Page 98 of Role Model

Oh.

Harris managed a shaky smile. “Happy to help.”

“I know. It’s one of the things I love about you.” His eyes went wide. “I mean—thanks.”

He jogged away before Harris could reply.

“Oh man,” Harris muttered to his patched-up heart. “I think this guy might destroy us.”

Chapter Twenty

Shane Hollander shoved Ilya hard against the glass, and Troy almost laughed at the way Ilya was grinning about it. Ilya shoved Hollander back, which made Hollander’s linemate, Hayden Pike, step in.

Which made Troy join the pile. He got there just in time to hear Ilya roasting Pike.

“You still play hockey?” Ilya asked.

“Don’t even start, Rozanov.”

“Why are you even here?” Ilya pushed Pike’s chest, forcing the other man away. “I am talking to my friend Hollander.”

“Leave him alone, Rozanov,” Shane growled. “And back the fuck up.”

Troy was holding Pike’s arm, but Pike wasn’t making any moves toward Ilya. Troy heard him mumble, “I’m so sick of this weird bullshit.”

Troy wasn’t sure what that meant.

Ilya moved away from Hollander and said, “We can catch up at the All-Star game this weekend.” He turned to Pike. “The All-Star game is a special match played between the best players in the league.”

Troy snickered, and Pike gave Hollander a look that Troy would call pleading. “Can I please stab him?”

“No one is stabbing anyone,” the ref barked.

“Not yet,” Ilya said, somewhat silkily and in Hollander’s direction.

Hollander’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t say anything. Just skated away, taking Pike with him. Ilya watched him go.

“I thought you guys were friends,” Troy said.

“Off the ice, yes.”

Troy supposed it wasn’t that different from how Ilya treated Scott Hunter when they played against each other. Maybe it was a sign of respect if Ilya gave you shit on the ice. He mostly used to ignore Troy, when they’d played against each other.

In the end, Ottawa beat Montreal 5-3, adding another win to their streak that was now a team record: nine straight games. It felt incredible. Once again, the dressing room was a party, this time with the added excitement of a whole week off ahead of them.

“Ilya’s in a good mood,” Troy observed.

Ilya was sort of half dancing to the loud hip-hop music that was playing in the dressing room, randomly clapping his hands and cheerfully congratulating everyone.

“Oh yeah,” Wyatt agreed. “He’s always in a good mood when we beat Montreal. I guess being Shane Hollander’s friend doesn’t stop him from loving to destroy him on the ice.”

“Guess not.”

Ilya and Wyatt were heading to the All-Star weekend in Anaheim tomorrow. Troy hadn’t been invited to the All-Star game this year, obviously. Based on the commissioner’s feelings about him, he’d probably never be invited again. But he really didn’t care. Harris had basically asked him on a date, and that was a much more exciting invitation.

In truth, Troy didn’t even want to watch the All-Star game, let alone participate in it. Dallas Kent would be there, and the commissioner. And probably a bunch of players who thought Troy was a traitor.

“Looking forward to the All-Star game?” he asked Wyatt.

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