everyone feels weird right now or, like, totally grossed out. I get it. It’s Rozanov.” “Okay, thanks, Hayden,” Shane said. “But that weirdness goes away, and then you’re going to have to live with how shitty you were to Shane when he needed his fucking boys the most. So think about that.”

Nice. Better than what he would have written himself, which probably would have been along the lines of, We’re in love and fuck you.

Ilya passed his neighbors’ house—the one where Willa and Andrew lived—and stopped dead in his tracks. There was a large hand-drawn sign attached to the tree near the end of their driveway: We love you, Ilya! Underneath the sign was a little shelf that held two Funko Pop figures: one of Ilya, and one of Shane. Ilya fumbled for the phone he was glad he’d decided to shove in his coat pocket before leaving. He turned it on, took a photo, and sent it to Shane. Shane: Oh wow. Is that your neighbors’ house? Ilya: Yes. We are not so alone, I think.

“The hell?” Shane said when he realized Ilya had led him to his trophy room. Ilya just smiled at him. “No way,” Shane said. “Weird.” “Is it?” Ilya asked, trailing a finger along Shane’s jaw. “I thought you need a reminder, before our meeting tomorrow.” “Reminder of what?” Shane said faintly as he tipped his head to the side and closed his eyes. Ilya kissed just under his jaw, then in front of his ear. “Of who the fuck you are.”

Ilya loved it when Shane got like this, when he was flying too high to be annoyed or embarrassed. “Do you want to know a secret?” He bent over Shane so he could speak directly in his ear. “I feel like I am fucking a king right now.” “Ilya—” He grabbed a handful of Shane’s hair and tugged his head back. “Do you know how powerful this feels, fucking a king in his throne room?” “Fu—fucking hell, Rozanov.”

“You are Shane fucking Hollander,” Ilya growled. “If you ever forget that, I will drag you back in here and fuck you until you remember.” “We—we’ll share a trophy room someday,” Shane stammered. Ilya smiled. “Yes. A fucking empire.” Shane tilted his head back against Ilya’s shoulder. “A dynasty,” he breathed. “Oh, fuck, Ilya. I love you.”

“I’m your friend. And your teammate. And I fell in love with the most complicated person I could possibly fall in love with.” “Ilya fucking Rozanov.” J.J. shook his head. “Jesus, Shane. Why?” “Because...” Shane didn’t even know where to start. Finally he just said, “He makes me happy. I know it doesn’t make sense, but he’s it for me. We’re getting married.”

As Ilya was pulling on his sweatshirt, Wyatt approached him. “Is that what the ring’s about, then?” He pointed at Ilya’s chest. “You noticed?” “I’m a goalie.” Wyatt pointed to his own eyes. “I notice everything.” “You are perceptive,” Ilya said, trying out a word he’d recently learned. “It’s my superpower. I didn’t want to ask, but now it seems kind of obvious that it’s from Hollander.” “It is. We are engaged.” Ilya was still getting used to saying those words aloud. To believing them. “Then Shane Hollander is a lucky man.”

They both bent at the waist over the face-off spot, and for a moment, their gazes locked. “Good luck,” Shane said. It was all he dared to say right now, with everyone watching. Ilya’s lips quirked up in his usual crooked, cocky smile, and then the puck dropped. Ilya won the face-off.

As they bent for the face-off at the beginning of the third, Ilya noticed a glint of gold, on Shane’s neck. “You have a chain now?” Ilya asked quietly. “Yeah,” Shane said. “And a ring.” Ilya smiled, and totally lost the face-off.

Shane didn’t know what to do. He wanted to wrap his arms around Ilya and breathe him in. Tell him he was proud of him. He was also so angry he could barely look at Ilya’s gleeful face right now. Except Ilya didn’t look gleeful; he looked concerned, and maybe just as unsure of what to do as Shane was.

He was silent a moment. “Is there room for me on that roster, though?” “We need depth at center. And having both Ilya Rozanov and Shane Hollander would be very deep.”

All three Hollanders had been in the audience for that one, which had been exciting for Ilya. He’d never had so many people he loved at one of his games before.

“Hunter. You are at my house.” Scott looked a little bewildered, as if he hadn’t realized this would be Ilya’s house or something. His perfect fucking face glanced around like he’d been dropped there by aliens. “Yeah, I um. I got the address from Wyatt. He had to make sure my intentions were noble first.”

Scott sat in an armchair, perched on the edge of the cushion. “I know it’s awkward because we’re in the middle of a playoff series, but I wanted to talk to you guys about...you know.” He waved a hand between Ilya and Shane. “Uh-oh,” Ilya said. “Are we getting a lecture from Dad?” Scott looked at Shane. “Is it possible for him to not be an asshole for five seconds?” “No,” Shane said.

Ilya laughed, then stood and extended his hand to Scott. “You are a good guy, Hunter.” When Scott took his hand, Ilya pulled Scott to his feet and, without really thinking about it, wrapped him in a hug. Scott let out a surprised-sounding “Oh,” when his enormous body collided with Ilya’s. “Well,” Shane said. “There’s something I never thought I’d see.”

“No,” Shane said firmly when Anya jumped on the bed. He pointed to her dog bed in the corner. “She kept trying to sleep with me. I think she hates me because I won’t let her.” “Is good, probably,” Ilya sighed. “I am too soft with her.” Shane rested a hand on Ilya’s cheek. “You’re soft with everyone you love.” Ilya’s lips curved up. “Don’t tell anyone.”

“I hate that you feel like that sometimes, Ilya,” Shane said softly. “I hate that you have to fight yourself. But you’re never going to scare me off, okay? And I’m never giving up on you, or on us. So whatever you need, I’m right here.” “What if there is nothing you can do?” Ilya asked in a small, scared voice. “What if you can’t help?”

“Can I take you to bed now, then? And you wear only that jersey?” Shane leaned in and kissed him. “Is this a hazing thing?” “Yes. I do it to everyone.” “Shut up.” “Troy was incredible.” Shane shoved him with both hands. “You’re the worst. Come ravage me.” Ilya grinned and chased him up the stairs.

“What I’m trying to say, and Yuna’s always been the better speaker, is I’ve always felt so lucky to have a son as wonderful as Shane that I never expected to be blessed with a second one.” David’s hands, and Ilya’s shirt cuff, turned blurry.

“It’s not fair that you don’t have your family here on your wedding day,” David said, “and I’m not trying to overstep, but—” That was all Ilya let him get out before he engulfed David in a tight hug. “My family is here,” he said simply, and with surprising steadiness.

“Thank you for making Shane so happy. You’re good for each other.” Ilya smiled. “Yes. It is time for the world to see how good.”