The Long Game: A Gay Sports Romance (Game Changers Book 6)
The Long Game: Chapter 12

Shane was shocked to replace it was morning when he opened his eyes. He didn’t remember falling asleep, but he must have been wiped out after the game and the mind-blowing sex.

God, and the edging. That had been hot as hell.

He could hear Ilya snoring softly behind him, one strong arm draped loosely over Shane’s waist. Shane smiled and snuggled back against him, sighing happily. He was hard, and he could feel that Ilya was too, but he could ignore that for now. Sex was great, but moments like this one, where they could cuddle and caress and just exist alone together in a quiet room, were Shane’s favorite thing.

Shane was normally an early riser, and followed a strict routine every morning. But instead of jumping out of bed and into some running clothes, this morning he succumbed to the comfort of being held by the man he loved, and dozed off.

He was awoken sometime later by Ilya trailing kisses along his shoulder.

“Good morning,” Shane mumbled.

“It is,” Ilya agreed.

Shane rolled to his back and gazed up at Ilya, rumpled and sleepy and gorgeous in the morning light. “We have the whole day together.”

Ilya smiled. “And night.”

“What do you want to do?”

“I want you to brush your teeth, because you won’t let me kiss you until you do.”

“You have to brush yours too,” Shane was quick to add.

“Yes, yes.” Ilya lifted Shane’s hand to his mouth and kissed his knuckles.

“And we have to shower.”

“I know. But then I want to make you a gross, healthy breakfast.” He kissed Shane’s palm. “And I want to spend the whole day touching you.”

“Okay.”

They brushed their teeth, then made out in the shower together. They were both in good moods, smiling and laughing easily. Ilya made poached eggs with sliced up fruit while Shane made protein smoothies and coffee.

“That ESPN doc about us airs next week,” Shane said.

“Yes.”

“You think it’ll be weird watching that?”

Ilya shrugged. “Maybe.”

“I think my interviews were terrible. I was so awkward.”

“Of course you were.”

“Answering so many questions about you, and our, y’know, professional relationship. While hiding our actual relationship. It was tough.”

“Mm.”

Shane held out a mug of coffee, which Ilya took. Then, as casually as possible, Shane asked, “What did you say about me?”

Ilya chuckled and went to the fridge to get some of the coffee cream that Shane had bought specifically for him. “Watch the documentary and replace out.”

Shane let out a long, exasperated breath. “Just tell me one thing.”

“No.”

Shane glared at him, then stomped angrily over to the kitchen table. “Fine.”

Ilya put the cream away and headed for the sugar bowl. “I said you come really fast when I suck your balls.”

Shane threw a strawberry at him. “You’re an idiot. And it’s not even that fast.”

“Okay.”

They sat at the table together, and Ilya sniffed his smoothie with open disgust on his face.

“It’s packed with protein and nutrients,” Shane promised him. Ilya didn’t seem to think that was a good enough reason to drink it. He set it aside and went for the eggs instead.

“I said nice things about you,” Shane said as he watched Ilya devour his eggs.

“Did you?” He sounded disinterested, but Shane knew it was a front.

“Yup.” Shane sipped his smoothie, and waited.

“What did you say?” Ilya said.

Shane smiled. “You’ll have to watch and see.”

Ilya huffed. “Fine.”

The triumph of victory didn’t last long. Shane poked at his eggs and said, somewhat pathetically, “I wish you’d tell me one thing you said.”

“Why?” Ilya snapped, his voice loud and sharp enough to startle Shane. “Was boring. I could not say any of the things I wanted to say. I said you were a great hockey player. A nice guy. Very competitive. All of the shit that any of your teammates could have said.” Ilya sighed loudly, then continued in a quieter tone. “When you watch it, this is what you will see. Me saying nothing. I wanted to say you are fucking everything to me. Everything. Okay?”

Shane swallowed hard. “Oh.”

He wasn’t sure, after years of being together, how he could still be surprised by the depths of what Ilya felt for him. By the plain, unguarded way Ilya would occasionally reveal what he held in his heart. Maybe English being Ilya’s second language made it harder to dress up his feelings with fancy words, but the raw honesty left Shane thunderstruck every time.

Ilya let out a shaky breath. “But I am still not drinking that smoothie.”

Shane laughed, glad to be rid of some of the tension that had built inside him. Then, quietly, he said, “You’re everything to me too.”

Ilya held his gaze for a long moment, and Shane thought his eyes looked a bit sad. Then Ilya said, “Of course.”

