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“Don’t check your phone,” Ilya says, which only makes Shane immediately reach for his device. Luckily, he’s waylaid by Rose appearing in the doorway behind Ilya, which makes him straighten with a smile.
“Oh hey,” Shane starts. “I didn't realise you were coming over after…” He stops, taking in both their faces. “Wait. What happened?”
~*~
It goes like this:
Shane re-injures his arm (boo), which means he has some unexpected free time to pop down to Boston (yay), just as Ilya has a home game and then a few days off (winning). Ilya tells him not to make a habit of getting injured just to make a booty call; Shane groans and tells him he’s on speaker with his mother. Ilya calls Yuna “Mrs Hollander, ma’am, sorry,” for the rest of the call.
Of course, it's not in Shane’s DNA to treat the impromptu trip as a holiday – he and Yuna have his schedule rejigged by the time he’s left the hospital, and he has a few meetings lined up to explain the Boston of it all, if anyone asks. Still, David tells Ilya it’s a vast improvement from how they used to run Shane’s schedule, and he’s proud to see Shane prioritising his rest and happiness for once, and they have Ilya to thank for that. Ilya stares at that text for a long time. He can barely believe he talks to his boyfriend’s father on a casual basis, let alone gets thanked by him. Every time Jane’s dad flashes up on his screen as the contact ID, he has a tiny heart attack. Marleau has definitely noticed.
So Shane is in Boston and so is Ilya, but they both still have obligations and separate time to kill.
And then Rose Landry texts.
Hey Lily, she says, because Shane had told her everything by the end of summer, and now she is…in on things, Ilya supposes. Part of the inner circle. A very tiny circle; one that holds so much power it makes Ilya nauseous sometimes, even if he trusts the Hollanders and, of course, Svetlana. There had been no debate over telling Sveta, even if Shane still gets murder in his eyes whenever her name comes up. Ilya finds it amusing, and affirming, and more than a little hot. He knows they will get along when they finally meet properly, and isn’t worried about it.
He had waited to tell Sveta in person, not wanting to say it over the phone while she was still in Russia. She had bitched at him for abandoning her and their summer plans last minute, but with no bite and a level of patience he is eternally grateful for.
Rose, however, is harder to pin down, and Shane ends up calling her from the cottage. He’d wanted to tell her alone before introducing Ilya, and comes back in with red eyes and a smile that makes Ilya’s heart ache.
“Feels so good, being able to tell someone about you, someone we can trust,” Shane says, and Ilya doesn’t miss the inherent use of we. “I think she started crying before I did, she was so happy for me. For us. She really wants to meet you, if you’re open to it…”
So maybe Rose Landry is not a terrible person. Ilya makes a face on principle.
“I wanted to make sure she knew I wasn’t – when she and I were dating, I mean. That I wasn’t…y’know. With you. Then.”
“Ah,” Ilya says, pulling him in on the couch. “What a gentleman.”
“Shut up,” Shane says, only to tuck himself closer. “But she wasn’t even worried about it. I don’t know how she’s so kind and so – if she hadn’t ended things the way she did, I don't know how I would have managed it. I wouldn’t have figured it out by Tampa, that’s for sure. Wouldn’t have been able to tell you…”
Ilya can fill in the rest. And as much as the hurt from those headlines still guts him sometimes, Ilya knows that’s between him and Shane, and soothed with every passing day. Knows that none of it is Rose Landry’s fault. So he kisses the top of Shane’s head and says, “Tell me about that conversation. What she said. Then I see if I buy her flowers.”
