Heated Rivalry (Game Changers Book 2)

Ilya bounced on the balls of his feet and felt the dock bob in the water beneath him.

“Is this the dock that you do yoga on?” he asked.

“No, I don’t do yoga on here. This was just where the camera crew asked me to…wait. Did you watch that thing?”

“Yes. Was great. I needed help sleeping.”

“You’re an asshole.”

They watched in silence as a couple of ducks swam by. This was what passed as entertainment here in the middle of nowhere.

It was late morning and the day was already hot. Shane, like Ilya, was wearing only shorts. They had slept late after keeping each other up most of the night.

The sun shone on every inch of Shane: his skin, his hair, his freckles. He looked so achingly beautiful and happy.

It was a shame that Ilya was going to ruin it. A shame, but there was no choice about it: Shane Hollander was standing on the edge of a dock, and now his back was turned to Ilya. Like an idiot.

“How’s the water?” Ilya asked.

“What?”

That was all the warning Shane got before Ilya pushed him off the dock with both hands. Shane let out most of a “motherfucker” before his head submerged beneath the dark water.

When he popped back up, he continued to splutter and swear as Ilya doubled over with laughter.

“Fuck. You!” Shane yelled, and he punctuated it with a mighty sweep of his arm that sent a wave of water at Ilya. It mostly hit Ilya’s calves.

“Asshole!” Shane yelled.

Ilya ran off the end of the dock and plunged into the water in a perfect cannonball, right next to Shane. As soon as his head was above water again, he splashed Shane right in the face, just for good measure.

Shane tried to punch his shoulder, but Ilya grabbed his wrist and pulled him closer. He kissed him quickly, and Shane pushed him hard in the chest.

“What if my phone had been in my pocket?” Shane complained.

“It wasn’t. You left it on the table. On the deck.”

“Well…”

Ilya kissed him again. It was a little awkward to do when they were both treading water. Shane tasted like cool, fresh water.

As if to prove that it was still perfectly safe and functioning, Shane’s phone started ringing in the distance.

“Uh-oh.” Ilya smirked.

“It’s fine. I don’t need to answer it.”

“No.” He kissed Shane again, and this time he turned them so he had Shane’s back pinned against the end of the dock. It was probably very uncomfortable for Shane, but he didn’t seem to mind. They kissed enthusiastically, and Ilya planted his hands against the wood of the dock on either side of Shane’s shoulders. Shane, to Ilya’s surprise, wrapped his legs around Ilya’s waist and pulled him tighter against him.

Ilya loved these rare moments that Shane was able to get out of his head and just let go. He loved that he could make Shane do that.

He loved Shane. God, he loved Shane.

They made out for a while like that before Shane reached back with both hands and hoisted himself up out of the water. Ilya quickly followed him. He pressed down on Shane, kissing him and forcing him to his back. He reached to grip Shane’s erection through his wet shorts.

“Someone could see. By boat,” Shane panted.

“Then keep a lookout.” Ilya plunged his hand into the waistband of Shane’s shorts and was rewarded with a delicious little whimper.

Shane’s phone rang again.

Shane tilted his head back to look in the direction of the phone. “Fuck off,” he yelled at it.

Ilya laughed and continued stroking Shane’s cock. He was rutting a bit against Shane’s thigh. The dock bounced vigorously in the water beneath them.

He nipped along Shane’s jawline, and kissed his smile. He didn’t think Shane was watching for boats at all.

“You like this, Hollander?”

“Yes. Yeah I…I’ve wanted this for so long.”

“Wanted what? Tell me.”

“You. Here. Outside like this.”

Ilya sucked in a breath. “What do you want me to do to you?”

“Anything. I don’t know. Everything.”

“Tell me one thing.” Ilya rocked harder and faster against the hard muscle of Shane’s thigh.

“I…thought about you…fucking me. Outside. On the deck. Or…against a tree.” His face flushed bright red, but Ilya smiled.

“Fuck, Hollander. You only had to ask.”

Shane gasped and arched his back. Ilya stroked him faster.

“Maybe we could canoe or something. Out to one of these little islands,” Ilya said, his lips brushing Shane’s ear. “Totally alone, and I’ll fuck you there, out in the open where no one will see.”

“Oh fuck. Fuck. Ilya.”

“Maybe someone will hear you. From their boat.”

“Ahh.”

The heat of Shane’s release mingled with the cold, damp fabric of his shorts. Ilya thrust a few more times against Shane’s leg and cried out as his own cock pulsed and spurted into his shorts.

He collapsed on top of Shane, panting.

Shane laughed breathlessly. “Wow. What the fuck?”

Ilya smiled and nuzzled Shane’s neck. “I don’t know. Couldn’t help it.”

