Fabian: When are you done for the day?
Ryan: Just wrapping up. You at the hotel?
Fabian: I’m at a café.
He sent Ryan a photo of a cappuccino sitting next to a plate with a half-eaten pain au chocolat.
Fabian: I love Montreal.
Ryan smiled. He’d just finished his first day of coaching at Rozanov and Hollander’s charity hockey camp, and it had gone surprisingly well. He’d felt a little awkward standing next to some of the superstars that had agreed to help out, but at least Wyatt was there.
Although, Wyatt was practically a superstar himself these days. Since being traded to Ottawa, he’d played extremely well for the struggling team. Ryan was happy for him.
The first day of camp had been a little chaotic, with everyone trying to figure out how exactly this was going to work, but it had been fun. The kids were great, and Ryan liked that the camp welcomed all genders. He’d ended the day by working one-on-one with a thirteen-year-old girl on improving her pivoting. It was awesome being able to share actual hockey skills with someone. It was awesome to be reminded that hehadactual hockey skills.
“Nice work today, Pricey.” Wyatt came up behind him, and clapped him on the shoulder. “Is that Fabian you’re texting?”
“Yeah. He’s eating pastry somewhere.”
“Jesus, and he’s sending you photos of it? That seems cruel. Listen, do know where Roz or Hollander are? I got Owen’s mom to sign the incident report and now I don’t know what to do with it.”
“Incident report? What happened?”
“Aw, nothing much really. Some shoving in the locker room. I think he’s got some old beef with that Harper kid.”
“Oh.” Ryan couldn’t imagine what kind of beef two twelve-year-olds could have. “I can take that for you. I’ll give it to them.”
“Thanks, buddy. Lisa is waiting for me, so I’ll see you tomorrow, all right?” He handed Ryan the paper and jogged away.
Ryan glanced down one end of the hallway he was standing in, and then the other. He was pretty sure there was some sort of office somewhere that Rozanov and Hollander were using. Maybe one of them was in there.
He chose a direction and started walking. He was glad he had decided to accept Rozanov’s offer and coach this camp. It had taken a lot of convincing on Ilya’s part, but after Ryan had some long conversations with Fabian, his parents, Colleen, and his therapist, he had decided that this would be a good way to see if hockey had anything left to offer him.
He was thinking seriously about getting into some sort of childhood education program. Or maybe a physical fitness education program. He liked working with kids, and he liked being active. Hereallyliked the idea of making hockey a positive and inclusive thing for everyone. It was a cause he could be passionate about.
He heard Rozanov’s unmistakable voice—a heavily accented teasing drawl—coming from a room down the hall. He headed toward the sound, and then stopped when he heard a second, angrier voice. It sounded like Hollander.
He moved a little closer and could confirm that it was Shane Hollander, and he seemed to be arguing with Rozanov. Well, that wasn’t really a surprise. Ryan still wasn’t over the fact that they liked each other at all.
The arguing stopped, so Ryan went to the door. He should have knocked before nudging it open because the next thing he saw was Ilya pinning Shane against the wall.
With his mouth on Shane’s.
Shane saw him first, and immediately shoved Ilya away from him. Ilya turned to see who the intruder was, not looking nearly as panicked as Shane was.
“Price,” Ilya said calmly. “What’s up?”
Shane was blushing furiously and smoothing out the front of his camp director polo shirt.
“I have some paperwork. Wyatt gave it to me. For you.”
“Thank you,” Shane said. “You can put it on the desk. And, um, about what you just saw...”
Ilya rolled his eyes and took the paper from Ryan. “He’s not going totell anyone, Shane. Fucking relax.” He shot Ryan a questioning look that saidyou’re not going to tell anyone, are you?
“No. I won’t tell anyone. That you’re, um...”
“Making out at work? Yes. That would be bad,” Ilya said with an amused grin. Shane looked like he would never smile again.