“We should definitely buy her flowers,” Shane replies, laughing, and there it is again, we, we, we. “Okay, so we meet up for dinner, and after we’re done eating she looks at me and says…”
Ilya and Rose have spoken over videocall, but only in passing over Shane’s shoulder. There’s a group chat between himself, Rose, and Yuna for emergency on-ice updates, but that chat has been blessedly quiet so far this season, with no report-worthy injuries until Shane’s arm in mid-January. Beyond that, they’ve exchanged numbers and a few hockey related texts when she manages to catch a Boston game. It’s usually congratulations or commiseration, until a ref doesn’t call a penalty for some obvious high-sticking against Ilya, and he gets a string of expletive-ridden messages that would make any hockey player proud. He smiles even though it pulls at the stitches in his face and texts back thanks )) still pretty, don’t worry. She replies with, of course you are, sweetcheeks. Ilya makes the mistake of wondering what ‘sweetcheeks’ means in earshot of Marleau, and never hears the end of it. Maybe he’s underestimated Rose Landry.
Either way, here they are now: Ilya tidying his house for Shane’s arrival and getting a text from Rose that reads Hey Lily, I’ll be in Boston from Tues to Fri, and have some free time. Would you like to meet up? She follows it up with a screenshot of her calendar, which explains a lot about why she and Shane are friends.
Ilya thinks for a while before carefully typing out his reply.
Lily at 4:56pm
Jane will also be here over those days. Do you want to see when she’s free? You are busy.
Rose at 4:57pm
Oh! She’s just texted, that’s amazing news. Well, not amazing about the arm, but great timing. Let me group chat this scheduling puzzle.
And then there’s a group chat, and Shane putting all their schedules side by side and working out that no, they aren’t all going to line up at the same time, sorry.
Jane at 5:30pm
@Rose, why don’t you come over to Lily’s and we can have dinner + watch most of the game before you have to go? Lily has a great setup.
Rose at 5:33pm
That sounds great if @Lily you’re okay with that?
Lily at 5:35pm
Of course Jane invites like she owns the place. Secretly very rude, Rose. Fake Canadian.
In truth, Shane inviting Rose over as if Ilya’s house is theirs makes him absurdly pleased. Not to mention the idea of Shane watching him play from the comfort of home, able to share that with someone who knows. Ilya has never seen Shane watch him play; not for enjoyment, not with other people. He’ll have to ask Rose for details later. So he follows up with:
Lily at 5:35pm
But yes, of course okay. Enjoy best TV.
Rose at 5:36pm
Yay, thank you!! Okay, what about us then – I spy a free dinner slot Thurs?
Ilya sits back, surprised. He’d assumed she’d rather just see Shane. But she had reached out to him, after all. So he says yes, and they bounce restaurant ideas back and forth before settling on a recommendation from one of Rose's co-stars. Easy. And now he’s scheduled to have dinner with Rose Landry, big American movie star and Shane’s ex-girlfriend who he totally still had sex with two times, whatever, and now Shane’s best friend who had helped him accept he was gay and in love with Ilya. Great. Ilya does not like feeling indebted to anybody, least of all Rose Landry. He needs to stop thinking about her as Rose Landry. He can’t stop thinking about her as Rose Landry.
“Are you okay?” Shane asks as he watches Ilya rifle through a dozen shirt options and decide on none. “You’re going to behave at this dinner, right?”
Ilya turns to stare at him, hands on his hips.
“Me, behave?” he says, noting the minute twitch of Shane’s mouth that means he’s actually laughing. “Are you telling Rose Landry to behave too? Otherwise is – what you call it – sexism. Yes. Unfair.”
Shane snorts. “I know Rose will be nice. You, however…” He puts his hands up as Ilya advances on him. “You might – ha, hey, you have a dinner and I have to – no marks, Ilya, I’m meeting a sponsor –!”
--
Because Ilya is both efficient and a gentleman, he still makes it to dinner on time. He’s led to a private room, which is always preferable but also makes his shoulders go up, as if he’s stepping into a ring. Rose motherfuckin’ Landry stands to greet him, and she is –
Look. Ilya isn’t easily impressed, and he knows what it is to be famous. But their level of fame from the MLH simply does not compare to whatever Rose Landry has going on, with her face on every billboard and on everybody’s screens. Ilya himself has watched more than a few of her movies, before and after she dated Shane. Well, he’d hate-watched a few while they were dating, but that had made him feel sick and pathetic. She’s good at what she does and has made a career out of it, and he can only respect that.