An hour later, they were tangled up together on Shane’s couch. Shane couldn’t even remember the planned activity that had brought them here—watching a movie? video games?—because it had been instantly shoved aside in favor of kissing. Shane was straddling Ilya’s lap, facing him, and kissing him while he held his face in both hands.

“I missed you so fucking much,” Shane murmured against Ilya’s lips.

Ilya squeezed his ass, and kissed him hungrily. They were both fully clothed and hard as hell, but neither was in a hurry to escalate things. Maybe they’d keep kissing and caressing each other until neither of them could stand it anymore, then Ilya would bend him over the sofa and rim him and finger him until Shane was begging for it.

Shane groaned thinking about it, which made Ilya laugh.

“What?” Ilya asked.

“Nothing.” Then, he gathered up some courage and said, “Thinking about you fucking me.”

Ilya licked Shane’s Adam’s apple. “I am thinking about it too.”

Shane’s phone rang on the coffee table behind them.

“Don’t answer it,” Ilya said.

Shane turned and grabbed the phone. “It’s Hayden.”

“Then definitely don’t answer it.”

Shane noticed that he also had a bunch of missed texts from Hayden. He answered the phone while Ilya thunked his forehead against Shane’s chest.

“What’s up, Hayden?”

“Thank Christ,” Hayden said. “Listen, Jackie broke her ankle.”

“No, I didn’t!” Shane heard Jackie yell in the background.

“Well, it’s sprained or something. She tripped on a toy and I have to take her to the hospital.”

“Shit,” Shane said. “Sorry to hear that. I hope she’s okay.”

“Me too. But, like, can you babysit the kids until we’re back?”

Shane’s gaze met Ilya’s. He could tell immediately that Ilya had heard the entire conversation. Normally Shane loved hanging out with Hayden’s four kids, but today was supposed to be just for him and Ilya.

But Ilya smiled excitedly and nodded.

“Sure, no problem. But, um…Ilya is here.”

“Oh,” Hayden said. “Sorry. You’re probably, like, making up for lost time, right?”

Gross. “No, it’s fine. We can do it. I’m just saying, Ilya is coming too.”

Hayden exhaled loudly into the phone. “How soon can you get here?”

Ilya had been to the Pikes’ house only once before, for an olive branch in the form of a barbecue. He’d suspected at the time that it had been Jackie’s idea more than Hayden’s.

Jackie, who at the moment was lying on the Pikes’ large sectional sofa with her right foot resting on a stack of pillows. An ice pack was draped over her ankle. “Hi, Ilya,” she said.

“Tripped over a toy?”

She rolled her eyes. “I tripped over Hayden’s stupid remote control car.”

Ilya laughed, delighted by this new and important information. “It was Hayden’s toy?”

“One of the kids left it out,” Hayden insisted from the other side of the room. “It wasn’t me!”

Ilya shared a look with Jackie.

“Come on.” Ilya offered her his hand. “I will help you to the car.”

She tried to move her swollen ankle, then winced.

“Are you sure it is not broken?” Ilya asked.

“It’s not broken. It just hurts.”

She reached for his shoulder, and Ilya decided to make this easier for her. He bent and hovered one hand near her bent knees. “May I?”

“Go for it.”

Ilya lifted her into his arms. She wasn’t a tall woman, but she was fit and strong. He was still able to lift her easily.

“Hey, I can do that!” Hayden insisted as he strode across the room.

“Good grief, Hayden,” Jackie said. “Just get the door.”

Ilya carried Jackie to the Pikes’ SUV and helped her get comfortable in the back with her leg elevated across the seat. Shane exited the house with all four kids trailing behind him.

“You good?” Hayden asked her as he got into the driver’s seat.

“Do you have her health card?” Ilya asked.

“Shit.”

“It’s in my purse,” Jackie said. “On the kitchen counter.”

“Got it,” Shane said, jogging back to the house.

The kids swarmed the car, asking a million questions at once.

“I’m fine,” Jackie assured them. “Mommy just needs a doctor to look at her ankle. He’ll patch me up and I’ll be good as new!”

“But you were going to paint our nails,” one of the twin girls—Ruby, Ilya was pretty sure—said with a pout.

“I can do that later,” Jackie promised her.

“I can do it,” Ilya said. He looked at Ruby and tapped a finger against his lips. “Wait. What color?”

“Purple. With sparkles. And pink. And blue.”

He smiled. “No problem.”

