The Long Game (Game Changers #6)(38)

“Good morning,” Shane mumbled.

“It is,” Ilya agreed.

Shane rolled to his back and gazed up at Ilya, rumpled and sleepy and gorgeous in the morning light. “We have the whole day together.”

Ilya smiled. “And night.”

“What do you want to do?”

“I want you to brush your teeth, because you won’t let me kiss you until you do.”

“You have to brush yours too,” Shane was quick to add.

“Yes, yes.” Ilya lifted Shane’s hand to his mouth and kissed his knuckles.

“And we have to shower.”

“I know. But then I want to make you a gross, healthy breakfast.” He kissed Shane’s palm. “And I want to spend the whole day touching you.”

“Okay.”

They brushed their teeth, then made out in the shower together. They were both in good moods, smiling and laughing easily. Ilya made poached eggs with sliced up fruit while Shane made protein smoothies and coffee.

“That ESPN doc about us airs next week,” Shane said.

“Yes.”

“You think it’ll be weird watching that?”

Ilya shrugged. “Maybe.”

“I think my interviews were terrible. I was so awkward.”

“Of course you were.”

“Answering so many questions about you, and our, y’know, professional relationship. While hiding our actual relationship. It was tough.”

“Mm.”

Shane held out a mug of coffee, which Ilya took. Then, as casually as possible, Shane asked, “What did you say about me?”

Ilya chuckled and went to the fridge to get some of the coffee cream that Shane had bought specifically for him. “Watch the documentary and find out.”

Shane let out a long, exasperated breath. “Just tell me one thing.”

“No.”

Shane glared at him, then stomped angrily over to the kitchen table. “Fine.”

Ilya put the cream away and headed for the sugar bowl. “I said you come really fast when I suck your balls.”

Shane threw a strawberry at him. “You’re an idiot. And it’s not even that fast.”

“Okay.”

They sat at the table together, and Ilya sniffed his smoothie with open disgust on his face.

“It’s packed with protein and nutrients,” Shane promised him. Ilya didn’t seem to think that was a good enough reason to drink it. He set it aside and went for the eggs instead.

“I said nice things about you,” Shane said as he watched Ilya devour his eggs.

“Did you?” He sounded disinterested, but Shane knew it was a front.

“Yup.” Shane sipped his smoothie, and waited.

“What did you say?” Ilya said.

Shane smiled. “You’ll have to watch and see.”

Ilya huffed. “Fine.”

The triumph of victory didn’t last long. Shane poked at his eggs and said, somewhat pathetically, “I wish you’d tell me one thing you said.”

“Why?” Ilya snapped, his voice loud and sharp enough to startle Shane. “Was boring. I could not say any of the things I wanted to say. I said you were a great hockey player. A nice guy. Very competitive. All of the shit that any of your teammates could have said.” Ilya sighed loudly, then continued in a quieter tone. “When you watch it, this is what you will see. Me saying nothing. I wanted to say you are fucking everything to me. Everything. Okay?”

Shane swallowed hard. “Oh.”

He wasn’t sure, after years of being together, how he could still be surprised by the depths of what Ilya felt for him. By the plain, unguarded way Ilya would occasionally reveal what he held in his heart. Maybe English being Ilya’s second language made it harder to dress up his feelings with fancy words, but the raw honesty left Shane thunderstruck every time.

Ilya let out a shaky breath. “But I am still not drinking that smoothie.”

Shane laughed, glad to be rid of some of the tension that had built inside him. Then, quietly, he said, “You’re everything to me too.”

Ilya held his gaze for a long moment, and Shane thought his eyes looked a bit sad. Then Ilya said, “Of course.”

An hour later, they were tangled up together on Shane’s couch. Shane couldn’t even remember the planned activity that had brought them here—watching a movie? video games?—because it had been instantly shoved aside in favor of kissing. Shane was straddling Ilya’s lap, facing him, and kissing him while he held his face in both hands.

“I missed you so fucking much,” Shane murmured against Ilya’s lips.

Ilya squeezed his ass, and kissed him hungrily. They were both fully clothed and hard as hell, but neither was in a hurry to escalate things. Maybe they’d keep kissing and caressing each other until neither of them could stand it anymore, then Ilya would bend him over the sofa and rim him and finger him until Shane was begging for it.

Shane groaned thinking about it, which made Ilya laugh.

“What?” Ilya asked.

“Nothing.” Then, he gathered up some courage and said, “Thinking about you fucking me.”

Ilya licked Shane’s Adam’s apple. “I am thinking about it too.”

Shane’s phone rang on the coffee table behind them.