Page 77 of Heated Rivalry 1
This year, finally, Shane would know what it felt like to playwithIlya Rozanov. Six All-Star Games and this was the first time they had been placed on the same team. Injuries and weird, gimmicky team arrangements that the league kept coming up with had prevented it from happening before.
He wasn’t the only one who was excited about him being Ilya’s teammate. The press was having a field day writing about this monumental event where Shane and Ilya would have to put aside their supposed animosity and learn to work together. Was it evenpossible, they wondered?
Shane smiled to himself as he hung up his suit in the hotel room closet.If they only knew.
But, truthfully, ifheonly knew what Ilya was thinking these days. He wasn’t sure if Ilya wanted to end things, or if he wantedto push things further. He really had no idea what to expect from his temporary teammate this weekend.
He glanced at his watch. The team meet-up downstairs was starting in a few minutes.
Shane blew out a breath, then checked himself in the mirror.
Let’s do this.
Ilya hadn’t texted Hollander in over two months.
Not that they had ever regularly contacted each other before, but this silence had been particularly deafening. The past few weeks had been the first time that Ilya felt sure that, if he texted him, Shane wouldn’t reply.
Shane would probably show the text to his movie star girlfriend, and they would laugh at how pathetic Ilya was.
No. That wouldn’t happen. Of course Shane wouldn’t do that.
Maybe.
Ilya fumbled his package of nicotine gum out of his pocket and popped a piece in his mouth. Had Shane brought his girlfriend to All-Star weekend? Would heintroduceher to Ilya?
God.
Ilya ran out of time to fret, because at that moment, Hollander walked into the bar. Every head turned. Some guys actually stood up, for fuck’s sake.
Ilya leaned against the bar and watched Shane shake hands and clap guys on the back. He watched him smile and laugh with everyone. He looked relaxed and confident, like a man who had gotten his life together. Like a man who didn’t question himself anymore. He looked...
Christ, he looks so fucking good.
Maybe Rose had taken him shopping or something. Suddenly he was dressing like the millionaire he was. He had on a white,button-up linen shirt, open at the collar, with the sleeves rolled up. Theywerein Florida, after all. It was tucked into slate blue pants that fit him perfectly. The outfit was finished with a woven belt and some stylish gray sneakers with no socks.
Ilya was wearing shorts, and a shirt that was covered in palm trees because he’d thought it would be funny. Now he felt like a fucking idiot.
He ordered another drink just so he’d stop staring at Shane.
He cursed himself for feeling so gloomy. It should be a fun weekend; the hotel was a fucking beach resort.
Someone moved into the space next to him at the bar. Without looking, Ilya knew it was Hollander.
“Hey, teammate,” Shane said.
“Hello,Captain,” Ilya said, because Shanehadbeen selected as the captain of their All-Star team. Of course.
Shane flagged the bartender down and Ilya noticed the expensive watch on his wrist. A gift from Rose, maybe?
“So this should be fun, huh?” Shane said. “Always wondered what it would be like to play on the same team.”
“Have you?”
“Nice that it’s in Florida this year, eh?”
“Mm.”
Shane’s beer arrived and Ilya watched him take a long haul off the bottle. He watched his throat work as he swallowed.
