Page 102 of The Official Problem
Jasper sighed again.
“Next article could be us… Then what?”
The media sharks were circling now. Even with Kieran stepping away, the investigation wouldn’t end. The whole team was under a microscope. Half the country didn’t think the Inferno deserved a playoff spot. There was no room for error. No room for…
“They know we’re married, Ivan.” The lack of emotion in Jasper’s voice shouldn’t have shocked him. Jasper was a damn shark, too. “That’s ridiculous, and you know it. It’s not the same thing.”
“They do not know about him,” Ivan snapped, meeting Jasper’s eyes. Sadness filled them—something Ivan rarely saw.
Uncomfortable with Ivan’s sudden focus, or maybe his words, Jasper shifted on his feet, adjusting his glasses. But he didn’t look away. “No, they don’t.” The words were quiet, almost bitter.
The bed behind them creaked as weight shifted, springs loosening and contracting again.
“And what if they did, hockey player,” that goddamn voice purred. The words raced up Ivan’s spine, igniting every nerve ending as he walked to Ivan’s side. “A chto, yesli oni obo mne uznayut?” What if they found out about me?“Would you walk away from hockey, too?”
His hand rested lightly on Ivan’s shoulder, the touch burning through layers of fabric. “Would you claim me, or would you cast me aside?”
Ivan met those ice-blue eyes.
It was a good question—one he wasn’t sure he had the answer to. Hockey was Ivan’s entire life, the only thing he’d clung to asa child. His ticket out of a country that would’ve thrown him in prison—or worse—if they’d known the truth. Hockey wasn’t just his livelihood; it had been his entire existence for so long.
At thirty-six, it was no secret these were his last years playing. He’d already been asked casually if he’d consider coaching. Ivan was one of the defensive greats. Just because his days suiting up and skating out were ending didn’t mean his relationship with hockey would.
That changed when Jasper was forced into his life, derailing that path and making Ivan question every plan he had.
He looked at his husband, then at the man just over his shoulder. The words were hard to say—not because his English failed, but because Ivan hadn’t found the courage to voice them. To admit them to himself, let alone out loud.
“Alexei,” he started slowly, voice thick. “You should know this by now… I’d do anything for you… for both of you.”