And yes, of course, she’s beautiful. Not Ilya’s usual type, but he can see the appeal. Worse, he can see the appeal to Shane – not sexually, of course, but she’s beautiful in that sweet, girl next door kind of way that makes men think they’ve met something real while still living in a dream. And evidently, Shane had found something real, even if it wasn’t in the way he’d hoped for.
Maybe that’s what it is, actually. The Rose that Shane loves is not Rose Landry, the glossy figure Ilya thinks he’s familiar with but doesn’t know at all. Just as he is not Ilya Rozanov in the way most of the world sees him, not all the time. Maybe they have that in common.
Ilya sticks out his hand, and then immediately feels like Shane.
“Rose Landry,” he says, unable to drop the surname. “Nice to finally meet you.” The English feels clumsy on his tongue, like he’s a rookie all over again.
“You too!” Rose says, shaking hands before gesturing for him to sit. She has a perfect smile with perfect teeth. “Now, Ilya Rozanov – am I saying that properly?”
Ilya blinks. The only other person who’s asked him that in North America is Yuna during their second dinner together.
“Yes,” he replies reflexively, and then, because she’s still looking at him, he says his name back to her to confirm. She repeats it, and nails it on the second try. She is an actress, after all.
“Nice, thank you,” she says, and they pause to order drinks. If the waiter recognises either of them, they do an admirable job of pretending not to. “So, Ilya.”
“Rose.”
They look at each other over the table, complete with candlelight. In another life, this would be Ilya on a date, with a gorgeous woman in an expensive restaurant. In this life, he’s never felt less suave.
Rose tips her head back and laughs. He startles, just a little.
“Oh my god, you look like I’m going to stab you,” she says, and pointedly moves her cutlery away. “Relax, please. I just want to meet you, and get to know the guy my best friend is in love with, okay?”
And, fuck, Shane was right. To hear someone say that, so casually and yet with the full weight of the truth behind their words – it takes Ilya’s breath away. Rose looks at him like she understands and asks, “Why did you say yes to meeting me?”
It’s not a question Ilya expected, but at least he knows the answer.
“You are important to Shane,” he says. “And his only friend that knows.” He pauses. She has a dangerous face. It makes people speak. “And I was…curious.”
She tilts her head. “About what?”
“About the Rose that Shane knows,” he replies, and then, because he truly hates small talk, “He also won't tell me what happened when you slept together. That, I am curious about too.”
Rose laughs again. It’s a nice sound.
“I promised Shane I would never talk about that, and my first loyalty is to him, sorry,” she says. Ilya accepts this with a nod – it’s good for Shane to have people so clearly in his corner. Rose continues with, “Well, I am also curious about the Ilya that Shane knows, rather than the one I see on ice.” She scrunches her nose. “Though it’s not always an easy divide, is it?”
“No,” Ilya agrees. “It’s funny, seeing you in person. Like I have seen your twin a hundred times before, and thought it was you.”
“Oh, good description,” Rose says, all American enthusiasm and yet, Ilya thinks it’s genuine. “Well, an easy way through that is Truth or Drink. Shall we play?”
Ilya had ingested an embarrassing amount of Rose Landry content from when she and Shane were dating, so at least he had questions to ask. She has evidently done her homework on him as well – she asks some surprisingly niche questions about his hockey that make him feel rather shallow in comparison, considering most of his prompts are from tabloid gossip. He’s going to have to learn about filmmaking just to keep up.
Whenever something comes up that they don’t want to speak about, they take sips of their wine, usually with a laugh or a hand covering their face (Rose), or a shit-eating smirk (Ilya). She’d been right though – by the time they’re done with appetizers, Ilya realises he’s no longer feeling clumsy with his English, and is starting to chirp Rose like they’ve known each other for longer than they have. He sees how she managed to connect with Shane so quickly, when so few do. It’s a skill, and coming from anyone else, it would make Ilya suspicious. But from Rose… He thinks he’s mostly just grateful. It’s a funny feeling.
And then, midway through their mains, she hits him with, “So do you like hockey, or do you like being good at hockey?”
