Chapter Text
Disclaimer : English is not my first language
Part 1
Practice was halfway over when Shane got the idea.
Or rather, when Hayden made it impossible not to get that idea.
They were lined up at center ice and the coach was barking instructions at the far end of the rink, his voice echoing off the boards. Shane leaned on his stick, trying to catch his breath, when Hayden skated up beside him.
He nudged Shane’s leg pad with his skate. “You ever seen the guy wearing number eighty one on the other team?” he muttered, eyes forward like he was paying full attention to what the coach was saying.
Shane snorted. “Ilya Rozanov? Yeah. What about him?”
Hayden tilted his head just enough to glance toward the opposite side of the rink, where the other team was finishing their warm-ups. “I know him. Well, kind of. We talked after the last game.”
Shane raised an eyebrow. “Since when do you talk to rivals?”
Hayden smirked. “Since he left his phone unlocked on the bench.”
Before Shane could react, Hayden subtly tapped his stick against Shane’s glove. Something small and folded was pressed into his palm.
Shane looked down. A scrap of white tape. Black marker ink bled through it.
Rozanov — 555-1410
Shane’s breath hitched. He closed his fist around it just as Coach’s whistle shrieked through the rink.
“Line up!” the coach shouted.
Hayden skated away like nothing had happened, Shane knew exactly what Hayden wanted to do, they are best friends, so of course he knew but was it a good idea ? Of course not. Shane risked a glance back at the piece of tape hidden inside his glove as if to make sure that what had just happened was real.
Hayden shot him a last look over his shoulder with a smirk one his face and mouthed, “Have fun.”
Shane grinned behind his cage.
He didn’t not expect this day to turn out to be this fun.
It was just a harmless joke.
That was what Shane told himself as he stared at his phone in the locker room, the air still thick with sweat and the sharp scent of ice that never quite left after practice. Across the room, his teammates laughed and shoved each other, sticks clattering against the benches. Hockey was loud, rough, and simple. Texting someone you’d never met pretending you’re the opposite gender ? Not so much and Shane wasn’t much of a flirt, to be honest he was terrible at it but the idea of pranking the Ilya Rozanov was fun and exciting.
Shane was sitting on one of the locker’s bench his nose glued to his phone just staring at it.
He had Rozanov’s number saved under the name “Lily” and as much as the initial idea of a prank on him seemed thrilling he was begging to realize what it truly meant. The guy on the other end of the number was another hockey player, from a rival team, Ilya Rozanov, the handsome Russian playboy that had all the girls going crazy for him, wasn’t he too much of a challenge for an inexperienced guy like him?
Shane’s ego quickly rejected that idea, Ilya Rozanov a challenge he couldn’t face? Never.
It was known that Ilya had never refused any flirt from any girl even if they were strangers, it was existing for him, the mystery and the challenge was too good, he couldn’t resist.
He was a perfect target for Shane’s prank.
Shane cracked his knuckles, typed out the first message, took a deep breath and hit send before he could second-guess himself. Just a few texts. A little flirting. A quick laugh at someone else’s expense. That was all was meant to be.
He glanced around the locker room once more, then focused back on the phone.
Unknown number:
hey :) is this Ilya?
The reply came almost immediately.
Lily:
yeah. who’s this?
Shane bit his lip to keep from laughing. Too easy.
Unknown number:
you don’t remember me? rude
There was a pause. Long enough for Shane to wonder if he’d already blown it.
Lily:
uh… sorry? I’m bad with names
Jackpot.
Unknown number:
it’s Jane. we met at the arena a few weeks ago. you helped me pick up my gloves
That part was pure guesswork, but hockey players often interact with fans and other people, so statistically, it had to be right.
Another pause.
Lily:
oh, yeah. Sorry, was after practice, yes?
Shane’s grin stretched ear to ear.
Unknown number:
wow you DO remember
so I wasn’t totally forgettable
Lily:
no, no.
I mean..yeah. I remember
Shane leaned back against the bench, shaking with silent laughter as one of his teammates glanced over suspiciously.
Unknown number:
good
I wasn’t sure if I should text you but you seemed nice
Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.
Lily:
uh, thanks. I didn’t think you’d text me
Shane stared at the screen, something unexpected fluttering in his chest. Did Ilya really thought that he was someone he truly met? It was possible.
Unknown number:
maybe I just like hockey boys
As he was typing those words a hot wave hit the young player, damn it was so embarrassing.
He hit send, fully expecting chaos.
Instead, Ilya replied:
Lily:
yeah?
Shane swallowed, grin softening just a little.
This was definitely getting interesting.