Well. Ilya couldn’t argue with that. His own team wasn’t going to be winning cups anytime soon. He made a mental note to wear Shane’s identical ball cap tomorrow, because it would make Hayden furious, and said, “You lead the next passing drill. You are good at passing.”
Hayden’s eyes narrowed, as if he was analyzing Ilya’s words, searching for the insult. Finally, cautiously, he said, “I am good at passing. I lead Montreal in assists.”
“I know. That is why I said it.”
“Okay then.”
“Okay.”
Hayden studied him another moment, then nodded and skated away. Ilya hadn’t realized how much fun it would be to confuse Hayden with compliments. He would have to do it more often.
Ilya couldn’t help but notice that the reporter guy Shane was talking to was very…attractive. Ilya tried to keep his focus on the kids he was coaching, but his gaze kept drifting back to where Shane was standing just behind the glass in one corner. Even from here, Ilya could see the flirtatious smiles the man was giving Shane.
Or maybe they were just regular smiles and Ilya was being ridiculous.
“Mr. Rozanov?”
He dragged his attention away from his boyfriend and the handsome stranger and looked down at the girl in front of him.
“Ilya,” he corrected her, warmly. “Is something wrong, Chloe?”
“No. I just, um…” She glanced down at her skates, which she was shuffling nervously.
Ilya crouched down. “Yes?”
“I keep missing backhand passes. Not just in the drill, but, like, all the time. Do you know what I’m doing wrong?”
Ilya smiled. “We will try some and see what the problem is.”
He spent the next fifteen minutes sending passes to Chloe, and correcting her stick placement when she was receiving them. By the end of it, she was beaming with pride as she easily accepted a bunch of consecutive passes from him, and Ilya had barely glanced in Shane’s direction.
As Chloe joined the group that J.J. had called to center ice, Ilya took a peek and saw the handsome man laughing with Shane about something. And then the fucker placed a hand on Shane’s arm.
There was no good reason for Ilya to skate down the ice with one of the pucks and fire it at the glass behind Shane’s head, but he did it anyway. He could hear Shane scream, and Ilya laughed when he whipped around, eyes flashing with fury.
“Asshole!” Shane yelled.
Ilya gestured with his stick toward the children on the ice and shook his head. “Language, Hollander.”
Things were tense between them for the rest of the day. Ilya couldn’t even apologize because Shane wouldn’t talk to him. Not that he felt like apologizing; he just wanted Shane to stop being mad about it.
And Ilya wanted to stop feeling embarrassed about doing it. It had been immature and petty and unprofessional. He still didn’t want to apologize, though.
They had a debriefing, of sorts, at the end of the day with Yuna in the room they all used as an office. Shane didn’t even look at Ilya for the entire conversation. When Yuna left, Ilya braced himself for Shane’s fury.
The storm started with Shane loudly shuffling papers for no reason. Then he crossed his arms, huffed, and stared at the wall opposite Ilya.
Ilya couldn’t stand it. He’d rather Shane unleash whatever anger he had inside him so they could move on. Fortunately, he was an expert when it came to making Shane unleash his anger.
“What is the problem?” Ilya asked.
Shane spun to face him, eyes glinting. “The problem is that I’m trying to run a camp with a fucking toddler.”
“Is this about the puck thing?” Ilya asked innocently.
“It’s about you having to always make me look like an idiot!”
“Come on.”
“Why’d you do it? Because Laurent’s handsome?”
“Laurent.” Ilya took a triumphant step toward him. “So you are attracted to him.”
“What? No. I mean, yes. He’s nice to look at but—”
“And he liked looking at you.”
Shane paused at that, and his cheeks pinked in a way that Ilya normally loved. He was not so into it now. “As if,” Shane said. “You weren’t even there.”
“I could tell.”
Shane was only inches away from him now, his head tilted back so he could glare directly at Ilya despite their height difference. “You almost gave me a heart attack with that stupid puck, and why? Because you thought I was flirting?”
Ilya huffed. “You do not know how to flirt.”
Shane’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Ilya.”
Ilya looked away. “I was jealous, maybe.”
“Keep going.”
“I… It was stupid, okay? I am not proud.”
When he turned his gaze back to Shane, he found him smiling at him, but not in a nice way. More in a victorious, smug way. “What did you really think was going to happen?”
Ilya shrugged. “Maybe you would think he was nice. Hot. Not a rival hockey player.” He was terrified that one day Shane would realize he could be with someone who wasn’t a dark secret. That it could be easy to love someone.
Shane exhaled loudly, his exasperation clear. “I have spent the whole day trying not to—” His eyes darted to the door, which was ajar, likely realizing how loudly he was talking. He dropped his voice to a near whisper. “Trying not to be obvious about how fucking in love with you I am.”
“Shane—”
“No. Shut up. If you really don’t get that I’m not going to leave you for the first cute guy who smiles at me, then I don’t know what we’re even doing, Ilya.”
“I’m sorry,” Ilya said, because suddenly he really was. “Was a weird day. I was maybe just…” He sighed. “I’m sorry.”
Shane rested a hand on Ilya’s chest. “I’m yours. You know that.”
“I know.” Ilya found himself leaning in for a kiss, completely forgetting where they were.
He remembered slightly too late.
“Oh god,” said a voice from the doorway. “Not again.”
Ryan Price was filling the doorway with his massive body, looking mortified.
“We weren’t!” Shane said quickly. “We were just talking.”
Ryan glanced between them, which wasn’t hard to do because they were practically stuck together. “Okay.”
Ilya took a step back, and very calmly said, “Can we help you with something?”
“The, uh, news guys are packing up and wanted to talk to you. I ran into them on my way out.”
“Thanks.” Shane sounded like he wanted to die. “We’ll be right there.”
Ryan nodded again. “Okay. Well. See you tomorrow.” He darted away before either Shane or Ilya could respond.
“I like that guy,” Ilya said.
“Me too. And I like that he can keep a secret.”
“Yes. Maybe we can go out this week with him and his Fabian.”
“What, like a double date?”
“Sure. Why not?” They’d had Hayden Pike and his wife, Jackie, over to Shane’s house a few times. And they’d gone to the Pikes’ house once, which had been fun because Ilya had been able to play with their four awesome kids and ignore Hayden. But they’d never hung out together with another queer couple. Not one that knew about their relationship. Ilya thought it might be…neat.