He finishes chewing, and then takes a sip of wine for good measure. “Can’t it be both?”
“Of course,” she says, “but I’m curious if it’s more one or the other.”
Ilya narrows his eyes.
“Are you…head doctor, too? Shane said you asked interesting questions.”
Rose gestures with both hands.
“I’m an actor! It’s my job to be curious about people.” She shrugs. “Besides, I asked Shane the same thing, and it was fascinating.”
“Oh? What did he say?”
“Ask him yourself,” she says with a smile. “Fair warning, it did throw him a bit. I spent most of that evening watching him speedrun his way through an existential crisis before landing somewhere he could live with.”
Ilya makes a note to google existential crisis later; he understands enough for now from the context and the Shane of it all. “Ah. He do that thing where he starts speaking like typewriter, but in circles?”
“Oh my god, yes,” Rose says, laughing. “That’s exactly – I mean, I see where his brain is going, but it’s like babe, breathe…”
“And he paces so much you think, is it workout time? Legs tired just watching him.”
“Bless,” she says, and Ilya is sure the smile they share is entirely too fond. He reigns his expression in when Rose points her fork at him a moment later. “But back to you, mister. Which one is it?”
Ilya sits back. He doesn’t owe her a real answer, but…
“I think it is different at different times,” he starts, and she nods. “I liked…skating. Being on the ice.” With my mother, he doesn’t say. “Hockey was…a given. For why I would be on the ice. And then I showed promise, and…” He shrugs. “Who doesn’t like being good at something?”
She makes an affirming noise, eyes wide and warm. What is with Shane and all the kind-eyed people around him?
“Hockey has been many things to me. An escape, a purpose, a…a duty. I am lucky, with my team. They are my family here. And hockey also brought me – brought me Shane.” He remembers meeting Shane for the first time and knowing even then that they would always be intertwined, alone together at the top of their game. Oh, if seventeen year old Ilya could see them now. He smiles. “Does that answer your question, Doctor Landry?”
“There’s a lot to unpack there, but I’ll let it slide,” she says, putting on an imperious voice. “Shane told me to behave, after all.”
“Aha!” Ilya says, delighted. “He said same to me. Boring.”
“I think we’re doing a pretty good job,” Rose says, and they clink glasses. Ilya raises his eyebrows at her.
“Well then, what about you?” he asks. “You like acting, or being good at it?”
“Oh, I love acting,” she says immediately. “I don’t know if I’m good at it. But I love it.”
Ilya frowns. “Shane says you’re going to be Oscar nominated for that film in October. He got so stressed watching it he had to stand up. I thought it was very good.” He shrugs. “Even if it’s judged by opinion. You are obviously successful.”
“Oh god, don’t let him jinx me, we’re this close to nominations! I…” Rose takes a breath, and Ilya sees her hands flex on the tabletop. “I mean, thank you. That’s very kind of you to say.”
Ilya raises his eyebrows again. She splutters. “What’s with that face?”
“Shane says you think all your movies bad.”
“Most of them are.”
“Doesn’t mean you are bad actor. We have good players on shit teams. Same thing, bad luck. But now, you are in good movie, Oscar –”
“Shh!”
“Sorry. Good movie, good role. Important people think so. So let’s say you are good.”
Rose stares at him for a long moment. To his dismay, he thinks her eyes are getting a little shiny.
“Uh,” he says, wondering how to backtrack, “Sorry, did I –”
“No, no, you’re all good,” Rose says quickly, dabbing at her mouth with her napkin and blinking rapidly. Ilya looks away to allow her a moment and she laughs, a little shaky. “Sorry, it’s me. Awards season is – I’ve never been so involved before and it’s all a little crazy.” She sighs, sitting back. “God, I promised myself I would stop being so self-deprecating.”
Ilya knows that phrase. “Yes, can be hard,” he says. “But next time, just think: what would Ilya Rozanov do?”