Shane returned with the purse, and handed it to Jackie.

“Thank you for doing this,” Jackie said. “I know we ruined your day.”

“Not ruined,” Ilya said honestly. “Just more interesting.”

Amber, the youngest Pike child, started crying when Ilya tried to close the car door.

“Oh, sweetie,” Jackie said. “It’s okay. Mommy will be home soon and you’ll have so much fun with Uncle Ilya.”

“Uncle Ilya?” Hayden grumbled.

Ilya picked Amber up and smiled at her. “Shane told me that you are a great chef.”

The three-year-old stared at him with wide, wet eyes, then nodded.

“If you like plastic food,” Hayden said, “you’re in luck.”

“Better than what Shane eats,” Ilya said, winking at Shane.

Hayden actually laughed at that.

“Sparkles on all of them?” Ilya asked.

Ruby nodded without hesitation and Ilya got to work. He’d already painted her nails a bold combination of dark purple, neon pink, and light blue, but obviously the sparkles were necessary.

“How’s it going?” Shane asked as he entered the kitchen.

“Amazing. Look at this great job I am doing.”

Shane bent over the table and inspected Ruby’s manicure. “Wow. I’m jealous.”

“I’m next,” said Ruby’s twin sister, Jade, claiming her spot before Shane tried to butt in line.

“Is Amber asleep?” Ilya asked.

“Yeah. Conked right out after a solid hour of preparing food for us.”

Ilya smiled, remembering how seriously Amber had presented each of their plastic meals. “Was surprised you ate the hamburger. Red meat, you know.”

Shane lightly punched his shoulder. “Idiot.”

“That’s not nice,” Jade said.

“You are right,” Ilya agreed. “That is not nice, Shane.”

“Sorry.” He sat at the table between Jade and the middle child, Arthur. The Pikes’ only son was a remarkably quiet kid, seemingly content to watch whatever was happening around him. He seemed to be fascinated by his sister’s nails.

“Do you want nail polish, Arthur?” Ilya asked.

The five-year-old blinked at him, then nodded.

“He can’t!” Ruby insisted. “He’s a boy.”

“Boys can wear nail polish,” Ilya said. “Watch.” He carefully brushed a coat of the pale blue color on his thumbnail. “See?”

“Dad said it’s just for girls,” Jade said.

“Well, Dad is a—”

“Your dad doesn’t know a lot of boys who wear nail polish,” Shane cut in just in time. “But plenty do.”

Ilya painted the rest of the nails on his left hand and admired his work. “This is nice. I should have sparkles too maybe.”

“Here,” Shane said. He took Ilya’s hand in his, then grabbed the bottle of glitter polish. “It’s easier if someone else does it. Probably.”

Everyone watched as Shane bent over Ilya’s hand, concentrating intensely as he brushed polish on each nail. Ilya’s heart fluttered at the sweetness of it.

“Is he your husband?” Ruby asked.

Ilya flinched, nearly making Shane’s brush slip. “No.”

“Are you his husband?”

“That’s not how—” Shane said, then stopped himself. “We’re not married.”

“Are you going to get married?”

Shane locked eyes with Ilya, and Ilya saw the silent plea for help in them.

“Do you think we should?” Ilya asked.

“Do you love each other?”

“We’re friends,” Shane said stiffly at the same time Ilya said, “Yes.”

Jade grabbed her sister’s arm. “We could have a wedding today!”

Ruby jumped and clapped, probably making a mess of her nails. “Yeah! Can we?”

Ilya grinned at Shane. “What do you say, sweetheart?”

Twenty minutes later, Shane was standing in the Pikes’ living room wearing a magician’s cape, a top hat, and holding a pink plastic heart-shaped ring. Ilya was standing next to him wearing a red sequined bow tie and a headband covered in flowers. He was holding an identical purple ring.

Across from them stood two seven-year-old girls wearing princess dresses, and behind them was a large assembled audience of stuffed toys and Arthur (wearing a firefighter costume and a freshly painted blue manicure).

Arthur pressed a button on a toy that played fifteen seconds of a song from Moana, and they were ready to begin.

“This is the wedding of Shane Hollander and Ilya…” Jade narrowed her eyes at Ilya.

“Rozanov,” he supplied.

She nodded. “Rose-noff.”

Shane snickered, and Ilya nudged him. “Shane. Keep it together. Is our wedding day.”

“Shane, do you promise to love Ilya and be his husband forever?” Ruby asked.

