Heated Rivalry (Game Changers, #2)

by Rachel Reid

For the rest of his life, Shane Hollander would have to live with the fact that he had ended his NHL draft day by getting himself off to thoughts of Ilya Rozanov.

The truth—the truth that he tried so very hard to ignore—was that no one set him on fire like Shane Hollander. All of these women...they were gorgeous. Fun. Very sexy. But he didn’t think about them after they were gone. He didn’t long for them. With them, he could be sated.

He’d also had no interest in seeing Shane Hollander with his hands all over Rose fucking Landry in a nightclub, but fate seemed determined to rub Hollander in his face. A fucking nightclub! If he couldn’t be safe from Hollander there, then where? Ilya wondered if Rose Landry would be joining Shane in Florida for the All-Star Game. He wondered if Rose Landry would be accompanying Shane to everything from now on. Maybe they would get married. For the first time ever, Ilya was not looking forward to the All-Star Game.

Ilya didn’t miss the past tense of what Shane was saying about going out with Rose, even with his imperfect English. “Are you and her not...” Shane shook his head. “We’re not. No. It was just a short thing. She’s great. We just weren’t, um...compatible.” He looked seriously at Ilya then. Ilya wanted to kiss him. “Anyway,” Shane said, gesturing toward the room with his beer bottle, “I should say hi to everyone.” He stepped away from the bar. “Right.” Ilya put his hand over his mouth to hide his ridiculous smile.

That admission would have been embarrassing enough, but Ilya had also slipped in an “and on top of everything, I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you and I don’t know what to do about it.”

“I am not alone,” Ilya said. “You are here now, yes?” Shane’s hand flew to his chest to make sure his heart was still beating; he could have sworn it had just melted into a gooey puddle.

“You are very beautiful,” Ilya said. Shane smiled without opening his eyes. “Come on.” “Is the truth. Your freckles.” Ilya grazed a fingertip over his own cheek. “I am nuts about them.” “I have no idea why. I hate them.” “Noooo...” Ilya moaned. “Hollander. They are stunning.” “Stunning?” “Yes. Am I not using that word right? Very beautiful. Um...take my breath?” “Wow. All right.” The skin under Shane’s freckles turned very, very pink. “The first time I met you. Those freckles...” “The first time? You mean at the World Juniors? In Saskatchewan?” “Yes.” Shane huffed out a surprised laugh. “You were such a dick to me.” “Mm. I did not like you. Just your freckles.”

“I’m fucked,” he murmured in Russian. “I am so fucking in love and it’s horrible.”

Shane kissed the tips of two fingers and reached out and touched them to the screen. And Ilya’s heart fucking stopped. “Good night, Ilya.”

“Hollander?” A different voice. “Ilya?” Did I say that? Shane heard his own voice, but had he moved his lips? He blinked, trying to get his eyes to focus. “Is he all right?” That was Ilya’s voice for sure. It sounded different, though. It was...unsteady. Panicked. “Mmokay,” Shane murmured. He had no idea if it was true, but he didn’t want to hear the worry in Ilya’s voice anymore. “We’re going to move you onto the spinal board, Shane. Keep your head still, please.” Spinal board? “Ilya, please stand back,” the authoritative voice said. And the dark blur that had been looming over Shane disappeared. “We’re not alone,” Shane slurred. “Ilya. They can see us.” He felt hands on his arms and legs. He felt straps securing him to a board. “Is he all right?” Ilya’s voice again. No one answered him. “Tell him,” Shane said. “Tell him I’m fine.” He wanted to turn his head to look at Ilya, but he couldn’t now.

Fucking Marlow. He knew Cliff felt bad. He hadn’t mean to hit Shane so hard, or at such an awkward angle. But Ilya still wanted to kill him.

Shane was so completely in love with him. He would hit his head all over again just to be alone in that quiet hospital room with those careful fingers and those concerned eyes.

Ilya couldn’t believe what he had been reduced to. He was...infatuated. It was disgusting.

Ilya wanted to always make him happy.

He breathed the last words against Ilya’s lips and then kissed him. It was slow and wonderful. “I want to sleep in your bed, Shane Hollander,” Ilya murmured. “I want to do lots of things in my bed.” “Show me. Take me to bed.”

“Mine.” Ilya’s breath tickled Shane’s skin when he spoke the single word. “Yours,” Shane said dreamily. “All of this. For two weeks. Is mine.” Forever, Shane wanted to say. Forever if you ask.

And now they were eating burgers that Shane had totally aced, and drinking beer on the deck as the sun set, and it was everything he had ever wanted. He imagined a life of spending summers together at the cottage. It was his intention to make this his permanent home after he retired. He wondered if Ilya would be into living here when— What the hell, Hollander? Getting a little ahead of yourself, aren’t you? But these were the thoughts that consumed him these days: Ilya meeting his parents, Ilya spending the summers with him, Ilya making a home with him.

A fucking wolf. That was a fucking wolf howl. “What the fuck was that?” Ilya said. He couldn’t conceal the terror in his voice. But who the fuck cared, because they were surrounded by hungry wolves! Shane laughed. “It’s a loon.” “A what?” “A loon!” Shane was really laughing now. “It’s a bird. Like a duck, kind of. Oh my god, you thought it was a wolf!” “What the fuck bird makes a noise like that?” “A loon!” Shane said again. Then he doubled over in hysterics. Ilya wanted to push him into the fire. “Fuck you and your loon!” Ilya said. “Stupid Canadian wolf bird.” Shane looked up at him, still laughing. His whole face was crinkled up: eyes, nose, freckles. Ilya wanted to grab embers from the fire and smash them into his own eyes because he could not bear to look at this adorable, crinkled, happy face. “Look,” Shane said. He made a tunnel out of his hands, brought them to his mouth and... Made the wolf bird noise. No human should be able to make that noise. “You speak bird now too?” Ilya asked flatly. Shane cracked up again, and shoved him. Ilya fought like hell not to, but he started laughing too. “I speak fluent bird. No accent!” Shane gasped. “I fucking hate you.” Shane leaned against him. “No you don’t.” Ilya sighed. No. He didn’t.

“I love you.” Shane froze. And then Ilya froze. “Holy shit,” Shane whispered. It wasn’t how he had meant to respond. “I...” Ilya’s eyes were so wide and so scared. “I love you too,” Shane said. Ilya gave a shaky smile and exhaled. “Thank Christ.” “Does it...does it feel like agony for you too?” Ilya started to nod, then stopped. He shook his head slowly instead. “Not anymore.”