He grins at her – the one he uses on ice, the one that’s all swagger and no doubt, none at all. It works; she laughs, properly this time, and nods, sweeping her hair back from her face. “Perfect, yes, and then they can just call me a bitch instead of wondering if I’m overhyped.”
Ilya stops grinning. “They say that?”
“And that’s just the nice ones,” Rose says, and then waves a hand at his expression. “Let’s not think about that on my night off. I’ll answer your question properly – I love acting. Even if I was terrible at it – which I don’t think I am – I’d love it.”
“How did you get started?” Ilya asks. He can’t remember the first time he was put in skates; maybe acting is the same.
“Oh, speech and drama classes and a great after-school programme,” Rose says, smiling. “Quite by accident. But I didn’t want to sit in a cold rink while my brothers played, and my parents needed somewhere to leave me when they were shuttling the three of them around.”
“That’s a lot of brothers.”
“Yeah, but they’re pretty alright, as brothers go.”
“You didn’t want to play hockey?”
Rose purses her lips. “It wasn’t really…given to me as an option,” she says, and, ah, Ilya feels like he’s put his foot in it.
“Sorry,” he says, because he’s really been spending too much time around Shane and Canadians in general. “I know – was similar issue for my best friend too. She would have been great.”
“Yeah,” Rose says. “And it’s fine, like, I don’t think I was robbed of my calling or anything. It just would’ve been nice to have the same options as my brothers. Anyway,” she shrugs. “Speech and drama it was.”
“Your parents were supportive?”
“Wow, who’s the head doctor now, Rozanov?”
“You can drink if you don’t want to answer the question, Landry.”
Rose takes a pointed sip of her wine, but then opens her mouth anyway.
“Mom is my biggest fan, she’s incredible. Made sure I got to all my shows and competitions when I started getting serious about it, and keeps up with everything despite knowing nothing about the industry.” She pauses. Ilya copies her technique and tilts his head, waiting. She gives him a wry smile. “Dad’s just happy I have somewhere to channel my…dramatics, I think.”
Ah. “He doesn’t take it seriously?”
Rose laughs, but this time, it’s an ugly sound; the first ugly thing Ilya’s gotten from her. “I could win ten Oscars and he probably still wouldn’t,” she says. “He was far more impressed by me dating Shane than anything I’ve ever done.”
Anger rears in Ilya, surprising him with its intensity and abruptness. Rose Landry is a bigger star than any of them will ever be; Ilya knows for a fact that MLH numbers shifted during Rose’s connection to the sport. She is playing at the top of a notoriously stupid industry, and despite all the bullshit, she is also kind, and funny, and making time for a man she could understandably hate and ruin the life of, if she so wished.
Across the table, Rose is already straightening, shaking her head. “Sorry, wow, that sounded – he’s supportive too, I didn’t mean –”
“Fuck him,” Ilya says, and startles them both by putting his hand over Rose’s on the table. He pulls back quickly, in case it was unwelcome, but she stays still, staring at him. “If you are this good and he cares more about who you date…” Ilya shakes his head. He’s spent his life beside Sveta, seeing how she is treated in comparison to himself. He knows something of what Rose is saying, he thinks. “Even if it was Shane. Even then.”
This time, it’s Rose who reaches out and takes his hand, squeezing it between both her own.
“Thank you, Ilya,” she says quietly. “God, Shane was so right about you.”
Ilya is dying to know what that means, but doesn’t move away just yet. “You carry a lot for Shane, and now for me,” he says. “You don’t need to watch your words with us.”
“Don’t make me cry,” Rose says, and they both laugh as she looks up at the ceiling and blinks rapidly, a familiar move Ilya recognises as don’t mess up my mascara or so help me god.
When they sit back, the room is the same and yet the air feels different – like something has passed between them and settled around their shoulders, warm and tangible.
“More wine,” Ilya says decisively, “and dessert, yes?”
“You,” Rose replies, “are full of good ideas.”