Shane gazed at his ridiculous-looking boyfriend, who smiled back at him. One of the flowers on his headband was holding on by a thread, dangling in front of Ilya’s raised left eyebrow. Suddenly—absurdly—Shane’s throat felt tight.

“I do,” he said quietly, and with an embarrassing amount of feeling.

“Ilya,” said Jade, “do you promise to love Shane and be his husband forever?”

“I do,” Ilya said. “Forever.”

There was a slight tremor in Ilya’s voice, which surprised and relieved Shane. At least Shane wasn’t the only one getting inappropriately emotional.

“Okay,” Jade said. “Do the rings now.”

Ilya took Shane’s hand, and slipped the child-size purple heart ring onto his pinkie, down to his second knuckle. Shane huffed out a shaky laugh.

He took Ilya’s hand and smiled at his painted nails. He wiggled the ring onto the end of Ilya’s pinkie, barely able to get it past the tip. He glanced up, and caught Ilya blinking rapidly.

“I now pronounce you husband and husband,” Ruby said.

Jade elbowed her. “I was supposed to say that!”

“No you weren’t! You say the kissing thing.”

“Oh yeah. You may now kiss.”

Shane raised his eyebrows at Ilya, silently asking You wanna?

Ilya leaned in and kissed him quickly on the mouth while the kids whooped and threw handfuls of paper they’d ripped up into the air. Arthur hit play on the Moana song again.

After the kiss, Ilya pressed his forehead against Shane’s, and they just stood there like that, frozen in the moment.

“Does this mean tonight is our honeymoon?” Shane asked quietly.

“Let’s pretend it is.”

Shane was having a difficult time getting his key to work because Ilya wouldn’t stop kissing his neck.

“Quit it for a sec, would you?” Shane said, tipping his head to the side to try to block Ilya’s attacks.

Ilya wasn’t deterred. He switched to the other side and nibbled under Shane’s ear. Shane let out a childish-sounding giggle and pretended to try to get away when Ilya wrapped an arm across his chest from behind.

“Give it to me,” Ilya said, snatching the key from Shane’s hand. He deftly inserted the key in the lock and turned it while continuing to make a meal of Shane’s neck.

“Show-off,” Shane complained.

“Always.” Then Ilya scooped Shane into his arms, bridal style. The same way he’d carried Jackie to the car earlier that day.

“What the hell?” Shane said, though he knew he sounded more delighted than outraged. “Put me down!”

Ilya grinned at him, and nudged the door open with his foot. “Is our wedding night.”

“This can’t be good for your knee.”

“My knee is fine,” Ilya scoffed. “And you are very light.”

“I’m two hundred pounds!”

“Sure you are.”

“I am!”

“Like you are five-ten.”

“I am five-ten!”

Ilya shook his head and stepped over the threshold.

The Pikes had been at the hospital for hours, but thankfully Jackie’s ankle was, as she’d repeatedly told her husband, only sprained. She’d hobbled through the door on crutches around dinnertime, Hayden hovering close behind looking exhausted and concerned. Ilya, Shane, and the kids had been gathered on the sofa, watching Frozen 2. Ilya’s arm had been wrapped snugly around Shane, which had been nice, in the presence of others. Hayden hadn’t even seemed bothered by it, but that may have been because he’d been distracted by the floral headband Ilya had still been wearing.

It had been a thoroughly enjoyable day.

Ilya carried Shane to the living room, then stopped and glanced around. “Now what?”

“Now you put me down!”

“This is how it works? I thought maybe I put you on our bed? With rose petals?”

“God, fuck off.” Shane squirmed until Ilya had no choice but to release him. Shane landed on his feet, but stumbled forward and almost collided with the coffee table. When he turned around to glare at Ilya, he found him smiling at him with the same soft expression Shane had seen on his face during their make-believe wedding vows.

“What?” Shane asked.

“Nothing.” Ilya scratched the back of his own neck. Looked away. Looked back at Shane. “Today was nice.”

“It was.” Shane took his hand and tugged him closer. “I mean, not the part where Jackie sprained her ankle, but the rest of it.”

“She is lucky it was not broken.”

“Hayden is lucky,” Shane said. Hayden was his best friend and a wonderful father, but Jackie took care of about ninety-nine percent of everything that went on in that family.

“I like those kids,” Ilya said. “I can’t believe Hayden made them.”

“You’re great with kids.” Shane brushed their noses together, then kissed Ilya’s mouth. He tasted like the lemonade Shane had declined at the Pikes’ house but that Ilya had happily drank two glasses of. Shane guiltily enjoyed the taste now, sweet and tangy.

