Heated Rivalry (Game Changers, #2)

by Rachel Reid

“I went—fuck—I went to Mexico with Hayden and a couple of the other guys. A few—ah, god—years ago.

I feel like the reader should have known this??

“Was he? What you needed?” “No. I mean, sort of. But...” “Did he hurt you?” “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.”

“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.

“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 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.”

“Haven’t you ever wanted more time?”

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.

His mother looked at him sympathetically. “When the right one comes along, you’ll know,” she said. 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.

Shane: Maybe I could ask them to hire me a hot male nurse? Is that a good way to come out?

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

Two weeks. For two weeks they could pretend that their situation wasn’t impossible.

“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.

Maybe he understood what he meant. Maybe some feelings couldn’t be hidden behind foreign words.

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

Shane looked so happy. Somehow, Ilya made him happy. Ilya wanted to always make him happy.

Shane laughed. “You wanna kiss me on television?” “Yes. After I win the Stanley Cup.” Shane spread his arms out. “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!”

“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.” Shane froze. “Years?” Ilya wrapped long fingers around Shane’s jaw, and tilted his head up to meet his gaze. “Yes.” Shane swallowed.

Ilya growled and pressed his mouth harder to Shane’s skin. He sucked hard enough that, for a hysterical second, Shane wondered if he might actually be a vampire. Are there Russian vampires? No, dummy. Vampires aren’t real.

“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.

there were words that Shane was dangerously close to saying. He could feel them, thrashing around inside him, desperate to get out, but he forced them down. And then Ilya placed a palm on the side of Shane’s face and just looked at him, and for a wild second Shane thought Ilya was going to be the one to say those forbidden words.

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

“What? I want to know about your family! All I know is your mother is Japanese or something. Probably where you get your looks.” “Half of them, yes.” “And your dad is...boring? Is that where you get your boring from?”

If Shane removed all of the complications of their relationship—the rivalry, the expectations for both of them, the fact that Ilya was kind of a dick—he could just be proud of the fact that the man was really hot. Like, Shane had definitely snagged himself a ten.

“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.

Shane shook his head again, more forcefully this time. But he wasn’t, like, stopping him.

“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.” “A weak backhand?” Shane couldn’t stop smiling. “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.”

“And maybe...someday. When we both retire. We can...be together. For real.”

“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.

“Does it...does it feel like agony for you too?” Ilya started to nod, then stopped. He shook his head slowly instead. “Not anymore.”

“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.”

“You would leave Boston?” Mom asked, stunned. “For Shane?” Ilya didn’t hesitate. “Yes.” She frowned, as if she couldn’t believe anything he was saying was real. “Oh my god!” Shane exclaimed. “You’re actually conflicted, aren’t you, Mom?” “What are you talking about?” “You’re bothered by his lack of loyalty to his team!” “Well!” Mom said, as if that was a perfectly reasonable way to react to the fact that Ilya was so madly in love with her son that he was willing to throw his whole life into upheaval. Shane turned to Ilya. “My mom, by the way, cares about hockey a little too much.”

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.”

“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.

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.

It was exactly how Ilya had secretly always wanted to kiss Shane: a shameless display of adoration and care.

No more meaningless—but undeniably hot—one-night stands. No more booty calls while he was on the road. He was going to give it all up for this chance at something lasting. For the chance to hold the heart of the beautiful man who was exhaling Ilya’s name like it was the most important word in the world. Ilya had no problem giving it all up. He would give up so much more, if he needed to.

“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.”

“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—”

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.”

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.”

I was being paranoid when I bought it. I’m sorry.” Ilya grinned. “Buying an entire building because you are nervous is very you.”

I’m so fucking proud of you, Ilya. I’m...proud to be with you. I want you to know that, even if we keep it a secret, I’m proud to be with you.” “I know. Me too. When the time is right, we will stop being a secret.”

The All-Star Game was coming up, though, and he and Shane would be on the same team again. Ilya was only about sixty percent sure he wouldn’t kiss Shane against the boards if he scored a goal off of a pass from him. Ilya smiled at his reflection in the mirror and smoothed his tie. He would have to warn Shane about the possibility of being kissed at the All-Star Game, just to stress him out.