“So how are things?” Rose asked once they were at a patio table with their bowls. “With…y’know?”
“Great,” Shane said quickly. “Really great.”
“Yeah? No plans to go public?”
“Not really, no.”
“You okay with that?”
Shane took advantage of the fact that he’d just popped a chunk of tuna in his mouth and took his time answering. Most days, he thought he was fine with hiding. They had a long-range plan, and Shane wanted to stick to it. That was easy, and organized. And safe. But some days…
“It would be nice to be open about our relationship. Most of the time the hiding doesn’t bother me, but sometimes the unfairness of it all makes me furious. The other guys on the team get to talk about their wives and girlfriends, and have them come to team events and stuff. They have kids and, I don’t know, lives beyond hockey that they can be proud of. I want that.”
“And what does he want?”
“I don’t know. The same, I think.” Shane nudged some fish around with his chopsticks. The restaurant had allowed him to substitute the rice for extra kale, which was nice, but also sucked. “He said he wants to wait, but he’s also said he’d come out anytime, if I wanted it.”
Rose reached across the table and poked him in the arm. “He loves you so much!”
Shane turned the color of his raw tuna. “I know. I’m lucky.”
“Do you want my advice? As a person whose entire life is under a microscope?”
“Sure.”
“Do what makes you happy. Live how you want, love who you want. People will judge you, hate you, criticize you, but plenty more will support you and love you. And, in the end, no one matters except the people you care about. Your parents support you, your best friends support you. Who are you really worried about?”
“I don’t know. The league? The fans? My teammates?”
“Your teammates know you’re gay, though, right?”
Shane nodded.
“Anyone being an asshole about it?”
“No. I mean, I can tell some of them don’t love it, but they keep quiet about it. I don’t know if even the openly supportive guys would be okay with me and, um…y’know.”
“What about your agent? Does your agent know?”
“We told her in the summer.”
“Good. You want your agent on your side if things go sideways. Trust me.”
Shane picked up a chunk of fish, then put it down. “Do you think things will go sideways? Are people going to figure us out?”
She smiled sadly at him. “I’m not saying it’s impossible for you guys to keep this secret for as long as you want to, but…”
“Not likely?”
She wrinkled her nose and shook her head. “Sorry, buddy.”
Shane sighed. “Then we should make a plan B, I guess.”
“I’d recommend it. Always plan for the worst and hope for the best.”
Damn. Shane really didn’t want to have to think about the possibility of their relationship being outed. Not more than he already thought about it, anyway.
“What about you?” he asked, hoping to change the subject. “You seeing anyone?”
“Nah. I sort of had a thing going with a pro surfer, but he was a lot. Always wanted to talk about deep shit for hours. It was intense. And boring.”
“Sorry.”
“I think I want to find a nice, normal guy, y’know? No celebrities. I want to meet, like, a bookstore owner.”
“Isn’t that the exact plot of a movie? I swear I watched a movie like that with my parents.”
Rose laughed. “You’re right! That’s Notting Hill. Okay, not a bookstore. Maybe a…flower shop. There. Totally different.”
“I wish I knew a nice flower shop owner. I’d introduce you.”
“Keep your eyes open. I’d also accept a baker. I love bread.”
“I miss bread,” Shane said wistfully.
“God, I’ll bet. Is it worth it, though? Does the clean eating make you feel better?”
Shane frowned at his bowl of kale. “I keep saying it does, but it might be the discipline that makes me feel better, not the food.”
Rose’s mouth dropped open in exaggerated shock. “Wow. This just turned into therapy.”
“Sorry. Ignore me.”
“No way. Tell me all about how much you like discipline.”
“Shut up. It’s not a sex thing.”
“Hm.”
“It’s not! I like to practice discipline and self-control, and be rewarded for it. That’s all.”
“That still sounds like it could be a sex thing.”
Shane rolled his eyes. “Eat your poke.”
“Is that an order, sir?” she asked in a husky voice.
“Holy fuck! That doesn’t even make sense. Wouldn’t I be the submissive one in this fantasy you’re making up?”
Rose cackled while Shane wished he could disappear. The truth was, he did like it when he and Ilya played a bit with discipline in the bedroom. Shane wasn’t into punishment, or shame, but he loved it when Ilya made things…challenging. And then rewarded Shane for it.
“I’m sorry,” Rose said gleefully. “You’re just so fun to tease.”
“I’ve been told.”
Late in the afternoon, Rose dropped Shane off at his hotel. She hugged him as they stood next to her car and told him she’d be at his game the next night.
“Oh yeah?” Shane said.
“I’ll be in a box, wearing a Montreal jersey.”
“That’ll cause a scene.”
“Maybe the paps will think we’re back together.”
Well, that wouldn’t hurt. Except Ilya would never let him hear the end of it. “I’ll see you…someday,” Shane said. His heart felt heavy. He really wished she lived closer to him.
“Soon,” she promised. “I fly to Romania on Monday to start shooting a movie that I already know will be terrible, but maybe we can meet up somewhere after that.”
“Definitely.”
She hugged him again and said, quietly against his ear, “Say hi to Ilya for me.”
“Okay.”
“And come up with a backup plan.”
“I will.”
As he watched her drive away, a ball of tension formed inside his stomach, expanding into his chest. There was no backup plan. If he and Ilya were found out, they were fucked.
“Guess what,” Ilya said as soon as Shane accepted his FaceTime request. It was the next morning—early in L.A., almost lunchtime in Ottawa—and Shane was still in bed.
“What?”
“We are getting a team puppy! Harris told us today at practice.”
“Oh. Cute.”
Ilya looked perfect, sitting on his deck in the early-autumn sunshine. He was wearing a black sweater that looked soft and cozy, and his jaw was covered in thick stubble. The sunlight made his golden-brown hair gleam. “He is too small right now, but when he is old enough he will come to the arena to visit!”
“You gonna let anyone else play with him, or…”
“Maybe. Good game last night.” He lifted a McDonald’s cup and took a long sip of something that was, at best, Coke, but could possibly be a chocolate shake. Shane decided to ignore it.