Page 1 of The Long Game
Chapter One
July
Shane had never wanted anything so badly in his life. His goal was right in front of him, and nothing would stop him from reaching it.
“You wish, Hollander,” called a hoarse voice behind him.
Shane felt like his chest was going to explode, but he huffed and pushed himself harder, refusing to give up. The pounding of sneakers on the trail and of Shane’s own heartbeat almost drowned out the laughter behind him. Shane tried to ignore it all as he focused on the trail exit just ahead.
Suddenly, Ilya was right beside him, drenched in sweat, T-shirt balled up in one fist. Ilya winked at him before speeding past him like a cartoon character. Shane grunted in frustration and tried to catch up, but Ilya’s long legs and seemingly superhuman stamina were making it impossible.
Ilya reached the end of the trail first, arms raised in victory. Then he collapsed on a grassy patch at the edge of the small parking lot.
Shane stumbled over to him, gasping and swearing. He put his hands on his knees as he waited for breathing to stop being painful.
“Fuck,” he wheezed, “you.”
Ilya flopped onto his back, shaking with laughter. He mopped at his forehead with the damp shirt he was holding. “I almost let you win.”
“Liar.”
“The view was not bad. From behind. Almost worth staying there.”
Shane didn’t know how his boyfriend was able to speak in full sentences. “Shut up.”
“I like those little shorts.”
Shane laughed, but it sounded more like a steam engine puffing. “Thanks.”
Ilya pulled himself up to rest on his elbows. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, rolling it gently from side to side. His hair was soaked, curls sticking to his face and neck, and his chest glistened with sweat. The crucifix he always wore around his neck was resting on his shoulder.
Shane dropped to his knees beside him. “I hate that you can outrun me like that. It doesn’t make sense.”
Ilya opened one eye. “Maybe you should eat carbs.”
“I eathealthycarbs.”
“You eat nothing.”
“Yousmoke.”
“Almost never.”
“You had a cigarettelast night.”
“How do you know?”
“I have a nose.”
Ilya booped the tip of Shane’s nose. “A cute one.”
Shane tried to glare at him, but he couldn’t keep it up. Not when Ilya was smiling at him like that. Instead, he gently adjusted Ilya’s crucifix, moving it to rest in the middle of his chest.
“So you like the shorts, huh?” They were a shorter style than the basketball ones he usually wore to work out in. Something new Shane was trying. His hair was longer than it had ever been too. He’d grown it out during the playoffs, and Ilya had protested when Shane had suggested it was time to get it cut. He’d let Shane shave his terrible, patchy excuse for a playoff beard, though.
Ilya traced the hem of one leg of the shorts where it was pulled tight against Shane’s thigh. “I think your dick would rip right through these if you got hard.”
Oh wow. Yikes. Shane glanced around. They were the only ones in the parking lot, which was secluded by thick trees on all sides, but they were still in public. “Let’s not test that here.”
