Page 133 of Heated Rivalry 1
Shane smiled a little. “Yeah, well. It’s not true now. I think it’s safe to say that, right?”
“Sure.”
“There are going to be new players—younger players—and new rivalries will form. Do we really need to keep this dance up until we both retire?”
Ilya’s brow furrowed. “Is very late, Hollander. This is a lot of English. What is your idea?”
“You play for Ottawa, I play for Montreal. Those cities are two hours apart. We start a charity together, you and me. Something that benefits both cities. So now people see us working together on something. We make up some story about how I approached you with this idea, and—”
“Or I approached you.”
“Whatever. The point is, we tell the press, the fans, everyone, that by working together on the cause that means so much to both of us, we have developed a mutual respect for each other...”
“Yes. And also we are fucking each other. Any questions?”
“Fuckoff! This is a great idea, Rozanov!”
Ilya laughed. Shane hit him with a pillow.
“Is not bad,” Ilya finally conceded. “So we start this charity...”
“And it wouldn’t be bullshit either. I’ve been wanting to start one anyway. We’ll do something that means a lot to both of us.”
“Yes. Okay.”
“We still play hard against each other on the ice, obviously. I mean, I am never going to stop enjoying beating your ass.”
Ilya snorted. “Sure.”
“And...like I said. We’re two hours away from each other. All year.”
He wanted Ilya to see this vision as clearly as he could. It seemed tantalizingly possible. Easy, even.
“And you’d be in Canada. And you could apply for citizenship eventually.”
“Yes. I understand that part.”
“And maybe...someday. When we both retire. We can...be together. For real.”
Ilya looked stunned by that part. “You really think that far ahead, Hollander?”
“I do about this.”
“You want that? To be together?”
“I do. So much it terrifies me.”
Ilya turned his face away from Shane, and was silent. Cold dread flooded Shane’s stomach; he had admitted too much.
But Ilya turned back and quickly rolled on top of Shane and was kissing him and kissing him and kept murmuring the same thing in Russian over and over again until he pulled back and translated:
“I love you.”
Shane froze. And then Ilya froze.
“Holy shit,” Shane whispered. It wasn’t how he had meant to respond.
“I...” Ilya’s eyes were so wide and so scared.
