The Long Game (Game Changers #6)(11)

Ryan smiled. “I’m used to that sort of thing happening. Still nice, though.”

“Ryan gets plenty of attention too,” Fabian said. “But we rarely get recognized by the same people.”

“Very different fan bases,” Ryan agreed.

“Except the queer hockey fans who think it’s, like, the best that we’re a couple.”

“Oh yeah?” Shane asked, suddenly very interested in the conversation. “What do they say?”

“They’re happy for me,” Ryan said quietly.

“And jealous of me, I’m sure,” Fabian said.

“As if,” Ryan huffed.

“Do you ever get the other side of it?” Shane asked. “From hockey fans?”

“Maybe,” Ryan said. “I stay offline and I don’t play hockey anymore, so I guess I don’t hear it if it’s out there.”

Well. Shane did play hockey still, and while he wasn’t very active online, he’d been doing more with his Instagram account since he and Ilya had started the charity. And also he was, y’know, in a committed relationship with his archrival. That was a bit different from Ryan’s situation.

Leo returned with their drinks. He gave Fabian his mojito first, which was packed with mint leaves and looked very refreshing.

“You’re a lifesaver, darling,” Fabian told him. “This is exactly what I need.”

Leo smiled widely as he handed out the rest of the drinks. He placed a tall glass of sparkling water in front of Shane with both lime and lemon wedges decorating the rim. “Have you decided what you want to eat?”

Shane hadn’t even looked at the menu. Fabian ordered a fancy-sounding pizza for him and Ryan to share, Ilya ordered a less fancy pizza to eat by himself, and Shane frantically read the menu’s salad selection.

“Um.”

“Look,” Ilya said, pointing to something lower down the menu. Shane quickly read the description of the grilled salmon with sauteed vegetables and roasted potato and almost kissed him.

“I’ll have the salmon with no sauce, and could I get the vegetables with no butter? If that’s a problem, maybe a side garden salad instead of the vegetables?”

“Sure, uh. That shouldn’t be a problem.” Leo sounded uncertain as he wrote everything down. “If it’s a salad, which dressing would you like?”

“Just a bit of olive oil and red wine vinegar, if it’s not too much trouble. Or a lemon wedge.”

“He is very fun to go to restaurants with,” Ilya teased. Everyone laughed except Shane, who irritably bumped his knee against Ilya’s.

“I’m on a strict performance diet,” Shane explained defensively after Leo left. “It’s normal for professional athletes and recommended.” He aimed this last word at Ilya, who ate like a thirteen-year-old most of the time.

“Shane thinks he is getting old,” Ilya said. “He fears death.”

“That’s not it at all! I fear not living up to the expectations of the Montreal Voyageurs organization and our fans.”

“Would be easier to cheat death,” Ilya said, “than to meet Montreal’s hockey expectations.”

He wasn’t wrong.

“Do you both play for Montreal?” Fabian asked.

“No. Just me. Ilya plays for Ottawa.”

“So it’s not a super-long-distance relationship,” Fabian observed.

Shane squirmed because this was the first time anyone at the table had directly acknowledged the fact that Ilya and Shane were a couple. “It’s, um. It’s not a huge distance, but—”

“Feels farther,” Ilya said. “We are so busy, during the season. Not much time together.”

“That must be hard. And this—” Fabian waved a hand between them “—is a secret, right?”

“A big one,” Ryan said.

“That makes it harder,” Fabian said sympathetically. He leaned in so he could lower his voice. “Why is it a secret? You wouldn’t be the only gay hockey players. Or queer. Sorry, I shouldn’t assume.”

“I am bisexual,” Ilya said, nodding. “Shane is super gay.”

“I’m regular gay,” Shane argued. “And, no, we aren’t the only queer NHL players. But our situation is complicated.”

“Because you’re on different teams?”

“Mostly, yes. It’s a little bigger than that, though.”

“The league has built up this huge rivalry between them,” Ryan explained. “Been going on since their rookie seasons.”

“Before that, even,” Shane said.

“Oh wow. That’s kind of fascinating,” Fabian said. “But everyone knows you’re friends, obviously. You have this charity together. What difference does it make if you also kiss?”

Shane opened his mouth to explain the difference, but couldn’t quite find the words. The way Fabian said it made the distinction sound so unimportant. It really shouldn’t make a difference. But it did.

“It would make things very...hard for us,” Ilya said. “Distracting.”

“It would be a fucking shitshow,” Shane agreed. “I think we’d both rather focus on hockey for now.”