--
They stay for longer than Ilya had anticipated, and have far more fun than he’d expected. The wine helps, he’s sure, but Rose’s humour gets cheekier as she relaxes, and so does his. At some point, Shane texts both of them separately to say he’s done with his meetings and ask if they’re doing okay. They sit there giggling over how to reply for a good few minutes before Ilya tells Shane Rose tried to stab him (with her dessert fork when he tried to steal a cherry), and Rose says Ilya made her cry (with laughter by recounting his first meeting with Yuna and David).
Shane texts them both back via the group chat with: I hate you both and am regretting wanting you to meet. They both cackle.
But then the evening is wrapping up, and it’s time to go. They have a face-off over the check, which Rose wins by saying he can pay next time. Next time, he thinks, as he grumbles at her goodnaturedly. Yes, next time.
And then they step out through the front of the restaurant, and –
“Rose, Rose, Ms Landry, over here –! Are you enjoying your –?”
“Ilya, Rozanov, can we please –!”
A dozen cameras go off right in their faces, and Ilya throws an arm up on instinct, angling himself in front of Rose and blinking hard against the flashes. She walks into his back from where he’s stopped abruptly, and ends up clutching at his other arm to steady herself. Okay, they can work with that. He plasters a smile on his face and says out of the corner of his mouth, “Walk? Car is down street, around corner.”
“Yes,” Rose says, perfect smile also in place, and they go. The swarm of paparazzi only intensifies as they do, photographers popping out from cars and stores from where they’d evidently been waiting. People passing by are stopping to stare, phones coming out, and then there’s voices calling out for Rose to sign things, for him to stop for selfies and –
“Just these guys,” Rose says in his ear, barely audible over the ruckus. She gestures at two girls who are obviously not paparazzi and standing by with wide eyes, waving hesitantly at her, and lets go of Ilya’s arm to go speak with them. Ilya lets himself be pulled into a photo with a bunch of guys in Raiders jerseys, accepts some yelled congratulations for the game yesterday as he signs some photos, and then turns in time to see the crowd converging on Rose, people starting to shove to get up close.
“Woah, woah, okay,” he shouts, using his captain's voice that usually works in sold out stadiums. “Everybody, let’s back up –”
He is trained to elbow his way into places and does so now, trying to get to Rose. She’s still smiling, but her eyes have gone wide. There’s an escalating fervour in the crowd that makes Ilya’s hackles rise, like it does when he can feel a fight incoming. It feels like a scrum, except a hockey scrum has rules – technically – or at least a ref. Here, it’s something else.
He’s almost by her side when a guy shoves his way between them, phone raised, and shouts in Ilya’s face, “Hey Rozanov – enjoying Hollander’s sloppy seconds?”
Ilya’s brain goes quiet. Around him, those within earshot react – gasps, shouts, jeers. He knows Rose has heard because he can see her in his peripheral vision, and he sees the moment her expression falls, like the light draining from her beautiful face, and he –
He grips the man’s arm – ostensibly to steady himself from where he’s being jostled, but really to squeeze the man’s wrist until he can feel its bones. Ilya leans right in and says clearly, “English still not good. Want to explain sloppy seconds to me?”
The man swallows visibly, trying to pull his arm back, but Ilya doesn’t let go. He’s dimly aware of every phone and camera nearby now pointed at him, but he doesn’t care.
“Insult a woman like that again,” Ilya says, letting himself smile – the one that has even enforcers rethinking their choices – “I dare you.”
With that, he shoves the man away and holds his hand out to Rose, who grabs it immediately. “Coming through,” Ilya calls, and finally, people start parting, letting them duck around the corner and towards the waiting car. They both pile inside, and the slam of the car door seals them in. His ears ring in the sudden silence, and his own voice is jarring when he confirms his address with the driver, and they pull away from the curb.
Ilya blows out a breath, forcing his shoulders down before turning to Rose. She is looking out of her window, hands clasped in her lap. When the streetlights wash over her, her face is pale.
“Rose,” Ilya says quietly. “Are you okay?”
“I’m sorry,” she replies, not looking at him. “I didn’t realise…someone must’ve seen one of us and leaked the location. I’m blacklisting that restaurant for sure, Jesus –” her voice trembles, and Ilya doesn’t hesitate this time to take her hands in his. Her fingers are cold, her entire body coiled tight.
