Page 135 of The Long Game
Scott eyed him suspiciously. “Okay?”
“Yes. And bring Kip. We go out at night sometimes and have fun. Ryan Price brings his boyfriend.”
Scott’s face relaxed a bit. “Kip said he’d like to see Montreal.”
Ilya gasped. “Ottawa is also good!”
“Yeah, but Montreal is Montreal.”
Ilya couldn’t argue that. He glanced across the room and spotted Shane, talking to Colorado’s team captain, Matheson. Shane was wearing that sexy silk T-shirt that Rose bought him—the one that was practically transparent—and Ilya had been stealing glances at him all night.
Ilya briefly rubbed his own chest, searching for and finding the round outline of the ring hidden under his shirt.
“How is married life?” he asked.
Scott’s expression shifted back to suspicious. “Good...”
“You are happy? Kip is happy?”
“Last I heard.”
Ilya raised his eyebrows.
“This morning!” Scott clarified. “I was talking to him this morning! He was going to come with me, actually, but he’s doing some volunteer work in Brooklyn this weekend instead.”
“Nice of him.”
“Yeah,” Scott said defensively. “He’snice.”
“Good.” Ilya took a drink of beer. Shane was laughing at something Matheson said. His eyes were all crinkled. “Is Kip happy you are retiring this year?”
“Fuck off. I’mnotretiring this year.”
Ilya widened his eyes in mock surprise. “No? But your body is so old!”
“Okay,” Scott said, and began to stand. “Good night, Rozanov.”
“Do you remember where your room is?”
“Shut up.”
“Do you need help?”
Scott kept walking and didn’t reply. Ilya couldn’t help but admire his hulking body as Scott walked away. In all honesty, he looked like he could play hockey for many years to come.
Ilya finished his beer, then stood. He caught Shane’s eye right away, and nodded in the direction of the elevators. Shane gave the barest suggestion of a nod in reply, which was enough.
Shane rode the elevator with a Finnish rookie from Vancouver—the same one who’d been in the fastest skater competition—who Shane didn’t know at all. He seemed to be more interested in his phone than in Shane, though. Shane gave him a brief, friendly smile, then stared straight ahead at the elevator doors.
The All-Star Weekend was always fun, but also a little exhausting between the interviews and the events and the socializing with other players. The weekends also involved a lot of high-risk sneaking around, which was stressful. Well, stressful and a bit sexually thrilling, if Shane was being honest. It had been hard to focus on anything Matheson had been saying to him because Ilya had been sitting across the room, drinking a beer and looking so fucking hot that Shane had been internally struggling to tamp down an erection for the past half hour.
Shane went to his own room first. Partially because the rookie was still walking behind him, and partially because he wanted to freshen up a bit.
When he pulled his phone out of his pocket he saw a text from Ilya:Where are you?
Shane smiled to himself and decided not to reply. He liked an impatient Ilya.
Once Shane had changed, brushed his teeth, fixed his hair, and had gotten himself clean everywhere he wanted to be clean, he made his way to Ilya’s room down the hall.
