The Long Game (Game Changers #6)(112)

“You can imagine,” Crowell said, “how I feel about you two right now.”

This time, Ilya was smart enough to keep his mouth shut. He could feel the tension radiating off Shane beside him. Ilya would behave. For Shane.

Crowell leaned forward, both elbows on the large table between them. “Your actions have put me in a very difficult situation. On the one hand, your behavior is completely unacceptable and absolutely cannot be allowed. On the other, you’re two of the biggest stars in the league, and the playoffs are about to start.”

“Can’t be allowed?” Shane asked quietly.

Crowell’s eyes narrowed. “I would think that part would be obvious. But I guess it wasn’t, because there’s a video flying around the internet of you two making out.”

“It was a mistake,” Shane said.

“You’re fucking right it was a mistake!” Crowell yelled.

“I meant,” Shane said, surprisingly steadily, “the video wasn’t supposed to show that. We didn’t know.”

“Well, it did,” Crowell barked. “And I had to fly to Montreal to deal with it. You think I have time for this?” He took a breath and said, more calmly, “We need to get things back to normal as soon as possible. I don’t want a media circus around this thing.”

“We don’t either,” Shane said.

Crowell nodded. “The league has prepared a statement.” He opened a folder that was on the table in front of him and produced two sheets of paper. He handed one to each of them.

Ilya steeled himself, and began to read.

For nearly eleven seasons, Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov have been elite players in the NHL. Their skill and performance on the ice demonstrates a rare level of talent that thrills hockey fans everywhere. Earlier this week, a video was circulated on social media that depicted Mr. Hollander and Mr. Rozanov in an intimate embrace. After being questioned by the league’s commissioner, Roger Crowell, both players have confirmed that the incident was a prank they were pulling on their mutual friend, Hayden Pike. Both men regret their actions and the confusion it may have caused. They will return to their teams before their next scheduled games.
It was an easy out. Ilya knew this statement wouldn’t fool everyone, but he suspected enough hockey fans would believe this lie. Pranks in hockey were normal, falling in love with your rival wasn’t. This was something the hockey world—even other NHL players—could understand.

Shane was still reading. He hadn’t brought his glasses with him and was squinting at the page. Ilya didn’t want to hide anymore, but the playoffs were about to start and he couldn’t honestly blame Shane if he chose this easy cover-up, just to make the drama die down for a while. Ilya would fucking hate it, but he’d agree to it, if it was what Shane chose.

Finally, Shane’s head came up, and Ilya held his breath.

“But this isn’t true,” Shane said.

“It doesn’t matter,” Crowell said.

“It fucking does matter! It wasn’t a prank. We’re together. We’re—we’re getting married this summer.”

Crowell’s eyebrows shot up in obvious surprise, but he quickly composed himself. “That,” he said coldly, “is not happening. Not if you want to remain in this league.”

“Really?” Ilya asked. He wanted to flip the fucking table. “You are going to kick us out?”

“We’ll sue the shit out of the league,” Shane said, which honestly shocked Ilya.

For a long moment, Crowell said nothing. Then he said, “You’re right. You could sue. But do you think any team would sign you after that? Either way, you’d be done.”

Shane sucked in a breath. Ilya trembled with rage. They’d both given this league—this game—so much.

“We release the statement,” Crowell said. “Most hockey fans will believe it because they’ll want to believe it. There’s no scandal, you boys get to keep playing for as long as you want, and we all move on. And, obviously, you don’t get fucking married this summer.”

Ilya’s jaw was clenched so hard his teeth hurt. He was close to quitting the NHL on the spot. Instead he breathed through his nose and tried to figure out his next words.

Shane came up with some first. “Fuck this. Here’s a plan: we do whatever we want this summer and then we come back and have all-star seasons again next year. We’re not a couple of naïve rookies you can intimidate. You think we don’t know what we’re worth to this league?”

“What you were worth,” Crowell said. “You’re destroying your own brands with this shit.”

“No,” Ilya said. “We are making them stronger.”

Crowell leaned over the table, fury flashing dangerously in his eyes. “I am offering the only option that will save both of your careers and the reputation of this league. If you post your own statement and start flaunting your...relationship...then you will obliterate your legacies. You’ll be jokes. Choose carefully.”

For a long, tense moment, there was only the sound of three men breathing angrily.

Then Shane stood and said, “I choose him. Come on, Ilya.”

They both grabbed their coats from the backs of their chairs and left. Crowell was yelling something after them as they left the room, but Ilya didn’t care. He put on his coat, took Shane’s hand, and walked purposely toward the elevators. He was so full of love and adrenaline that he felt like he might explode. Once the elevator doors closed behind them, Shane said, “Sorry if I steamrolled that—”