Page 145 of Heated Rivalry 1
Fortunately, Ilya had packed just the thing for this situation.
He went to the freezer and pulled out the bottle of vodka he had stashed there the day he’d arrived. It was the good shit, distilled in small batches and impossible to buy outside of Russia. He grabbed two glasses and carried them and the bottle outside.
“Is maybe a good time for this,” he said, holding up the bottle.
Shane turned warily, and snorted when he saw the vodka. “The last time I drank that stuff was in Las Vegas. You remember?”
“Yes,” Ilya said, carefully pouring a couple of inches into each glass. “But you did not ever drinkthisstuff. This vodka is special.” He handed Shane one of the glasses.
Ilya closed his eyes as he took his first sip, enjoying the contrast of the frigid temperature of the liquid and the fire of the alcohol as it slid down his throat. Perfect.
He opened his eyes when he heard Shane sputtering and coughing.
“Oh, wow,” Shane said. “That isstrong. I might need some cranberry juice or something.”
“If you mix that with cranberry juice I will drown you in the lake.”
But Shane, seemingly unable to concentrate at all, was already taking a second sip. “This has been the weirdest day of my life.”
Ilya wanted to tell Shane that it had been one of thebestdays ofhislife. It had been awkward, sure, but Ilya felt that, if he hadn’t quite been already, hewouldbe welcomed into Shane’s family, and that was no small thing. In fact, to Ilya, who had barely been welcome in hisownfamily, it was huge.
He wanted to tell Shane that the closest he felt to home was when he was with him. It didn’t matter if it was in a hotel room, or Ilya’s apartment, or at that weird hideout building Shanebought in Montreal, or here at Shane’s cottage; he was himself when he was with Shane. He’d left Russia, he was uneasy in America, and he’d spent his entire adult life drifting between continents and between lovers.
But now he had been reeled in by this annoying Canadian, and all that he knew was that he wanted to stay. He wanted to anchor himself to Shane and just...stay.
He couldn’tsayany of that—literally, he could not possibly come up with the English words to articulate any of the things he was feeling at that moment. So instead he plucked the vodka glass from Shane’s hand and sat it on the table next to his own. Maybe alcoholwasn’tthe thing Shane needed right now.
He wrapped Shane in his arms, and held him. He nuzzled into Shane’s hair and breathed him in.
“I love you,” he murmured, because hecouldsaythat. After so fucking long he could finally say that.
Shane tilted his head up and studied Ilya’s face with questioning eyes. “I love you too,” he said. “Are you all right?”
Ilya nodded, and leaned in to kiss him.
It was exactly how Ilya had secretly always wanted to kiss Shane: a shameless display of adoration and care. Their tongues slowly caressing as Ilya held Shane’s face in his hands and brushed his hair with his fingertips.
His heart flipped and tumbled helplessly around in his chest. There would be no going back from this. From any of this.
“I keep thinking about logistics,” Shane said when they broke apart, as if Ilya hadn’t just poured his heart into that kiss. “Like, the earliest you would be in Ottawa would be the season after next, when your contract is done with Boston, right?”
Ilya didnotwant to talk about any of this right now.
“Yes. Probably.” He nibbled behind Shane’s ear, hoping to distract him.
“So just over a year from now you’re in Ottawa, and then we wait, what, another whole season until we announce the charity? It would have to be that long, right?”
“Mm,” Ilya said. He really didn’t care.
“So that’s a year and a half or so until we can announce the charity. Which is the same as announcing our friendship,” Shane said as Ilya slid his hands into the back of his shorts and pulled him closer.
“And then what?” Shane continued. “How many more years do you think you’ll be playing?”
“Fuck, Hollander,” Ilya groaned. “I don’t fucking know.”
“I’m just trying to get an idea of how long we’ll be—what are you doing?”
Ilya had dropped to his knees, and he felt it was pretty obvious what he was doing.