“I can’t even remember why we came down to the dock in the first place.”

“Does it matter?”

Shane turned his head and kissed him quickly. “No.”

After a minute, Ilya pulled himself up into a push-up position over Shane, then quickly kissed him before sliding back into the water. Shane followed him, figuring it would at least clean his shorts a little bit.

They swam for a while longer before they both decided they were hungry and headed up to the house. Shane was just about to step through the sliding glass doors when Ilya grabbed his wrist and tugged him back toward him.

“Is it okay if I tell you I love you again?” Ilya asked. His crooked smile was adorably shy.

Shane smiled back. Hell, he probably beamed back. “It’s okay.”

Instead of saying the words, Ilya kissed him. It was slow and deliberate, his tongue pressing against Shane’s own, his fingers resting delicately on Shane’s waist. Shane felt like his legs might give out on him. He made a contented little noise and stepped in even closer, so he could feel Ilya pressed against every inch of him. His hands slid over the lake-cooled skin on Ilya’s back, eventually finding their way into his damp hair.

Ilya huffed and tilted Shane’s head back, kissing him deeper and more possessively. Shane felt dizzy with happiness. To be held like this and kissed like this by the man he loved—the man who loved him back—here at the place he loved more than anywhere else in the world…

They both heard a noise.

They both whipped their heads around.

They both saw Shane’s dad standing inside the house, staring, frozen, at where they were wrapped up in each other on the deck.

For a moment, no one moved. No one made a sound. Everyone. Just. Stared.

Then, very quickly, Shane’s dad turned on his heel and walked toward the front door of the house. Shane let go of Ilya and said, “Shit!”

“Your father, yes?”

“Yes! Fuck. Shit. Okay…”

Shane held his head with both hands. “Fuck!”

“Should you—?”

“Yeah. Okay. I’ll just…you wait here.”

Shane walked quickly through the house to the front door. He opened it just in time to see his father’s car disappear down the wooded road.

He stood there for a few minutes, wearing nothing but the wet shorts that he had very recently ejaculated into and a look of pure panic.

“Shane?”

He heard Ilya calling him, but he couldn’t find his voice to respond.

“Hollander?” He felt a hand on his elbow. “He was already gone?”

“Yeah.”

They both stood there in silence. Shane assumed that Ilya, too, was letting the enormity of this moment wash over him.

“This is bad,” Shane finally said.

“You should go. Talk to him.”

“Yeah. Shit. Yeah, I should. Probably best to do it now.”

He heard Ilya snort behind him.

“It’s not funny!” Shane snapped at him.

“A little funny.”

Shane turned around, ready to glare at him, but when he saw Ilya’s face he started laughing too.

“Jesus Christ,” he said. “So much for easing them into it.”

Ilya laughed harder. “Maybe he did not notice?”

They both cracked up. It was pure nerves, but Shane laughed until his eyes watered. His plan had been to tell his parents—soon—that he was gay. He had planned to give them time to digest that, and then he would tell them—eventually—that he was in a relationship. That he was in love.

And then, once all of that had settled with them, he would drop the real bombshell.

Now everything was happening in the exact opposite order.

“What the fuck am I going to tell them? So, you’re probably wondering why I was making out with Ilya Rozanov…”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

Shane was surprised by this offer. Did he want that? Would that make things even more awkward? He certainly felt like he could use the support.

“I don’t know. Would you really do that?”

Ilya took his hand and squeezed. “Yes. If it helps.”

Shane nodded. “It might. It will be awkward as hell, but…I’d like you to be there, I think.”

“Okay.”

“We should probably get dressed first.”

“Yes.”

They got dressed quickly. Shane put on a T-shirt from a charity hockey camp he helped coach last summer, just to remind his parents that he was a good and normal person.

Ilya was wearing a Boston Bears T-shirt. Shane made a face. “That’s not going to help.”

“Oh, do they not know I play for Boston?”

Shane rolled his eyes. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”

The drive to Shane’s parents’ cottage took about ten minutes, but it seemed way, way longer this time.

“Okay,” Shane said as he parked behind his father’s car. “Just…let me do the talking.”

“No problem.”

“Fuck, maybe you should wait in the car.”

Ilya raised an eyebrow at him.

“No,” Shane said. “No, never mind. Come on.”

He exited the car and Ilya followed. Shane wondered if his parents were watching them through a window.

He didn’t bother to knock. He never did, with them. He opened the door and said, as calmly as he could, “Hello? It’s me. It’s…Shane.”

His parents stood from where they had both been sitting on the couch. It was clear that his dad had told his mom what he’d seen.

“Shane?” his mother said. She said it like she’d never heard the word before.

“Mom. Dad. I…I think we should talk.”

