The Long Game (Game Changers #6)(104)

Ilya gave him a lazy salute and turned toward the driveway.

Shane had a list of ways he wanted to spend the morning before Ilya had to drive back to Ottawa. They could stay in bed for most of it, or maybe take Anya to a park. Maybe work out together. Maybe all of that.

None of his plans involved his doorbell ringing at nine in the morning.

He immediately stopped kissing Ilya and shot him a quizzical look. “Did you order more dog toys?”

“No.”

Anya was barking, and then the doorbell rang a second time. Shane sighed and rolled off of Ilya. “I’d better see who it is.”

He pulled on some pajama pants and a T-shirt and jogged downstairs, Anya at his heels. He was surprised to find Hayden when he opened to door.

“Hi?” Shane said. Then he noticed how ashen Hayden’s face looked. “What happened? Is everyone all right? Come in.”

Shane carried Anya into the living room, and Hayden followed close behind. Ilya was standing at the top of the stairs, wearing only sweatpants. “Hayden?” he said.

“Sorry to show up like this, but um...can we sit, maybe?”

Shane sat immediately on the couch. “What’s going on?”

A moment later, Ilya sat beside him. Hayden sat in an armchair opposite.

“Have you guys been online at all today?” Hayden asked. “I’m guessing not.”

“No,” Shane said. “Why?”

Hayden blew out a breath and scratched the back of his neck. “Okay. So, um, you know how I did that FanMail video yesterday?”

“Yes,” Shane said impatiently. This was sounding less important by the second.

“The thing is. I was in a room that I kind of use as, like, a trophy room. Nice room. Big windows, lots of shelves, mirrors. Really looks good in the videos.”

“Very interesting,” Ilya said flatly.

“So the windows look out to the side of the house with the trees. And I wasn’t standing in front of the windows, because that always looks a little weird to be backlit like that...”

“Hayden,” Ilya said with a hint of warning. “What happened?”

“I was standing next to the trophy wall with the big mirror and the angle was, like, you could see out the window, in the mirror. I didn’t notice when I was filming, or, um, after I sent the video. But in the mirror you can see...”

Shane’s stomach plummeted. “What can you see?” he asked faintly, already knowing the answer.

Hayden scrubbed his face with one hand. “You guys. Kissing. Like, really kissing. A lot.”

Shane swallowed with difficulty. “Is it obvious? That it’s us?”

Hayden nodded. “Very.”

Fuck. Fuck. There had to be a way to fix this. “You only sent this video to one person, right?”

“Yep,” Hayden said. “And that one person posted it on Twitter.”

Shane couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t swallow. He was going to die from choking on his own saliva.

“I’m so sorry, Shane,” Hayden said. “I don’t really watch the videos before I send them. I never would have sent it if I saw, but I really fucked up.”

Shane couldn’t react. He didn’t know how to react. Eleven years of keeping this a secret and this was how they got discovered. A fucking FanMail video.

Jesus, was Ilya going to punch Hayden? Ilya was being oddly silent, but there was no way he wasn’t furious. Shane wanted to pre-emptively defend his friend, but he couldn’t. He was choking on rage and fear and humiliation, and trying to remember how to swallow.

They’d been so close to telling the world on their own terms. A few months. Fuck.

“Please say something,” Hayden said miserably. “I know you hate me. Just say it. I deserve it.”

Shane opened his mouth, then closed it. He wanted to say something before Ilya said something worse.

“It is okay,” Ilya said quietly.

Hayden looked at him with wide, surprised eyes. “What?”

“It is okay,” Ilya said again. “You have been a good friend. Kept our secret for years. This was an accident, and it is our fault for not being more careful.”

One of the knots inside Shane’s chest loosened. He forced himself to nod. “Ilya’s right. Of course we don’t hate you.” He managed to finally swallow and breathe. “So how bad is it?”

“Bad,” Hayden said. “The video is fucking everywhere.”

“What are people saying?”

“Mostly, like, ‘what the fuck?’ or ‘holy fucking shit’ or ‘is this a fucking joke?’ That kind of thing.”

“Oh god,” Shane said, and buried his face in his hands.

Ilya placed a hand on his back. “What are your teammates saying?”

“Mostly the same sort of thing,” Hayden sighed. “Practice is gonna be weird this afternoon. No question.”

“If I’m even allowed at practice,” Shane moaned.

“There are definitely people on the internet who think you shouldn’t be,” Hayden said. “But, y’know. Fuck ’em.”

“I don’t ever want to look at my phone again,” Shane said to his hands. “I’m going to throw it in the river.”