Heated Rivalry (Game Changers #2)(69)

Shane skated the perimeter of Montreal’s half of the ice and came to a slow stop in front of Ilya. “Hi.”

Ilya glanced at him and nodded. “Hollander.”

Shane flipped his stick around so he could pretend to be inspecting the tape on his blade. “We still on for tonight? After?”

Ilya nodded again, his gaze fixed on the corner of the arena. “Same place?”

“Yeah.”

Shane could see a tightening in Ilya’s jaw. “Hey,” he said, as quietly as possible. “You all right?”

Ilya turned and met Shane’s eyes, and Shane felt a stab of longing in his heart. They were so close, but they couldn’t be more under the microscope than they were right now.

“We’ll talk later,” Shane promised.

“Yes. Later.”

Ilya skated away. Shane watched after him, and then he felt Hayden’s elbow bumping his arm. “What did Rozanov want?”

“Nothing,” Shane said, blinking and turning to face Hayden. “I was just...offering my condolences. You know.”

The news had gotten around that Rozanov’s father had died. Shane hoped the press wouldn’t ask Ilya too many questions about it.

“Oh. Yeah. That’s nice of you,” Hayden said. “I should have thought to do that. It’s just...Rozanov, y’know?”

“He’s not a bad guy,” Shane said, a little daringly. “It’s mostly an act.”

“Pretty convincing one.”

“Yeah, well...” Shane almost said we all have secrets, but he stopped himself. Instead, he said, “Let’s just make sure we win this one, all right?”

“Fucking right.”

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

He was in the corner with him now, battling for the puck, and this was his favorite part of any game.

Hollander won, and skated away with his prize. Ilya smiled to himself and raced off after him. Shane was a better stick handler, but Ilya was a faster skater, and he caught up with him and poked the puck off his blade from behind.

Ilya had the puck for all of three seconds before Shane forced him into the boards and stole it back. Then he took off again, with a challenging (and somewhat flirty) glance back at Ilya. Ilya grinned and launched himself after him, but this time Shane was flying and Ilya was struggling to close the gap and then...

Oh god. No.

It happened so fast, Ilya could barely process it. One second, Shane was racing down the ice, and the next he was slamming against the boards after colliding hard with Cliff Marlow.

And then he was crumpled and motionless, on the ice, and Ilya didn’t know what to do.

“Shane?”

Blurry, bright shapes and screeching noise.

“Don’t move, all right? Just stay still. We’re going to take you off the ice.”

Ice?

“Hollander?”

A different voice.

“Ilya?” Did I say that? Shane heard his own voice, but had he moved his lips? He blinked, trying to get his eyes to focus.

“Is he all right?” That was Ilya’s voice for sure. It sounded different, though. It was...unsteady. Panicked.

“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 going to move you onto the spinal board, Shane. Keep your head still, please.”

Spinal board?

“Ilya, please stand back,” the authoritative voice said. And the dark blur that had been looming over Shane disappeared.

“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.”

He wanted to turn his head to look at Ilya, but he couldn’t now.

Suddenly, he was in the air. He watched the lights and the rafters and the banners that hung from them pass in front of his eyes as he was carried off the ice. He heard applause.

Oh god. What if I’m not okay?

What if I never walk again?

“What happened?” he gritted out.

“You took a blow to the head. You went into the boards.”

Fuck.

“There’s an ambulance waiting.”

Shane pressed his lips together. His eyes were stinging. He was scared.

“My parents,” he said. “They’re at the game.”

He watched the paramedics share a look, then one of them nodded. “We’ll make sure they know where we’re taking you.”

Shane closed his eyes because keeping them open was too difficult.

“We need you to stay awake, Shane. All right?”

“Yeah. Sure,” Shane said. As the confusion started to clear, he was able to focus on the pain that shot through him.

He felt cool air on his feet as someone removed his skates. “Can you move your toes?”

Fuck. He really, really hoped so. Feeling the cold air had to be a good sign, right?

“Good,” the paramedic said, because apparently Shane had successfully wiggled his toes.

Thank god. Thank god. Thank god.