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“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.”
“Shane,” he said, “I love that idea.” “Yeah?” Shane smiled. “Yes. It’s very...” Fuck. What was the right word? Was there a right word for everything Ilya was feeling in that moment? He couldn’t think of one, so instead he said, “She would have loved you.” “I wish I could have met her.” “Yes. Me too.” Shane yawned and snuggled against Ilya’s chest. “Sorry. I’m exhausted.” “My fault, I suppose.” “Absolutely your fault. But I forgive you,” Shane said with another yawn. “Good night, Hollander.” “I love you.” “I love you too.” “Mm. Can you say it in Russian again?” Ilya pulled Shane’s hand to his
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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.
“You like this, Hollander?” “Yes. Yeah I... I’ve wanted this for so long.” “Wanted what? Tell me.” “You. Here. Outside like this.” Ilya sucked in a breath. “What do you want me to do to you?” “Anything. I don’t know. Everything.”
“Is it okay if I tell you I love you again?” Ilya asked. His crooked smile was adorably shy. Shane smiled back. Hell, he probably beamed back. “It’s okay.” Instead of saying the words, Ilya kissed him. It was slow and deliberate, his tongue pressing against Shane’s own, his fingers resting delicately on Shane’s waist. Shane felt like his legs might give out on him.
“But...you hate him,” Mom said. “No, I... I don’t. I mean. Sometimes I do, kinda. But mostly I...love him. Actually.”
“I just don’t understand,” his mother said. “How could this have even happened between you? Weren’t there any nice men in Montreal, Shane?”
“All this time,” Dad said quietly, almost to himself. “You’ve been holding this secret inside. The whole time.” “You didn’t ever...” His mom sounded suddenly horrified. “You didn’t ever let him win, did you, Shane?” “God, Mom! No!” Ilya laughed. “He does not need to let me win.” “I would never,” Shane said quickly. “The team comes first. Always. And besides, I like beating him.”
“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.”
“I will say that, what Scott did, when he, um, kissed his boyfriend?” Shane couldn’t believe he was saying this. He hadn’t even told Ilya this. “That changed something inside me. It was...huge. It made me...want to try. Made me want to be braver, and to let myself try to be happy.” He looked at the floor until he couldn’t bear it anymore, and then he glanced over at Ilya. Ilya’s eyes were softer than he’d ever seen them. “Yes,” Ilya said. “Me too.”
“You would leave Boston?” Mom asked, stunned. “For Shane?” Ilya didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
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.”
He wanted to tell Shane that the closest he felt to home was when he was with him. It didn’t matter if it was in a hotel room, or Ilya’s apartment, or at that weird hideout building Shane bought in Montreal, or here at Shane’s cottage; he was himself when he was with Shane. He’d left Russia, he was uneasy in America, and he’d spent his entire adult life drifting between continents and between lovers. But now he had been reeled in by this annoying Canadian, and all that he knew was that he wanted to stay. He wanted to anchor himself to Shane and just...stay.
“I love you,” he murmured, because he could say that. After so fucking long he could finally say that. Shane tilted his head up and studied Ilya’s face with questioning eyes. “I love you too,” he said. “Are you all right?” Ilya nodded, and leaned in to kiss him. It was exactly how Ilya had secretly always wanted to kiss Shane: a shameless display of adoration and care. Their tongues slowly caressing as Ilya held Shane’s face in his hands and brushed his hair with his fingertips.
“Ilya. God, Ilya. So good. Don’t stop. I love you.” In response, Ilya reached for his hand and tangled their fingers together. I love you so much. Don’t leave me.
“Wow,” he said. “We’re really going to do this, aren’t we?” The statement was vague, but Ilya understood. “Yes. If you want to try this, I will do what I need to do.” “I will too. Anything. I want this. I want us.” Ilya brushed Shane’s hair out of his eyes. “Then I am moving to Ottawa, I think.” “And we’re starting a charity.” “And we will become friends.” “And we’ll see each other all the time. As much as possible. And spend the summers together. Here.” “Yes.” They kissed again. Ilya couldn’t believe they had solved this impossible problem. Maybe it wouldn’t go as smoothly as they imagined,
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“And you will say yes, because you are a nice, helpful guy.” “No,” Shane said, taking his hands. “I will say yes because I will still be madly in love with you. And I’ll want to spend the rest of my life with you.” And, oh god, Ilya didn’t deserve him, but he didn’t care. He was selfish like that.
“I mean it,” Shane said softly. “I want to have a life with you. I know it will be awkward, and will still involve a lot of sneaking around for a while, but I’m playing the long game here. So, yeah. Whatever it takes, I’m in.”