When they broke the kiss, Ilya said, “You will be a good dad.”

Shane rested his forehead on Ilya’s shoulder and smiled. “Not as good as you.”

Ilya huffed. “Not everything is a competition with us.”

“We’d replace a way to make parenting a competition.”

Strong arms tightened around Shane. “No. It will be together. Peaceful.”

Shane, feeling brave, admitted, “There were moments today where I felt like I was looking into our future.”

Ilya pulled back to meet Shane’s gaze. “And it was okay?”

“It was amazing.”

Shane saw joy flash in Ilya’s eyes, and then he didn’t see anything because Ilya was kissing him thoroughly. Shane lost himself in it, enjoying the familiar but still exhilarating heat of Ilya’s mouth. Shane touched him everywhere: the rough scratch of Ilya’s ever-present stubble, the soft curls of his shaggy hair, the long line of his neck and the mounds of his muscular shoulders. He slid a hand up under Ilya’s T-shirt and glided his palm over Ilya’s abs, his perfect bellybutton, and the neat trail of hair beneath it. Then up to his broad chest, over his chest hair and stiff nipples, finally resting over his heart and his stupid bear tattoo.

“I love you,” Ilya murmured against Shane’s lips.

“I love you too.”

“But we are not having four children.”

Shane laughed. “God no. Of course not.”

“It would be too much. With the dogs.”

“Um. I think you mean cat.”

“I did not mean cat. Definitely not.”

“How many dogs exactly?”

“Some. Maybe one, to start. And then he needs a friend, so two. Maybe they don’t like each other so we get number three to be, um…”

“A mediator?”

“Okay. Maybe, yes.”

“And if they don’t like that one?”

“The fourth dog will—”

Shane stepped out of Ilya’s arms. “No.”

Ilya laughed. “One dog.”

“One dog,” Shane agreed.

“You will want more. Just wait.”

Just wait. The words rang in Shane’s ears as he made his way to the kitchen. He believed in their relationship, and was confident that they would have everything they wanted when the time was right. But sometimes he wished the right time was now.

“Are you hungry?” Shane asked.

“Yes.”

“I have a premade lasagna. I just have to bake it.”

Ilya’s face lit up with interest. Then, just as quickly, his face fell. “What are the noodles?”

“Zucchini.”

“No!”

“It’s good, I swear. You won’t even notice the difference,” Shane lied. He turned on the oven, and decided not to tell Ilya what the stand-in for the cheese was.

Ilya grunted as he sat on Shane’s sofa, and Shane glanced over with concern. “How’s your knee?”

“It fell off,” Ilya said dryly, clearly done with Shane asking the same question over and over.

“Let me look at it.”

“You saw it this morning.” Ilya had his sore leg stretched out on the sofa. “Is still just bruised.”

Shane was already at his side. He tried to slide Ilya’s pants leg up, but the tapered cut of the fancy jogging pants made it impossible. “Pull your pants down.”

“You are terrible at foreplay,” Ilya said, but he lifted his hips and slid his waistband down to his shins. The outer part of Ilya’s left knee was entirely dark purple and swollen.

“Jesus,” Shane said. He brushed his fingers over the bruise. “Maybe you should have seen a doctor today.”

“I saw the team doctor last night. Is bruised. Have you not ever had a bruise?”

“I’m getting you some ice.”

Ilya made a vague grunting noise that Shane translated as Ice would feel amazing but I am absolutely not going to admit that.

Shane left and returned with an ice pack, some ibuprofen, and a glass of water. He carefully placed the ice on Ilya’s knee while Ilya took the pills.

“Thank you, moy gazonokosilka.”

This was a game Ilya liked to play where he used random Russian words as pet names, to test Shane. Shane thought hard for a moment, trying to guess the word’s meaning, but ultimately surrendered. “No idea what that one means.”

“Is, um…for cutting the grass.”

“Lawnmower?”

“Yes.”

“Weird.”

Shane felt something digging into his hip when he bent to kiss Ilya quickly, then remembered the plastic heart rings that the kids had insisted he and Ilya keep. He took them out of his pocket and placed them on the coffee table, and was about to return to the kitchen when Ilya said, quietly, “The kids didn’t care.”

“About what?”

“About us. They knew, and they did not care.”

