Ilya understood what that meant: Scott didn’t believe Shane had tripped on purpose. He lowered his defenses and said, “Thank you for saying so.”
“How’d Crowell react to your relationship?”
Ilya snorted. Shane said, “You can probably guess. I think if he thought he could get away with it, we’d both be out of the league.”
Scott’s expression turned dangerous, the way it often did on the ice. “I think he felt the same way about me when I came out.”
“And Troy Barrett,” Ilya added. “Troy got an email after that was like...what is the word? Nice but sounds angry?”
“Passive-aggressive,” Shane said.
“Yes. Okay. That.”
“Crowell’s a dinosaur,” Scott said. “He’s standing in the way of progress, which is part of why I wanted to talk to you. Carter Vaughan and I are trying to start a group of NHL players.” Hepaused. “No. Ofhockeyplayers—I’ve already reached out to Max Riley and Leah Campbell—who are interested in fighting back against toxic hockey culture. Not just homophobia, but all of it: racism, sexism, rape culture, transphobia, toxic masculinity. I know that sounds kind of huge and impossible, but it has to start somewhere.”
“Like a club?” Ilya asked. “Of nice hockey players?”
“Basically,” Scott said. “I thought when I came out that would make a difference for other queer hockey players.”
“I think it did,” Shane said. He glanced at Ilya. “It did for us, anyway.”
Oh god. That was embarrassing. But it was true; Ilya probably wouldn’t have taken a chance on trying to be with Shane if Scott hadn’t kissed his boyfriend on television after winning the Stanley Cup.
“Yeah?” Scott asked, sounding surprised and maybe a bit touched. “That’s nice to hear. But when I heard Troy’s story, it made me realize that queer NHL players still didn’t feel safe coming out. And that’s justoneproblem with hockey culture.” He sighed. “Sometimes it all seems so broken I don’t know if it can be fixed. But I want to try.”
“So,” Shane said slowly, “like, if someone in hockey says or does something awful, we would speak as a united front against it? Is that what you’re thinking?”
Scott’s eyes flashing with excitement. “Exactly! Right now it’s scary, speaking out, when you’re just one person. But if we have an organized group who can release statements, it’s a lot less scary. It’s powerful.” He leaned forward. “I have over fifty hockey players interested in joining already. I think we can really do this.”
Ilya was impressed. This was actually a really good idea. “I’m in.”
“Me too,” Shane said. “A hundred percent. I know J.J. and Hayden would be into it too.”
“My coach might join as well,” Ilya said thoughtfully. “He is a very good guy.”
“Yeah? That would be great. I’d love to get some people from that side of the bench.” He smiled. “Sorry I kind of jumped right into my pitch. I mostly came here to tell you that, y’know, I’ve got your back. And congratulations, I guess.”
“You can congratulate us after we are married,” Ilya couldn’t resist saying.
Scott’s eyebrows shot up. “And when will that be?”
“July,” Shane said, even though they hadn’t officially decided. He glanced at Ilya. “Makes sense, right? Maybe the week before camps start?”
“Sure,” Ilya said easily. “Whenever.”
Scott blew out a breath. “Jesus. This is really weird. Sorry.”
“Why?” Ilya asked. “Because we are both men?”
“What?” Scott sputtered. “No! Because...you know what? Fuck you, Rozanov.”
Ilya laughed, then stood and extended his hand to Scott. “You are a good guy, Hunter.” When Scott took his hand, Ilya pulled Scott to his feet and, without really thinking about it, wrapped him in a hug. Scott let out a surprised-sounding “Oh,” when his enormous body collided with Ilya’s.
“Well,” Shane said. “There’s something I never thought I’d see.”
Scott laughed and stepped out of the embrace. “Funny. I said the exact same thing when I saw you guys kissing in that video.”
“I want to be friends,” Ilya said simply. The truth was, he’d always had a lot of respect for Scott, and there was no reason to pretend otherwise. Being honest felt great. He’d have to tell Galina about it.
