Heated Rivalry (Game Changers, #2)

by Rachel Reid

But there Hunter was, smiling at this mystery man like he was the only thing that mattered in the world. And holding his face as he leaned in to kiss him again.

“I hope so,” he said finally. “I would like to relax with you. For once.”

The moment Shane’s mouth opened under his, everything made sense. All of Ilya’s nerves left him, and he grabbed at Shane’s T-shirt and pulled him closer.

They hadn’t been together for months. The ridiculous thing was, Ilya hadn’t been with anyone in all that time. For the first time in his life, he hadn’t wanted to be with anyone else.

“Fuck,” Shane panted. “I’m...it’s been kind of a while... I might not last long.” “Yes. Same. But we have two weeks, right?” Shane laughed. “Right.” Then, “Wait...same?”

“Let’s be honest with each other. For these two weeks, let’s just...say what we’re actually thinking. Maybe...say how we really feel.” I can’t, Ilya wanted to say. I can’t because if I do you’ll think I’m pathetic, or, worse, you’ll say it back and then what the fuck are we supposed to do?

Ilya cheated and murmured, “I would stay here forever if I could” in Russian.

Shane was twisting strands of Ilya’s hair around his fingers and gently releasing them; Ilya was tracing his fingertips over Shane’s freckles. Every now and again, Ilya would kiss Shane’s jaw, or his throat, or, one time, the tip of his nose.

“It made me jealous,” he admitted. Shane laughed. “You wanna kiss me on television?” “Yes. After I win the Stanley Cup.”

“Oh, so in this romantic scenario, you’ve just defeated me?” “Yes. Sorry.” “I’m not going to be in the mood to kiss you if I’ve just lost the Stanley Cup, Rozanov.” “But you would be so proud of me!”

Ilya was leaning against a pillar in the middle of the living room, wearing that fucking crooked smile that always made Shane lose his mind.

“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.”

The kiss felt weird, and Shane realized it was because neither of them could stop smiling.

“You’re here,” he murmured. “Yes. Now take off your clothes.”

“Don’t tease me,” Ilya said. “I have waited too long for this.” “Mm.” Shane opened the front of Ilya’s shorts and playfully nipped at his chest. “Months.” “Years,” Ilya sighed. “Years I have wanted to have you in your real bed.”

“Harder,” Shane said. “I want to see it later.” Ilya growled and pressed his mouth harder to Shane’s skin.

Shane was flooded with relief and the delicious burn that pulsed from the spot where Ilya had marked him. Ilya gently licked the spot, and Shane squirmed happily.

“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.

Ilya sat up, and then flipped Shane to his stomach. He laid a light kiss between Shane’s shoulder blades.

He was almost angry that Ilya had been holding out on him all this time. But that wouldn’t be fair; Shane appreciated this for the gift it was.

“Fuck. Fuck. Ilya...holy god. That’s amazing. Thank you. Fuck.” The thank you was embarrassing, but Shane didn’t dwell on it.

“Oh, Shane. Yes. I want to hear it.” Ilya slammed into him over and over, making the headboard bang against the wall.

Shane reached a hand up to steady it, but Ilya just covered his hand with his own, bracing himself against the wall and fucking him even harder.

“I like you, Hollander.” It wasn’t an earth-shattering confession, but the words still moved Shane enormously. “I like you too, Rozanov.”

Christ. He hadn’t even been here for two days yet and already he had no idea how he was going to be able to go back to the real world.

To know that the two people he loved the most had touched the skin of Ilya Rozanov, and had looked into his eyes, even for a second, and that Shane now had concrete proof that all three of them existed in the same world.

The morning light was making everything beautiful, and Shane was in love, so he had leaned in and lightly kissed Ilya’s wrist.

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.

“Fuck you and your loon!” Ilya said. “Stupid Canadian wolf bird.”

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.

“You’re incredible. I—” Ilya held his breath.

“Yes. Listen. These women, they are so sexy and fun, but is no matter. I cannot stop thinking about this short fucking hockey player with these stupid freckles and a weak backhand.”

“Yes. And he is just so boring and he drives a terrible car and...that is my problem. All of these beautiful women and I am always wishing they were him.” Ilya bent to take his third shot. “Is terrible problem.”

“Do you want the problem to go away?” “No,” Ilya said seriously, looking Shane dead in the eye. “I do not want the problem to ever go away.” “Don’t marry Svetlana,” Shane blurted out. Ilya raised an eyebrow. “Just...don’t. I know it wouldn’t be...for love or whatever. But don’t. I couldn’t—we can figure something else out, okay?” Ilya looked surprised, but he nodded. “Okay.”

“And maybe...someday. When we both retire. We can...be together. For real.” Ilya looked stunned by that part. “You really think that far ahead, Hollander?” “I do about this.”

“You want that? To be together?” “I do. So much it terrifies me.”

But Ilya turned back and quickly rolled on top of Shane and was kissing him and kissing him and kept murmuring the same thing in Russian over and over again until he pulled back and translated: “I love you.”

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.”

Shane was beaming up at him, eyes bright and freckles crinkled, and Ilya loved him. And Shane loved him. Holy fucking shit. Shane Hollander is in love with me.

“This is real, yes?” Ilya asked. He just had to make sure. “It’s real,” Shane said. His voice was low and adorably scratchy. “I feel like... I am dreaming?” “You’re not. I love you.”

“Mm. Can you say it in Russian again?” Ilya pulled Shane’s hand to his lips and kissed his fingers. “Ya lyublyu tebya.”

Ilya loved these rare moments that Shane was able to get out of his head and just let go. He loved that he could make Shane do that. He loved Shane. God, he loved Shane.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Shane was surprised by this offer. Did he want that? Would that make things even more awkward? He certainly felt like he could use the support. “I don’t know. Would you really do that?” Ilya took his hand and squeezed. “Yes. If it helps.”

“Lovers,” Ilya offered. Fuck, way to choose the grossest possible word, Ilya.

“I have been with lots of women. That was not...fake. But...” He looked at Shane, and Shane held his breath. “I have only been in love with one person.”

And suddenly Ilya looked very blurry through Shane’s eyes. Shane swallowed down the urge to cry, and said, “Me too. Just one.”

“You would leave Boston?” Mom asked, stunned. “For Shane?” Ilya didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

“I’m just...freaking out. Don’t worry about me.” Ilya took his hands and rubbed his thumbs soothingly over the backs of them. “We are good here, yes?” he said. “Your family is here. And your boyfriend. And we are okay here.”

Shane raised his head slightly. “Boyfriend?” Such a ridiculous word. Such a ridiculous, wonderful word. Ilya shrugged and grinned. “I think, yes?” “Yes.”

“Since their rookie season,” Shane heard his mother say. “I can’t believe it.” “Looking at them now, I kind of can,” his father said.