The Long Game (Game Changers #6)(41)

After the kiss, Ilya pressed his forehead against Shane’s, and they just stood there like that, frozen in the moment.

“Does this mean tonight is our honeymoon?” Shane asked quietly.

“Let’s pretend it is.”

Shane was having a difficult time getting his key to work because Ilya wouldn’t stop kissing his neck.

“Quit it for a sec, would you?” Shane said, tipping his head to the side to try to block Ilya’s attacks.

Ilya wasn’t deterred. He switched to the other side and nibbled under Shane’s ear. Shane let out a childish-sounding giggle and pretended to try to get away when Ilya wrapped an arm across his chest from behind.

“Give it to me,” Ilya said, snatching the key from Shane’s hand. He deftly inserted the key in the lock and turned it while continuing to make a meal of Shane’s neck.

“Show-off,” Shane complained.

“Always.” Then Ilya scooped Shane into his arms, bridal style. The same way he’d carried Jackie to the car earlier that day.

“What the hell?” Shane said, though he knew he sounded more delighted than outraged. “Put me down!”

Ilya grinned at him, and nudged the door open with his foot. “Is our wedding night.”

“This can’t be good for your knee.”

“My knee is fine,” Ilya scoffed. “And you are very light.”

“I’m two hundred pounds!”

“Sure you are.”

“I am!”

“Like you are five-ten.”

“I am five-ten!”

Ilya shook his head and stepped over the threshold.

The Pikes had been at the hospital for hours, but thankfully Jackie’s ankle was, as she’d repeatedly told her husband, only sprained. She’d hobbled through the door on crutches around dinnertime, Hayden hovering close behind looking exhausted and concerned. Ilya, Shane, and the kids had been gathered on the sofa, watching Frozen 2. Ilya’s arm had been wrapped snugly around Shane, which had been nice, in the presence of others. Hayden hadn’t even seemed bothered by it, but that may have been because he’d been distracted by the floral headband Ilya had still been wearing.

It had been a thoroughly enjoyable day.

Ilya carried Shane to the living room, then stopped and glanced around. “Now what?”

“Now you put me down!”

“This is how it works? I thought maybe I put you on our bed? With rose petals?”

“God, fuck off.” Shane squirmed until Ilya had no choice but to release him. Shane landed on his feet, but stumbled forward and almost collided with the coffee table. When he turned around to glare at Ilya, he found him smiling at him with the same soft expression Shane had seen on his face during their make-believe wedding vows.

“What?” Shane asked.

“Nothing.” Ilya scratched the back of his own neck. Looked away. Looked back at Shane. “Today was nice.”

“It was.” Shane took his hand and tugged him closer. “I mean, not the part where Jackie sprained her ankle, but the rest of it.”

“She is lucky it was not broken.”

“Hayden is lucky,” Shane said. Hayden was his best friend and a wonderful father, but Jackie took care of about ninety-nine percent of everything that went on in that family.

“I like those kids,” Ilya said. “I can’t believe Hayden made them.”

“You’re great with kids.” Shane brushed their noses together, then kissed Ilya’s mouth. He tasted like the lemonade Shane had declined at the Pikes’ house but that Ilya had happily drank two glasses of. Shane guiltily enjoyed the taste now, sweet and tangy.

When they broke the kiss, Ilya said, “You will be a good dad.”

Shane rested his forehead on Ilya’s shoulder and smiled. “Not as good as you.”

Ilya huffed. “Not everything is a competition with us.”

“We’d find a way to make parenting a competition.”

Strong arms tightened around Shane. “No. It will be together. Peaceful.”

Shane, feeling brave, admitted, “There were moments today where I felt like I was looking into our future.”

Ilya pulled back to meet Shane’s gaze. “And it was okay?”

“It was amazing.”

Shane saw joy flash in Ilya’s eyes, and then he didn’t see anything because Ilya was kissing him thoroughly. Shane lost himself in it, enjoying the familiar but still exhilarating heat of Ilya’s mouth. Shane touched him everywhere: the rough scratch of Ilya’s ever-present stubble, the soft curls of his shaggy hair, the long line of his neck and the mounds of his muscular shoulders. He slid a hand up under Ilya’s T-shirt and glided his palm over Ilya’s abs, his perfect bellybutton, and the neat trail of hair beneath it. Then up to his broad chest, over his chest hair and stiff nipples, finally resting over his heart and his stupid bear tattoo.

“I love you,” Ilya murmured against Shane’s lips.

“I love you too.”

“But we are not having four children.”

Shane laughed. “God no. Of course not.”

“It would be too much. With the dogs.”

“Um. I think you mean cat.”

“I did not mean cat. Definitely not.”