The Long Game (Game Changers #6)(58)

“What do you think the worst-case scenario is?”

Ilya took a moment to think before answering. “My worst fear is having to go back to Russia. Especially since, in that scenario, I would have been outed as bisexual.”

“Do you think that’s likely?”

Ilya sighed. “I don’t know.”

“What would need to happen, for you to have to leave Canada?”

“I guess I think...if I wasn’t allowed to play hockey, I would be unemployed. And I haven’t lived here long enough to apply for citizenship.”

“But there are other ways,” she said reasonably. “And it’s unlikely you’d be banned from the NHL, especially given who you are.”

She was right. Ilya had considered the fact that, even if the worst happened and he and Shane were kicked out of the league—or shunned by every team, if not officially kicked out—then he could seek out other ways to stay in Canada. He could find other work. He could...get married.

“Worst-case scenario,” he said slowly. “Actual, realistic worst-case scenario: our NHL careers are over, but we can get married, and live a quiet life together in Canada.”

“How does that make you feel?”

“Angry that we would have our careers cut short like that. But also... I don’t know. Relief, maybe. Sometimes I feel like I might scream, it’s so hard keeping this secret. I love hockey, and I deserve to have the career I want for as long as I want it. I’ve earned that. But if I had to choose...I’d choose him.”

Galina made another quick note.

“But,” Ilya said quietly, “I shouldn’t have to choose.”

“What’s the best-case scenario?” she asked.

Ilya blew out a breath. “No idea. We announce we’re together and everyone cheers? I win three more Stanley Cups and celebrate each one with my husband watching? I don’t know.”

“What’s a realistic best-case scenario?”

Ilya considered it, and smiled. “We keep going, same as we are now, except everyone knows we’re together and it’s fine. No big deal.”

“Is that what you both want?”

Well, that was the big question. Ilya thought that was what Shane wanted, but he was also pretty sure Shane was happy to hide until they were both retired. “I hope so.”



Chapter Seventeen


In the middle of November, without warning, Ilya got a new, unwanted teammate. Troy Barrett was definitely a talented forward, and a potential upgrade to Ilya’s current linemate, Tanner Dillon, but he’d also always seemed like a total prick to Ilya.

“I hate this,” Ilya complained on the phone to Shane. “My team was perfect. Now we have this asshole.”

“Your team is terrible,” Shane reminded him.

“Yes, but, you know. The vibes are good. Barrett has bad vibes.”

“I know. Sorry.”

“Harris was bringing the new team puppy to practice today! Now Barrett is there too. Ruins everything.”

“I still can’t believe he called Kent out,” Shane said. “Maybe he isn’t so bad?”

The reason Toronto had quickly traded Barrett to Ottawa for a few draft picks—far less than the all-star player was worth—was because Troy had gotten in a fight with his even shittier teammate, Dallas Kent. Kent, a homophobic bully and one of the most repulsive people Ilya had ever met, had recently been accused of rape and assault by numerous anonymous women online. Apparently that had been a bridge too far for his former best friend, Troy Barrett.

“Yes, well. What is the saying about a broken clock? Wyatt says it.”

“It’s right twice a day.”

“Yes. He is right about one thing. Probably still mostly bad.”

“Maybe he’ll be a good linemate. I’ve been listening to you complain about Tanner Dillon for as long as you’ve played for Ottawa.”

“I still don’t want him.”

“I know. I’m just trying to cheer you up.” Shane sighed heavily. “I have to go. Team meeting.”

“Okay. How is Buffalo?”

“Amazing,” Shane said flatly.

Ilya laughed. “Good luck tonight.”

“Good luck with Troy Barrett. I can’t wait to hear all about him.”

“So nosy.”

“I love you. I’ll call you after the game tonight.”

“I will be waiting. I love you too.”

They ended the call, and Ilya immediately texted Harris.

Ilya: You are bringing the puppy today yes?

Harris: Yup!

Ilya exhaled slowly. At least this day wouldn’t be total garbage.

“So how was he?” Shane asked. He was sprawled out on his hotel bed, completely exhausted after the game.

“So cute, Shane. You should see him!”

“What?” Troy Barrett was an attractive man, sure, but that was an unexpected reaction from Ilya.

“He licked my face with his little tongue!”

“Uh.”

“His ears are so floppy, and he is so soft. I wanted to carry him around all practice.”

Oh. “I meant Troy, idiot. Not the puppy.”

Ilya huffed. “Who cares? Puppy was great. His name is Chiron. He is black and small and—”