“Hey,” he says. “Can you look at me?”
When she does, her eyes are heavy with unshed tears, jaw clenched.
“That was scary,” he says, and she chokes out a sound that could have been a laugh.
“I bet it wasn’t for you,” she starts, but he shakes his head, keeping her gaze.
“No, that was batshit,” he says, and she manages a better laugh. “I don’t care if you’ve faced it before, that was batshit.”
“Yeah,” she says, and reaches into her purse to get tissues. Ilya makes deliberate eye contact with the driver in the rearview mirror, who gives a miniscule nod and looks firmly ahead. Rose dabs carefully at her eyes and takes two shaky inhales before exhaling slowly, and Ilya nods in encouragement and does the same. His own heart is still racing.
“I love what I do,” Rose says finally. “And I am so, so lucky. But this part is…”
“Shit,” Ilya says definitively. “You can just say it, remember? With me.”
“Thank you,” she whispers, and then drops her gaze. “And thank you for – what you did. With that guy.”
“Don’t thank me,” Ilya says, feeling an echo of that same anger he’d felt in the restaurant, heavy in his chest. “I should have taken out his teeth.”
“Oh, geez,” Rose says, pressing her fingertips to her temples. “I mean, yeah, I would’ve backed you on that, but it’s going to go viral enough as it is, I can see it now…” She groans. “Fuck, I need to call my team. This is not what they need even if the campaign’s basically done –”
Ilya shakes his head. “Rose, you didn’t do anything wrong. Nothing, okay? Just assholes being assholes.”
“Yeah, but it doesn’t matter what I do,” Rose says, dropping her hands. She looks so tired, suddenly, tired and small. “And I know I can’t care about what people say, it’s just…” She leans back against the leather seat, tilting her head towards him. “People will think we’re dating now. That I’m going from Shane to you.”
“Okay, so you have good taste in men,” Ilya says, and then carries on hastily at her expression. “I know, I know, it’s shit. But like you said – you can’t care. And we will handle it, how you want. It will be fine.”
“I didn’t mean to make trouble for you,” Rose says, and Ilya shakes his head, lips pursed.
“No trouble,” he says. “We both know how easy they will make this story for me versus you.” He thinks of Sveta; he thinks of what he can do. “I can call my people too, we can align. I have new manager this season, they are very good.”
He has new management courtesy of some quiet groundwork by Yuna, in preparation for their future plans. Not Yuna herself, of course, but trusted connections of hers, highly recommended. It’s already paying off – his whole experience outside of hockey is starting to shift.
“Okay,” Rose says, “Sounds good.” She exhales. “Seriously though, thank y –”
“Please,” Ilya says, suddenly unable to hear those words from her. “If anything, I should be…I should be thanking you.”
Rose frowns. “What for?”
Seriously, these people. Ilya glances at the driver, who’s still staring studiously ahead, and takes a breath. “For Jane,” he says. “For how kind you were to her.”
“Oh, not you too,” Rose says, sounding more like herself. “What did Jane say, I’m sure they exaggerated –”
“No, I don’t think so,” Ilya replies. “Anyone else would have been angry, or embarrassed, or even vengeful after they found out.”
“Well, that’s a shit way to live,” Rose says. “You should’ve seen hi – her, Ilya. It was so clear she was trying her damndest, but something just wasn’t right. She was perfect with me in all the ways she could be, and we really did spend that short time becoming good friends.” She shrugs. “So no, even if it was a shame for me, I wasn’t angry, or embarrassed, or anything like that. Just…sad, to be honest, for Jane.” She inclines her head. “Until now, of course.”
Rose smiles at him, and he marvels at her, and the light that’s returned to her face. He feels illuminated by it, warmed by sheer proximity. He has so much more light in his life nowadays.
“Well,” he says, “I am grateful.”
He is indebted, no doubt – but when it’s Rose, he finds he doesn’t mind it so much.
--
Shane is reading on the couch when they get home.