“We forgot to buy dishwasher tablets,” Dad said. He sounded shell shocked. “I just wanted to see if I could borrow some. I didn’t know you had…company.”

“Dad, it’s okay. I’m sorry. You…shouldn’t have found out that way.”

“Found out what, exactly?” Mom asked. Her eyes were locked on Ilya, just over Shane’s shoulder.

“Well, I…I’m gay. Which I was going to tell you. Soon. I just…sorry. I wish I’d told you.”

His parents didn’t say anything. They were both looking at Ilya like he was a mountain lion that was about to attack.

“Um, and this is…Ilya. Rozanov. You probably know that.”

“Hi,” Ilya said.

“And he’s been…visiting. He’s…we’re, um…”

What were they, exactly? It occurred to Shane that he and Ilya hadn’t even figured out what label they were comfortable with.

“Lovers,” Ilya offered.

Fuck, way to choose the grossest possible word, Ilya.

Well, there was no going back from that word. Shane could only wait for the aftermath.

“But…you hate him,” Mom said.

“No, I…I don’t. I mean. Sometimes I do, kinda. But mostly I…love him. Actually.”

“You…what?”

Shane’s heart was racing. “Can we just…sit, maybe? I’m sorry. I know this is a lot at once. I didn’t want this to be how I told you. At all.”

No one said anything for a moment, then his father nodded and gestured to the living room furniture. His parents sat together on the couch. Shane and Ilya sat in separate chairs facing them.

“Shane…” Mom began. “I think we both…suspected…that you might be…gay.”

“You did?” Shane had not been expecting that.

“Yes, well. We didn’t know for certain, obviously. We just thought it might be a possibility.”

“Geez. I had no idea you thought that.”

“We know you pretty well,” Mom said. She gave him a small smile, and that one tiny gesture made Shane want to weep with relief.

“What we did not suspect,” Dad added, “was that you were…friendly…with Mr. Rozanov here.”

“Ilya,” said Ilya.

“Ilya, then.”

“It’s…a long story. And it doesn’t even make sense to us,” Shane said.

“None,” Ilya agreed.

“When did this happen?” Mom asked. “Wait, was it the All-Star Game? You were on the same team—”

“No,” Shane said. “It was…already going on then.”

His father blew out a breath. “You sure fooled us. And…everyone else.”

“So when?” Mom asked. She seemed desperate to figure out the timeline of this thing. Shane could see her mentally replaying the past several seasons in her head.

“Since, um, our rookie year,” Shane mumbled.

He didn’t think his parents could possibly look more shocked than they already had, but they definitely looked more shocked at this news.

“You can’t have been…since your rookie season?” his mother gasped.

“No,” Ilya said. “That’s not right. Was before that.”

Not helping, Ilya.

“Before that?” Mom asked.

“A little before,” Ilya clarified. “Summer before.”

“You’ve been…in love this whole time?”

“No!” Shane said.

“God no,” Ilya said at the same time.

“But then…” Mom started. “Oh,” she said. And blushed. “I see.”

“Anyway,” Shane said. He was blushing even more than his mom. “The point is, we’re…together. Sort of. Or we’d like to be. If it wasn’t basically impossible.”

For the first time, the looks of shock left his parents’ faces and shifted to something like sympathy.

“I just don’t understand,” his mother said. “How could this have even happened between you? Weren’t there any nice men in Montreal, Shane?”

“Probably,” Shane muttered.

“Do your teammates know about…this?” Dad asked.

“No! No, no one does. No one. This is top secret, all right?”

His father stood up. “Would anyone like a beer? I could use a beer.”

“Yes,” said Ilya.

“Definitely,” said Shane.

“Is that the strongest thing we have?” asked his mom.

Shane took the break in the conversation as an opportunity to look at Ilya. He seemed to sense Shane’s eyes on him, and immediately turned to give him a questioning look.

How do you think this is going so far?

Not bad, right?

Not bad.

His father wordlessly handed each of them a can of Sleeman beer. He lingered in front of Ilya, but returned to his place on the couch without saying anything.

“I just…” Mom said. “I just can’t believe any of this is real.”

“I know,” Shane said.

“All this time,” Dad said quietly, almost to himself. “You’ve been holding this secret inside. The whole time.”

“You didn’t ever…” His mom sounded suddenly horrified. “You didn’t ever let him win, did you, Shane?”

“God, Mom! No!”

Ilya laughed. “He does not need to let me win.”

“I would never,” Shane said quickly. “The team comes first. Always. And besides, I like beating him.”

Mom was frowning at him, not quite believing his words.

“When you and Dad play Yahtzee, do you let him win?” Shane asked desperately.

