The Long Game (Game Changers, #6)

by Rachel Reid

Shane nudged him in the ribs with the butt end of his stick. “I’m a great captain.” “I know, sweetheart.”

Ilya seemed to consider the question before answering. “We are very good at pretending to not be in love. Maybe we are bad at showing it when we are allowed.”

Sometimes Ilya was so starved for touch he felt like screaming. He felt it most when Shane was close, like he was now, but off-limits.

Kiss me, Ilya wanted to say. Kiss me and hold me in front of all these people. Pull me onstage and do it. I don’t care anymore. Please. I’m dying. “Nothing,” Ilya said, and stepped away. “Nothing.”

“I love you,” Ilya said between the deep breaths he was taking in an attempt to cool his blood. Shane slipped out from between Ilya and the wall and squeezed his arm. “Love you too.” Shane exhaled, and Ilya politely ignored the tremor in it. “Okay. Three weeks.” “Three weeks. Text me when you get home.” “Of course.” Shane kissed him one more time, and then he was gone.

“I love you.” Ilya’s expression turned serious, and for a moment Shane’s stomach clenched as if he expected Ilya to tell him something awful. But all Ilya said was, “I love you so much, Shane.”

“When you watch it, this is what you will see. Me saying nothing. I wanted to say you are fucking everything to me. Everything. Okay?” Shane swallowed hard. “Oh.”

Shane laughed, glad to be rid of some of the tension that had built inside him. Then, quietly, he said, “You’re everything to me too.” Ilya held his gaze for a long moment, and Shane thought his eyes looked a bit sad. Then Ilya said, “Of course.”

Quietly, in a voice that couldn’t disguise his pain, he said, “I already chose you, Hollander.”

You are the best thing in my life. His eyes were blurry, making it hard to type. He quickly swiped at his eyes and kept writing. I love you. Always. Maybe from the first time I saw you.

am thinking only about you right now. A million memories. Thank you for those. Whatever happens, I am with you. Safe in your heart. I believe it.

He could tell right away that Shane had been crying. “Oh,” Ilya said softly. “Sweetheart. I am so sorry.” They didn’t use pet names very often, beyond the nonsensical Russian nouns Ilya liked to throw at Shane, but Ilya said this one with his whole heart.

“Shane,” Ilya said again, unable to stop himself. “I choose you, Ilya. I promise I will always, always choose you.” Shane’s eyes began to shimmer. He took a deep breath and said, “Ilya Grigoryevich Rozanov, will you marry me?”

Shane Hollander was going to be his husband.

“Yours,” Ilya said. “Mine.” Shane crashed into him again, kissing him hungrily.

“Oh,” Shane said, halfway through the song. “I’ve heard this before.” Ilya laughed. “I love you so much it sucks.” Shane beamed at him. “That’s too bad, because this is as good as it’s going to get.” “No,” Ilya said fondly. “I don’t think it is.”

“Time to finally get one of those banners, I think,” Bood said over the cheering and the pounding music. “For real this time.” They absolutely would. Ilya had never been so sure of anything. “Let’s fucking get it.”