“Does this mean I get to see your apartment in Montreal? Your real one?” “You can even keep a toothbrush there. I’m going to sell that other place. I was being paranoid when I bought it. I’m sorry.” Ilya grinned. “Buying an entire building because you are nervous is very you.” Shane shook his head. “I really am sorry. I just wanted to protect what we had. I should have invited you to my real apartment sooner. I want you there. I want you in my life. All of it.”
“I want to tell everyone,” Ilya said. “Right now.” Shane’s eyes went wide with panic. “No! Don’t. We have to stick to the plan.” Ilya sighed dramatically. “You and your plans. What if I just kissed you on the mouth at the next All-Star Game?” “I’ll punch you. I swear to god.”
“What if we just told our friends?” Shane suggested. “My family already knows. We could just...feel our way with the rest.” “Mm,” Ilya said. “And what would your best friend Hayden Pike say?” “He would probably think I was kidding.”
“For two weeks?” Ilya shrugged. “I could maybe extend my stay.” Shane plunked the vodka bottle on the kitchen counter. “You can?” “A little. Yes. If you will have me.” “I do have some other hot Russians coming to stay with me in a couple of weeks...” Ilya gasped. “Shane Hollander! You have not ever told me that I am hot before.” Shane frowned. “I haven’t?” “No. I would remember.” “Well, I mean...obviously you’re hot. Like, I-can’t-believe-I-get-to-kiss-you hot.”
“I want to tell you, before we do this, that I am...very happy today. My mother would have really liked this. And I think she is with me today. And proud.” Oh, oops. Now Shane’s eyes were glistening. “She has so many reasons to be proud of you, Ilya.” Ilya smiled at him. “I need to kiss you here, or else I will do it out there.”
“I love you,” Ilya said. “I love you too.” Ilya nodded. “Remember that when I am being a dick to you out there.” Shane grinned and kissed him again. “Don’t worry, I’m used to it.”
Last season had been agony. Ilya had still been playing for Boston, and knowing that Shane was in love with him had made keeping their secret so much harder. Before they’d admitted their feelings to one another, Ilya had always enjoyed the sneaking around. He’d liked Shane Hollander being his sexy secret. But the past fifteen months hadn’t been much fun at all.
“Do you know how scared I’ve been this whole time? Do you know how fucking terrifying it is to feel attracted to your archrival when you are eighteen and your rival also happens to be a man?”
“I hate how we have to hide. I hate only getting these stolen moments with you. It’s been so many fucking years of this, and I’m tired.”
“Do you know what I was thinking all night?” Ilya asked gently. “When I was being a dick?” Shane’s shoulders tightened. “What?” “I was thinking,” Ilya moved closer, lining his body up with Shane’s. Letting his chest brush against Shane’s back. “About how much I loved this. Being at home with you. Even having friends over. Being a couple.”
Ilya placed a hand on the side of Shane’s face, brushing a thumb over his freckles. “Maybe I don’t think about how it is unfair because...” He paused a moment, trying to choose his English words carefully. “I feel lucky. This is more than I have ever had.”
“Why are you like this?” Shane moaned into Ilya’s shirt. “Can’t you let me be annoyed with you? Do you have to ruin it by saying romantic shit like that?” “Romantic? I thought it was more pathetic.” Shane shook his head against Ilya’s chest, and Ilya wrapped his arms around him. “I love you,” Shane murmured.
This was the man that Ilya loved. Right here. Sexy and challenging and unabashedly on fire for Ilya.
“Whatever happens, I’m...” Ilya huffed in frustration, English escaping him again. “What?” Shane’s eyes were wide. Ilya loosened his grip on his arms, sliding his hands down to grasp Shane’s hands instead. “I will tell the whole world right now, if it is what you want.” Shane’s brow pinched. “You would?” “Yes.”
Ilya Rozanov and his boyfriend, Shane Hollander. Ilya liked the sound of it. The idea of hockey commentators saying those words. Ilya Rozanov and his husband, Shane Hollander. Oooh. Better. Hollander passes the puck to his sexy husband, Ilya Rozanov... Okay. Maybe Ilya had gone a little heavy on the wine himself tonight.
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Ilya smiled. He still fondly remembered the first time Shane had sucked him—had sucked anyone—back when they’d been nineteen and Shane had been terrified of his own desires. He’d been so unsure of what to do, but so determined to do it well. The truth was that Ilya had probably been as terrified as Shane, back then. He’d just been better at hiding it.
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