Page 106 of The Long Game
“No. Because of the crush on Harris thing. And also he was checking me out a few times.”
Shane exhaled slowly. “I don’t think I like Troy.”
“Why? You have a lot in common. You both are short, gay, and both think I am hot.”
“Your favorite qualities in a man.”
“You are both very pretty. Nice dark hair. Troy also does not have chest hair.”
“Let’s stop talking about Troy Barrett.”
Ilya laughed. “It is cute how you are jealous.”
“I am absolutely not jealous of Troy fucking Barrett.” Except for how Troy got to spend so much time with Ilya, play hockey on the same line as him, and, apparently, check him out in the locker room and go to gay bars with him.
“I only am telling you,” Ilya said in a more serious tone, “because it was nice. To talk about this with someone.”
Wait. “You didn’t tell him aboutus, did you?”
“Of course I didn’t fucking tell him about us!” Then Ilya mumbled something in angry Russian. Shane only caught about half of the words.
“What was that?”
“Only you can tell your friends about us, right? This is how it works?”
“What the hell are you talking about? And since when is Troy your closest friend?”
Ilya exhaled loudly into the phone. “I have to go. Practice soon.”
Shane didn’t understand why they were both so angry, but ending the call before one of them said something they couldn’t take back was probably a good idea. “Fine.” He winced at the bitchiness of his tone, then said, more gently, “Call me after practice?”
“I might be busy having sex with Troy,” Ilya said tightly.
“Ilya...”
“I have to go.”
The call went dead.
Shane slumped against his kitchen counter and started thinking about all the ways that conversation could have gone better.
Ilya didn’t call Shane after practice. Instead he took a nap, ate dinner, and got ready for his game that night against the New York Admirals. The Admirals were the best team in the league, so Shane would understand why Ilya would need to focus.
Not that he cared if Shane understood. Shane certainly hadn’t understood why it had been important for Ilya to tell someone—anyone—that he was bisexual. And why it had felt so good to have his teammate come out to him. How good it felt to be making a new friend, and to have earned that friend’s trust so quickly.
Maybe Ilya shouldn’t have told Shane. Maybe he should have saved all this for his next session with Galina. Not that he would out Troy to his therapist, but he would find a way to talk about it. Galina would understand why this was important to Ilya. She knew how lonely he was.
Jesus. Ilya hadn’t even told Shane that Troy had almost guessed that he and Shane were a couple. It was alarming how quickly Troy had started to put the pieces together in his headonce Ilya had told him he was bisexual. If Shane knew aboutthathe’d probably lose his shit completely.
Ilya carried his bad mood onto the ice that night for the match against the Admirals. At first, his anger seemed useful, pushing him to battle hard and even open the scoring early in the first period. But as the game went on, and as New York kept scoring, Ilya’s anger caused him to take stupid penalties and make costly mistakes.
After the game he’d been quiet and sulky. He hadn’t talked to anyone in the dressing room, and no one had talked to him. Probably because they didn’t want to get snarled at.
That night, there was an unexpected knock on his hotel room door.
“Hey,” Troy said when Ilya opened it. “Thought you might wanna watch a movie or something.”
Ilya took in Troy’s uncertain expression, aware that gestures of friendship were probably outside Troy’s usual comfort zone. Ilya nodded, and stepped back to let him in.