“Never,” Mom smiled, maybe understanding. She seemed to relax.

“Is your plan to just keep doing this? Keeping this a secret? Until you retire? Forever?” Dad asked.

“Maybe. I mean, yes. Probably.”

“Oh, Shane.” His mother looked so sad.

Dad shook his head. “Honestly? I don’t see another way. I wish I did.”

“I know,” Shane said miserably. “We know. It’s not something we can announce.”

“I have to say,” Dad said, “I’m surprised about you, Ilya. You’ve always had such a reputation as a, you know, a ladies’ man.”

“Is not untrue,” Ilya said.

“Ilya likes both,” Shane said.

“Oh,” Mom said. His parents exchanged a concerned look. Shane was about to change the subject—because this was way too uncomfortable—when Ilya spoke.

“I have been with lots of women. That was not…fake. But…” He looked at Shane, and Shane held his breath. “I have only been in love with one person.”

And suddenly Ilya looked very blurry through Shane’s eyes. Shane swallowed down the urge to cry, and said, “Me too. Just one.”

Shane’s mother covered her mouth with her hand. She tapped her fingertips against her upper lip, and Shane knew she was about to go full Yuna Hollander on this situation.

Sure enough, a moment later she clapped her hands together and jumped up from her chair. “All right, so what’s the plan?” she said. “We’ve got a problem, let’s solve it.”

Shane glanced at a bewildered-looking Ilya. He gave him a small smile. They had Yuna on their side now, and Shane couldn’t imagine a better ally.

“First of all,” Yuna said, “have you talked to Scott Hunter?” She said the name like it physically pained her to speak of the evil man who had stolen Olympic gold from her beloved son.

“I have,” Ilya said. “But not about…us.”

“I emailed him,” Shane added. “I just, y’know, said I appreciated his bravery, or whatever. I didn’t tell him about me. Or about Ilya.”

Yuna was tapping her lip again. “He probably couldn’t help. Not with this situation.”

“He would probably be very confused about us,” Ilya said.

“Confused is a word for it,” Dad said. His shock seemed to have ebbed completely, replaced by something that looked a lot like amusement.

“I will say that, what Scott did, when he, um, kissed his boyfriend?” Shane couldn’t believe he was saying this. He hadn’t even told Ilya this. “That changed something inside me. It was…huge. It made me…want to try. Made me want to be braver, and to let myself try to be happy.”

He looked at the floor until he couldn’t bear it anymore, and then he glanced over at Ilya. Ilya’s eyes were softer than he’d ever seen them.

“Yes,” Ilya said. “Me too.”

Shane cleared his throat. “We have one idea.” He told his parents the Ottawa/Montreal plan he’d outlined for Ilya the night before.

“That,” Dad said, considering, “isn’t bad.”

“You would leave Boston?” Mom asked, stunned. “For Shane?”

Ilya didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

She frowned, as if she couldn’t believe anything he was saying was real.

“Oh my god!” Shane exclaimed. “You’re actually conflicted, aren’t you, Mom?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re bothered by his lack of loyalty to his team!”

“Well!” Mom said, as if that was a perfectly reasonable way to react to the fact that Ilya was so madly in love with her son that he was willing to throw his whole life into upheaval.

Shane turned to Ilya. “My mom, by the way, cares about hockey a little too much.”

Ilya snorted. “Now I know where you get it.”

Shane was about to flip him off, but remembered his parents. And then it all kind of hit him: his parents were here. With Ilya. The secret was out and they were all talking about Shane and Ilya as a couple.

And Shane suddenly felt a little light-headed.

It was all happening so fast: their confessions of love, being discovered by his parents, making plans for the future…

Oh god oh god oh god.

“Shane?” It was Ilya’s voice, all concern. Shane felt a hand on his shoulder, and then he realized that he had his head between his knees. “Are you okay?”

Shane inhaled and exhaled slowly, keeping his head down.

Ilya’s hand moved to Shane’s knee as he crouched beside him, seeking his eyes. “Shane?”

“I’m okay,” Shane said weakly. “I’m just…freaking out. Don’t worry about me.”

Ilya took his hands and rubbed his thumbs soothingly over the backs of them. “We are good here, yes?” he said. “Your family is here. And your boyfriend. And we are okay here.”

Shane raised his head slightly. “Boyfriend?”

Such a ridiculous word. Such a ridiculous, wonderful word.

Ilya shrugged and grinned. “I think, yes?”

“Yes.”

It was really too bad they were in his parents’ living room, and that his parents were definitely staring at them, because Shane wanted to jump into Ilya’s lap and kiss him into the floor.

“Since their rookie season,” Shane heard his mother say. “I can’t believe it.”

“Looking at them now, I kind of can,” his father said.