The Long Game (Game Changers, #6)

by Rachel Reid

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.

“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.”

Mine, Shane thought. The world doesn’t need to know, because I know.

“There’s ice cream,” Yuna said. “If you want some.” “No, thank you,” Ilya said. Then, “What kind?”

And then, Shane winked at the camera. Winked. And Ilya knew it was meant for him. “That’s my move!” Ilya said. The blanket he’d been wrapped in fell to the floor as he stood, one hand waving at the television, the other cradling his ice cream bowl protectively to his chest. “He did my move!”

“I’ll bet half the NHL has practiced it, but no one can pull it off except you and Shane.” Well. That was nice to think about, not that Ilya would admit it.

Shane: I’ll try to win for you. Ilya huffed and wrote, Try to lose. We are in the same division, idiot.

“Shut up. It’s not a sex thing.” “Hm.” “It’s not! I like to practice discipline and self-control, and be rewarded for it. That’s all.” “That still sounds like it could be a sex thing.”

“Heart eyes. Hayden said I look at you with heart eyes.” Shane squirmed against his bedsheets. “When did he say that?” “At camp. I was staring at you and he said—” “Oh god.” Shane palmed his face. “He did not say that.” “Yes. Was probably true. I look at you and I am just...” Ilya opened and closed his fist several times in front of his chest. “My heart goes crazy, you know?” Shane’s own heart started going a little crazy. “You should see a doctor about that.” Ilya grinned and shook his head. “Is just being in love, I think.”

“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?”

love hockey, and I deserve to have the career I want for as long as I want it. I’ve earned that. But if I had to choose...I’d choose him.”

“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.”

“Oh, fuck you. Sorry I still want to win cups instead of smoking weed with my teammates between losses.”

Holy crap. Low blow, Shane.

Ilya didn’t want to fight. He was exhausted, and miserable, and his boyfriend was breaking his fucking heart. Quietly, in a voice that couldn’t disguise his pain, he said, “I already chose you, Hollander.”

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.

But the plane was on fire, and Ilya didn’t have time to think. He wrote what was in his terrified heart: 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.

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.

They had lots of reasons to keep their relationship a secret, but those reasons seemed extremely unimportant now. What if Ilya had died? What if he had fucking died? Shane would have died too. Alone, and secretly, and for the rest of his life.

choose you, Ilya. I promise I will always, always choose you.”

He was ready to politely decline, but something occurred to him. “Will Chiron be there?” Troy’s lips curved up a bit. “Yeah. And a bunch of other dogs.” Well. Ilya could probably make time for a bit of dinner.

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.

Bood smiled. “You stealing the fucking spotlight. Barrett comes out, announces his relationship with Harris, and then Roz says ‘hold my beer.’”

“Do not forget,” Ilya said seriously, “what that team owes you.”

“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.”

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.

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.”