The Long Game (Game Changers #6)(106)

“Okay,” Shane said, “but I want to wait until after practice this afternoon at least. I need to talk to my team.”

“That’s reasonable. But we should release it tomorrow at the latest, probably.”

“All right. Yeah.”

“What about your team, Ilya?” Farah asked. “Have you spoken to anyone there?”

“Not yet. But I think it will be okay.”

“I think so too. But I’m sorry this happened,” Farah said. “It’s awful. Hayden must feel terrible.”

“He does,” Shane said, “but we talked to him. It’s not his fault.”

“Good. Okay, let me get cracking on this statement. I know things are bleak right now, but it will die down. We’ll steer things back your way, I promise.”

Shane stared at the phone for a while after the call ended, still numb. Ilya rubbed his shoulder.

“Farah will help,” Ilya assured him.

“I’m worried she can’t.”

“I know.” Ilya sighed. “I have to go back to Ottawa now. Our plane leaves in a few hours.”

“Right. Shit.”

“I am sorry to leave you now. Will you be okay?”

“I mean, no. I’ll be a fucking mess.” He blew out a breath. “I need to try to talk to J.J. before practice.”

“Do you think your team will be okay?”

“I have no idea. Probably not at first. I don’t think Coach is going to be okay with it. Or management. Or, like, anyone.” Shane sighed. “I’ll find out this afternoon, I guess.”

Ilya took his hand and brought it to his lips, kissing Shane’s knuckles. “One thing at a time.”

Shane shifted closer until his face was hovering over Ilya’s. “One thing at a time,” he agreed. He kissed him, and realized this was it. Ilya was going to leave the safety of Shane’s house soon, and walk into chaos. The secret wasn’t a secret anymore, and it was time to face whatever was about to happen next. Together.

“Fuck,” Ilya said when he spotted the black SUV parked outside the gates at the end of his driveway. He didn’t know who owned the vehicle, but he was sure they were here to bother him. Probably an overly ambitious journalist. He didn’t need this right now. He needed to pack, get Anya to the dog hotel, and then get to the team plane.

He pressed the remote button that opened his gate and steered into his driveway. When he stepped out of the car, he heard a familiar voice behind him.

“Ilya,” Coach Wiebe called out from the end of the driveway. “You got a minute?”

Ilya sighed, nodded, and gestured for his coach to follow him to the house. May as well get this over with.

When they got inside, Anya stood in front of Ilya’s legs and barked menacingly at Coach Wiebe. Ilya bent and petted her head. “Is okay, Anya. He is a friend.”

Ilya glanced up and locked eyes with his coach, silently asking, Right?

Wiebe crouched too and offered Anya his hand to sniff. “Nice to meet you, Anya. I’m just here to talk to your dad.” He smiled at Ilya. “She’s cute.”

“She is the best.”

Wiebe stood. “Can we sit, maybe?”

Ilya stood as well. “I can make coffee.”

“Now we’re talking.”

They went to the kitchen, and Ilya used his espresso machine to make them each an Americano. It was faster than brewing a pot. Wiebe waited until they were both sitting at the kitchen table before he got down to business.

“So,” he said, with a hint of amusement in his eyes, “I’m guessing your, um, appearance in Pike’s video was unintentional.”

“Yes.”

“Sorry.” Wiebe looked genuinely sympathetic. “That’s terrible.”

Ilya sipped his coffee, not saying anything.

“Is it serious?” Wiebe asked. “You and Hollander?”

“You mean, was it a joke?”

Wiebe shook his head. “No way a kiss like that was a joke. No, I mean, are you two an item?”

The ice shelf that Ilya had built up in his chest began to crumble and slide away. “I love him,” he said quietly.

There was a long silence. Ilya stared at his coffee and waited.

“And I’d say the feeling is mutual,” his coach finally said. “Based on that video, anyway.”

Ilya’s lips curved up. “It is very much mutual.” His tentative smile only lasted a moment. “How bad will this be?”

Wiebe exhaled slowly. “I don’t know,” he said. “Crowell has ordered that you both be benched for a bit. He wants it dealt with, whatever that means.”

Jesus. Shane was going to lose his mind.

“I’m sorry,” Ilya said, not really meaning it. He wasn’t sorry he’d fallen in love with Shane. Wasn’t even sorry he’d made the mistake of kissing him when he’d thought no one could see. But he was a bit sorry that Coach Wiebe needed to deal with this. He was a good guy.

“I’m not going to pretend this isn’t complicated as hell,” Coach said, “but you don’t need to apologize to me.”

“No?”

“No.” Wiebe smiled. His smiles were always warm, with a hint of mischief. “I mean, the timing isn’t great. I’m a rookie coach, Roz! Come on!”