“Yeah. That was a surprise.” Shane had no idea how Ruby and Jade had been so certain that Ilya and Shane were a couple—he was sure their parents hadn’t told them, it would be risky giving young children that information—but they’d known and accepted it and had insisted on making honest men of them both.

“Maybe more people would not care,” Ilya said. “If they knew.”

“I think most people would care way too fucking much,” Shane said dismissively.

Ilya’s expression shuttered, then he began to aggressively adjust his ice pack. Shane felt like he’d said something wrong, but what else could he have said? He didn’t honestly believe that many people would accept them as a couple. They could only stick to the plan, which was continuing on in secret until they were both retired. Or at least until one of them was, but Shane hoped they would retire together. The idea of playing in a league without Ilya seemed strange and hollow.

Shane put a tentative hand on Ilya’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

Ilya crossed his arms over his chest and mumbled something in Russian.

“Huh?”

“I think you care too fucking much.”

“About what? Us?”

“No. About everyone else. Opinions.”

“Aren’t we both concerned about that?”

Ilya didn’t answer, and Shane felt like he was missing something important. “We can talk about it if you—”

“No,” Ilya grumbled. “Is nothing.”

“Okay.” It wasn’t the first time Ilya had seemed randomly upset about something he refused to talk about. Shane worried, sometimes, that there were a lot of things Ilya wasn’t telling him.

Ilya sighed. “Sorry. I am tired. Forget what I am saying.”

Shane brushed a thumb across Ilya’s cheek. “I love you.”

Ilya’s lips quirked up. “Good. Because we are married now.”

Still not sure what any of this was about, Shane picked up the remote from the coffee table and handed it to Ilya. “We can eat on the sofa. Find a movie or something.”

He got to work making a salad to a soundtrack of heroic music and loud explosions coming from the living room. Ilya loved action movies. The lasagna still needed to bake for a while after Shane finished the salad, so he joined his boyfriend on the couch, letting Ilya rest his feet in his lap.

“What movie is it?”

“I don’t know. But Rose is in it.”

Shane squinted at the TV and wished he had his glasses. “Oh yeah. I’ve seen this one. It’s kind of bad.”

“Rose looks beautiful, though.”

“She always does.” They watched in silence while Shane absently rubbed Ilya’s feet.

“You could have had it all,” Ilya teased when Rose was on the screen in a particularly sexy evening gown.

Shane snuggled closer against him. He’d had a question on his mind since they’d woken from their nap. He didn’t want to ruin this cozy moment, but he couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“Ilya?”

Ilya must have heard the caution in Shane’s voice, because his body tensed. “Yes?”

“Are you…okay?”

“Fine. Is just a bruise.”

“No, I mean…” Shane gnawed on his bottom lip, unsure of how to proceed.

“Shane?”

He decided to just go for it. “I feel like, maybe, you’re not okay. Sometimes.”

Ilya removed his arm and turned toward him. “Not okay how?”

Shane sat up and faced him. “You’ve been through a lot, and I know our…thing…isn’t easy. And I’m just wondering if you maybe need to deal with some of that.” He steeled himself. “Professionally, I mean.”

Ilya narrowed his eyes. “Why are you saying this?”

Shane put a hand on his arm, and Ilya flinched under his touch. Shit, Shane was fucking this up. He tried again. “I’d never thought much about, y’know, mental health stuff, before we started the charity. But sometimes you seem…sad. Or, I dunno, withdrawn.”

“Withwhat?”

“Withdrawn, like, um, quiet.”

“Everyone is quiet sometimes.” Ilya turned back to the TV. “You should try it.”

Shane huffed out an exasperated sigh. “Fine. We don’t have to talk about it. Just know that if you want to talk, or want to maybe see someone about it, I’ll support you. And if you don’t want to, I’ll support that too. But I’m worried sometimes.”

For a long time, Ilya didn’t say anything. Shane watched the hinge of his jaw twitch. His lips were a hard line.

“You should not worry,” Ilya finally said, his gaze staying on the television. “I am okay.”

Shane took his hand and squeezed. “You don’t have to deal with anything alone, all right?”

Ilya swallowed hard. “Yes. Fine.” His hand was trembling.

“I’m serious,” Shane said.

Ilya stood, pulling his hand away. “If there is something, I will tell you. But there is nothing. So let’s eat bad lasagna and shut up about it, okay?”

That really didn’t sound like nothing was bothering Ilya, but Shane had promised to support him if he didn’t want to talk. He stood too. “It’s not bad lasagna.”

Ilya managed to smile a bit at that. “We will see.”