The Long Game (Game Changers #6)(24)

Harris laughed. “I mean, it would get a few likes, I’m not gonna lie.”

Ilya did a couple of silly muscleman flex poses, showing off his biceps. Harris jokingly fanned himself. “Jesus, I need to sit down,” Harris said, plunking himself in the stall next to Ilya’s. “I’m about to swoon.”

Ilya grinned at him. If anyone could improve his mood in a hurry, it was Harris. Everyone on the team loved Harris, which Ilya appreciated because Harris was openly gay. He wasn’t sure Harris would have been as warmly accepted in Boston. He wouldn’t have been invited to team outings, that was for sure.

“Everyone’s going to Monk’s after,” Harris said. “You coming?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe.”

Harris smiled in a way that let Ilya know that he knew he wouldn’t be there. He stood and patted Ilya’s shoulder, which was a bit of a reach for him. He was even shorter than Shane. “I’d better get out of here before you take your shorts off and I actually combust.”

Ilya’s lips quirked up. “Do you even work for this team, or do you just hang out in the locker room?”

Harris winked at him. “Don’t tell anyone.”

He crossed the room to talk to Wyatt, and Ilya removed the rest of his gear and headed for the showers.

Ten minutes later he returned to the locker room, which was quieter than it had been when he’d left. He spotted Haas sitting in his stall, still wearing most of his gear, smiling at his puck. Ilya secured the towel around his waist and walked over to him.

“We can get that, um...” Ilya couldn’t remember the right word. “Made like a trophy.”

Luca quickly set the puck on the bench beside him, as if he were embarrassed about it. “It is just one goal,” he said.

Ilya sat next to him. “I have mine still, in my trophy room at home.”

“That room must be very full,” Luca said earnestly.

Ilya grinned. “Very. But the first goal puck is my favorite.”

Luca’s cheeks pinked, making him look even younger than he was. “Really?”

“Yes. Because it was the beginning, you know? Soon you will have a room full of NHL pucks and trophies, but—” Ilya picked up the puck “—it all started with this one.”

Luca ducked his head. “I wish we had won the game.”

Ilya almost made a joke about how Luca would get used to losing soon, but that wasn’t the message he wanted to send to his rookie. “Me too.” He poked Luca’s arm. “Are you going to Monk’s?”

Luca’s eyes went wide. “Are you?”

It hurt Ilya’s heart how badly this kid wanted him to come out with the team. How much it would mean to him. He knew Luca had idolized him growing up; he’d read the interviews.

But Ilya just...couldn’t. Not tonight. He didn’t have the energy to even fake it tonight.

“Next time,” he said with a weak attempt at a smile.

Later, in bed, Ilya couldn’t get his brain to shut up. It was unfortunate because his brain had nothing nice to say about him.

He knew, rationally, that he wasn’t worthless. He was an NHL all-star, the captain of his team, and was beloved by fans. He had a wonderful boyfriend who loved him so much he was willing to endure a lot of stress and sneaking around just to be with him. He was loved.

But he wasn’t sure he deserved to be. He couldn’t make himself believe that. Not right now.

He wished Shane was with him. They’d only been apart for two days, but Ilya would give anything to have Shane in his arms right now.

Weak. His brain said it in his father’s voice. Disgusted and cruel.

Ilya grabbed his phone off the nightstand. Maybe he was weak, but he needed whatever he could get from Shane right now. A sleepy selfie. A good-night text. A heart emoji. Anything.

Early the next morning, Shane woke to find a missed text on his phone, sent after one A.M.

Ilya: Are you awake?

Shane huffed and shook his head. Was Ilya ever not horny?



Chapter Eight


Ilya had a decision to make.

He could play it safe and take the sure thing, or he could risk it all for a shot at glory.

No decision at all, really. He rolled the dice.

“But that was a full house,” Yuna pointed out.

Ilya rolled two dice onto the table. “And now it is four threes.” He picked up the one nonconforming die and kissed it before rolling it.

“No!” said David as soon as the die came to a stop.

“Shit,” said Yuna.

“Yahtzee!” Ilya yelled. He raised his arms in triumph.

“I don’t know why we invite you over,” Yuna grumbled.

“Because I bring hand pies.” Ilya had learned from Harris about a bakery outside the city that sold the best hand pies Ilya had ever eaten. He especially liked the cherry ones.

“He has a point there,” David said.

Ilya’s phone rang then. When he saw who was calling, he grinned and stood up from the Hollanders’ kitchen table.

“Let me guess who that is,” Yuna teased.

Ilya winked at her as he walked into the living room and answered the call. “Hi.”

“Hey,” said Shane. “How’s it going?”