Heated Rivalry (Game Changers, #2)

by Rachel Reid

Mostly he had just been ranting about his family, but he had included an admission that he wished things could have been different with his father. That he had stupidly always hoped that his father might tell him that he was proud of him. 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.”

And then... Shane kissed the tips of two fingers and reached out and touched them to the screen. And Ilya’s heart fucking stopped

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.

“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.” Fuck. Shane was going start crying right here in his games room. He swallowed and steadied himself. “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...like I said. We’re two hours away from each other. All year.” He wanted Ilya to see this vision as clearly as he could. It seemed tantalizingly possible. Easy, even. “And you’d be in Canada. And you could apply for citizenship eventually.” “Yes. I understand that part.” “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.” 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.”

“And when I retire,” Ilya said, “after I have won twelve Stanley Cups and thirteen MVP awards—” “The hell you will.” “And you have been retired for, like, eight years already because you got very bad at hockey...” Shane laughed. “Okay.” “Then I will bring you to that dock out there. I will have hundreds of candles all over it...” “That sounds like a fire hazard.” “Is on the water, Hollander. Fucking relax. Will be beautiful, you will love it. The candles. The lake. The full moon.” “Oh, is it a clear night?” “Yes. Of course. And I will get on one knee—” “Ilya—” “And I will say, ‘Shane Hollander, will you please marry me so I can become Canadian citizen faster?’” Shane burst out laughing, and shoved him. “You’re such an asshole.” “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.”