Heated Rivalry (Game Changers, #2)

by Rachel Reid

“I think I’m gay,” Shane blurted out.

“The last time my dick was in your mouth, I thought you might be a little gay,” Ilya teased. “Fuck off. You’re not gay.”

“No,” Ilya said, serious again. “Not completely.” “Well... I think I might be. Completely.”

“Okay. So you are gay. So what?” “Well, it’s sort of a big deal! To me, at least. ...

“It’s you. You and me. Being gay is one thing. Hooking up with your arch fucking rival is another.”

“I can’t keep pretending I don’t like you,” he said finally. “You don’t like me,” Ilya argued. “I do. I... I maybe like you too much.”

“Don’t fucking do this, Hollander. I’m not...”

“Worth it?” Ilya glared at him. “Gay. I’m not gay. And I can’t be...anyth...

“Well, you’re doing a shitty job of that!” “Not in public. I can’t... I would not be able to go home.” “Your family?” “Russ...

“When will I have you for as long as I want?”

“I don’t know. As soon as possible?”

“Yes.” Ilya leaned in and kissed him. “After I win the Stanley Cup this year, ...

Why was he so hungry for Shane that he had broken their sacred rule? God, he was good with his mouth.

“I wish you were here now.”

He felt his mortification melt away when Ilya said, in a low voice, “Me too.”

“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.”

But as soon as he let himself acknowledge it, and now say it, he felt relieved. Not because he could do anything about these feelings, but at least he had allowed himself to accept them. And he had, in the most cowardly way possible, said them aloud to Shane.

“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.

“It’s private. Good security. Hey, I made a donation to the Alzheimer’s Society of Canada. For your father.”

“We should get married,” Ilya said. “What?” Shane flushed right down to his toes. “Not to each other,” Ilya said. Then he started laughing and couldn’t stop. “I knew you didn’t mean to each other,” Shane lied.

“I can marry an American girl. You should get married, Hollander. You want children, yes?” “I’ve already told you... I don’t want to marry...anyone.”

“You should come to the cottage this summer.”

“I will think about it,” Ilya said finally. “Okay.” “I am tired.” “Yeah, I can tell. Get some sleep, all right?”

He’s never going to be your boyfriend, Shane. Oh god. That was what Shane wanted, wasn’t it? He didn’t just want to be Ilya’s dirty secret. He didn’t want their relationship to be nothing but sex.

“You are very beautiful,” Ilya said.

“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.”

“That crooked fucking smile of yours. I can’t even tell you...that smile haunts me.”

“It is. And your eyes. I love your eyes.” “So romantic, Hollander.” “Fuck you. You asked for compliments.

“Do you ever think of me?” Shane asked. “When you’re doing this? Alone?” He blushed furiously as soon as he said it. Cute as hell. “Yes.” “I do too. A lot. All the time. Maybe...every time, honestly.” Ilya raised an eyebrow. “Every time?”

“I’ve never...had anything. Like this. With anyone else.”

“No. He just wasn’t...” Ilya needed to hear it. “Wasn’t what?” Shane clenched his eyes shut and said, “You. He wasn’t you.”

Ilya damn near lost it. Shane was going to ruin him, saying things like that. “Was he the only one?”

Ilya groaned. Fuck. “I wanted to pin you to the floor,” he confessed. “I could not stop staring at your mouth. I thought you would notice.” “I didn’t. I was too busy trying to stop myself from straddling you. Kissing you.” “Fuck, Shane.” “I couldn’t believe how much I wanted to. It terrified me. I had never...”

“Never wanted a man?” Ilya huffed. “No. At least, I didn’t think I did. But you...god, Ilya. I went right back to my room and jerked off thinking about you.”

“Me too.”

“I can’t wait to touch you again,”

“Ah, fuck. Dammit. I’m so close,” Shane gasped.

“Oh fuck,” Shane said quietly. “I’m coming.”

“Holy fuck,” Shane panted. “That was huge. I’m a mess over here.”

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

He was never supposed to have fallen in love with Shane Hollander. He should have ended it long before because now it was going to hurt so fucking much.

Ilya loved playing against Hollander almost as much as he loved fucking him.

“We’re not alone,” Shane slurred. “Ilya. They can see us.”

“You scared me,” Ilya admitted. “Scared myself.” “But you will be okay?” “Yeah, I’ll be okay. I wanted to tell you last night. I wish I could have texted you. I was—” “Shhh.”

“I had been looking forward to last night,” Shane murmured. “Yes.” “I’m mostly mad at Marlow for fucking that up.”

“When will we get a chance again?” Shane asked. And, so help him, in that moment Ilya wanted to tell him he would stay with him. That he would move into his apartment and help him with his recovery and make him sandwiches and watch the playoffs with him and read him his boring hockey book.

He quickly left the hospital room of the man he loved, and forced himself to focus on winning the Stanley Cup.

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. He was in love with him and he could never, ever tell him that.

And Shane chickened out. Because he couldn’t tell them that the right one had come along, and it was the pissed-off Russian man who was currently heading to the penalty box on their television.

He had the most ridiculous urge to send Ilya a text that just said I love you. He had those words trapped inside of him, filling every part of him, and, the strain of