The Long Game (Game Changers, #6)

by Rachel Reid

“She probably knows already.” The panic alarm that lived inside Shane started blaring. “Why would she?” “We are together at your cottage. You are gay. I am hot.”

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.

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.

“Do you think we looked like that to them?” “What, sexy? I probably did.” “No, like...in love?” 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.

“What?” he asked. 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.”

“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?”

“I love you so fucking much,” Shane said. He smoothed a thumb over one of Ilya’s thick eyebrows. “I was counting the minutes all week. Couldn’t wait to see you again.”

His rock-hard cock was pointing directly at its own reflection. Ilya stood behind him and

“Why do you have sexy mood lighting in your gym?” “You have it in yours.” “Yeah. For yoga and meditation. Two things you don’t do.” “But you do them. So I have lights that dim. For you.”

Shane realized that most of Ilya’s posts were, in weird cryptic ways, about Shane. His entire account was like a secret diary of their relationship, full of inside jokes and little references that only Shane would understand. And Shane hadn’t even bothered to look at it before. Not really. He looked now. He scrolled until his eyes were so blurry he had to give up and sob into his hands instead. How could Shane have doubted for a second how fiercely Ilya loved him?

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.

He let his mind take him away from the nightmare happening around him and back to a rink parking lot in Saskatchewan. Ilya couldn’t remember what Shane had said, exactly, that first time they’d met. He only remembered freckles splashed over rosy red cheeks. He remembered Shane’s hand being unfairly warm when he shook it. He remembered being studied by dark, earnest eyes. It was entirely possible that Ilya had lost his heart in that moment. It took his brain a long time to catch up, but his heart had known right away.

I 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.

“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?”

“I love you so much,” Shane said softly. Ilya swallowed. “I will be very proud to be your husband.”

“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.

“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.”

It seemed impossible that anything in Ilya’s life was real; that he was about to marry Shane Hollander. In front of people. That they would be teammates next season. That Ilya was about to officially become a part of Shane’s family, and that he and Shane might start their own someday. It was too staggering to think about, so instead he hugged Shane’s father and tried not to cry.

Ilya was only focused on Shane. He looked so handsome and so happy. It was hard to believe this was the same person Ilya had tried to ignore in a Saskatchewan arena parking lot thirteen years ago. Except the freckles were the same. The dark, intelligent eyes and long black lashes. The adorable little nose, and the soft, enticing lips. Those were all the same. The way Ilya’s heart went fucking bananas when he looked at him was the same.

“You should sign with Ottawa. Your contract is probably cheap, yes?” Hayden shook his head. “You’re a hard guy to like, Rozanov.” “That is not what Shane thinks.”

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.”