The Long Game (Game Changers #6)(2)

Shane chewed his lip, considering the undeniable truth of that. “She’ll support us.”

“I know. So we tell her.”

The shower they’d taken together had lasted longer than was strictly necessary. As a result, Shane was still struggling into his T-shirt when Farah’s FaceTime request lit up his phone. Ilya was only wearing underwear.

“Should I answer?” Ilya asked, picking up Shane’s phone from the dresser.

“No! Get dressed!” Shane snatched the phone and accepted Farah’s request. Her face filled the screen, elegantly put together as always.

“Hi, guys,” she said cheerfully. “Or, hi, Shane, anyway.”

“Ilya’s here. He’s just...” Shane trailed off, momentarily distracted by Ilya’s low-slung shorts and bare torso.

“Hi, Farah,” Ilya called out.

Farah smiled, probably used to dealing with idiot hockey players by now. She was only about ten years older than Ilya and Shane, but seemed twice as mature as they’d ever be. “Hi, Ilya. Are you guys having a nice summer?”

“Great. Yeah,” Shane said, probably a little too enthusiastically. He was nervous. And he’d just realized that they were doing this video call from his bedroom, which was probably a bit weird. He sat on the edge of his bed, holding the phone at eye level. “How’s your summer going?”

“Busy.”

Ilya joined Shane on the bed, still tugging his T-shirt into place. Farah glanced between them, probably noticing that they both had wet hair.

Fuck. This was ridiculous.

“Before we talk about...other stuff,” Shane said. “We have something we want to tell you.”

“I’m all ears.”

Shane met Ilya’s gaze. Ilya rested a hand on Shane’s knee and squeezed.

“So,” Shane said slowly, “you know that I’m gay.”

“Of course. You told me.”

“Yeah. So here’s the thing...”

“I am bisexual,” Ilya blurted out.

Farah’s lips curved up. “I think I can see where this is going,” she said calmly.

Well, now they knew how easy it would be for someone to put two and two together if they knew the truth about Ilya’s sexuality.

“Yeah,” Shane said. “I think you do.”

“We are together,” Ilya said, in case she didn’t.

“Sorry,” Shane said. “I know this is going to be complicated for you.”

“Don’t apologize. I love you guys, and I’m happy for you.” She laughed. “Can’t say I predicted this when I woke up this morning. May I ask how long you’ve been together?”

Shane and Ilya shared a smile, then Ilya said, “A long time. Years.”

“So it isn’t brand-new,” Farah said, more to herself than to them, Shane suspected. “Not to ask a stupid question, but it’s serious?”

“Very,” Ilya said. Shane’s heart flipped the way it always did when Ilya made it clear how much Shane meant to him.

“Do you want to tell people?” Farah asked.

“No,” Shane said quickly, at the same time Ilya said, “Not yet.”

“We just wanted you to know,” Shane clarified. “Not many people do, but we thought you should.”

Farah nodded. “I’m on your side. So whatever you need from me, you’ve got it. There’s no precedent for NHL rivals being romantically involved, obviously, so we’re in uncharted waters here. Whatever happens, it definitely won’t be boring!”

“I wouldn’t mind boring,” Shane mumbled.

“Shane loves boring,” Ilya said.

Farah laughed. “Well, good, because I have a whole list of boring stuff to go over with both of you.”

They talked about endorsement opportunities, about the scheduled air date for a documentary ESPN had made about their rivalry, about Shane’s impending free agency at the end of this upcoming season, about the charity hockey camps that started next week. None of it, as far as Shane was concerned, was boring.

“I’m looking forward to seeing the documentary,” Farah said. “Their Scott Hunter doc was fantastic.”

“Did not see it,” Ilya said flatly.

“I guess they didn’t quite capture the real story about you guys, though.”

No. Ilya and Shane had both been very careful not to give that away. Not that they’d had a lot of direct involvement in the documentary. They’d sat for separate interviews, and had endured a bit of the film crew following them around for a couple of days last season—again, separately—but as far as Shane knew the doc was mostly going to consist of existing game footage and interviews with other people.

As soon as their call with Farah ended, Ilya pinned Shane on the mattress, holding his wrists and kissing him breathless.

“That went okay,” Shane said between kisses.

“Was great. I told you.”

Shane loved Ilya so much it physically hurt to contain it some days. He didn’t want to be a gay icon, or deal with any of the attention they would get from the hockey world—both good and bad—if they ever disclosed their relationship, but he wished he could love Ilya openly without dealing with any of that.