Page 107 of The Long Game
Twenty minutes into the climate disaster action movie Ilya had found on television, Troy said, “Even when I played for Toronto, we hardly ever beat the Admirals.”
Ilya just grunted.
“I wish Scott Hunter wasn’t such a decent guy,” Troy continued. “I’d love to just hate him, y’know?”
“You wish he wasn’t hot,” Ilya said.
Troy’s eyes widened in surprise, as if he’d forgotten that he’d come out to Ilya already. Then he huffed out a laugh and said, “Yeah. That too.”
Ilya smiled for the first time in hours.
They watched the movie in silence for a while, then Ilya blurted out, “I am a shitty captain.”
“What? No you’re not.”
“Anyone on the team would be a better captain than me.”
“As if,” Troy scoffed. “I’ll bet you’ve been captain of every team you’ve ever played for.”
Well. Yes. “Does not matter. I am a bad captain for this team. Now.”
“No way. You’re a fucking legend. All the young guys idolized you growing up, and they still do.Ifucking idolized you, man.”
This time Ilya scoffed. “I am not so much older than you, Barrett.”
“I just mean, when I played junior, everyone wanted to be like you. Guys like Hunter and Hollander, they’re amazing, but you look like you’re having fun out there, y’know? You’re a leader, but you’re also, like, cool.”
Ilya’s eyebrows shot up. “Cool?”
Troy’s lips curled into something that was almost a smile. “Compared to Hunter and Hollander.”
Ilya laughed out loud, which made Troy laugh. “Wow,” Ilya said. “Is that a compliment?”
“Totally.”
“I am hotter than them too.”
Troy raked his gaze over Ilya appraisingly, and for an uncomfortable moment, Ilya thought he may have come here to seduce him. Then Troy wrinkled his nose and said, “Meh. I wouldn’t say that.”
They both laughed again, and Ilya hit him with a pillow.
“I am no Harris,” Ilya teased.
Troy’s cheeks darkened. “Shut up.”
“Why? Is cute.”
“It’s embarrassing. I can’t believe you know about that.” Troy buried his face in the pillow Ilya had hit him with.
“Harris should know about it,” Ilya said.
“No way. Never.”
“That is dumb. He is nuts about you.”
“Well, thenhe’sdumb.” Troy settled the pillow in his lap, then started nervously kneading it with one hand. “You think he likes me, though?”
“I am never wrong about these things.” He wasn’t lying. Ilya had always been an expert at detecting when someone was attracted to him, or to anyone else. Harris was definitely crushing on Troy.