“Don’t check your phone,” Ilya says, which only makes Shane immediately reach for his device. Luckily, he’s waylaid by Rose appearing in the doorway behind Ilya, which makes him straighten with a smile.
“Oh hey,” Shane starts. “I didn't realise you were coming over after…” He stops, taking in both their faces. “Wait. What happened?”
--
“It’s like a fucking war room in there,” Ilya says some time later, flopping down next to Shane on the couch. He’s left Rose in the study with a fresh pot of tea, after they’d covered what Ilya would do (nothing) or say (not much) when he’s inevitably asked about her. “There’s so many people involved, giving opinions, telling her what to do. Stupid.”
“It’s complicated,” Shane says, pulling him close. “Her world is crazy. What did your side say?”
“Not much. It’s giving me good press, if anything. Apparently basic chirp is very heroic now,” Ilya replies, rolling his eyes. “People focusing more on insult to Rose right now, than bad blood between us. They said they would contact Yuna, though.”
“On it,” Shane says, waving his phone before putting it down. “We’ll tweet something tomorrow morning.”
“Okay,” Ilya says, and the fatigue hits him all at once, making him go boneless against the solid warmth of Shane’s side. Shane hums and runs his fingers through Ilya’s hair, brushing back the curls.
“How were things before that, though?” he asks. “How was dinner?”
“Oh,” Ilya says, and knows that Shane can hear the smile in his voice without even seeing it. “It was alright, I guess.”
“You guess,” Shane repeats, laughing softly. “Rose Landry not so terrible after all, huh?”
“I don’t know Rose Landry,” Ilya says, closing his eyes and resting his head against Shane’s shoulder. “But Rose is not so bad.”
~*~
They’re in the gym in late January when the Oscar nominees are announced. Ilya can’t help the smile that spreads across his face as he watches the TV, or his celebratory fist pump when Rose is named under the Best Supporting Actress category.
“Woah, I thought you said the rumours weren’t true, Rozy,” Marleau says next to him. “You and Rose?”
“Ha, Roz and Rose,” Connors adds. How does Ilya always end up between these two idiots? “Did you just want to say your own name in bed, or is this still about fucking with Hollander?”
“Shut up, both of you,” Ilya says, smacking them simultaneously without slowing down on the bike. “No rumours. Just friends. She’s good actress, I know you cried watching that movie, Connors.”
“Who didn’t?” Connors replies, and dammit, it’s tough being on a team with decent people. Connors raises his voice and calls to the gym at large, “Hey, Oscars watch party at the Captain’s house!”
Well. Mostly decent.
“No such thing!” Ilya says, but it’s too late, there’s a chant already starting. “None of you deserve my couch after last time –”
“You saying no party because you’ll be at the Oscars, Mr Landry –?”
Ilya’s saying no to the party because if their schedules align, he’ll be on the phone with Shane. But he doesn’t call the team off just yet. It’s bittersweet, looking at them and knowing where his future lies. It’s difficult, trying to predict who will stay close after he moves, and then, later, after he stops hiding.
But for now, he loves them and they love him, and he will try to enjoy every minute of it.
~*~
February gifts them a little time together. David tells Ilya that Shane’s been going stir crazy, waiting for his arm to finish healing. Ilya does not tell David about how he’s been keeping Shane entertained.
He’s laid out on Shane’s couch, recovering while Shane is in the shower, when his phone buzzes.
Rose at 2:42pm
Brothers are beside themselves. Still can’t believe I ‘dumped’ Shane, can’t believe I know you but aren’t dating. I think they’re seriously questioning if I’m a lesbian after this.
Lily at 2:42pm
If considering women, I have good friend who’d love to meet you.
Are brothers being shits? I can deal with shit brothers.
+ shit fathers. How is he being?
Rose at 2:43pm
Appreciated – but nah all good, they’re just joking. And jealous 😉
Dad = surprisingly ok. I think mom had a strong word with him.
Lily at 2:44pm
Mothers best.
Rose at 2:44pm
She really really is. I’m taking her to the Oscars with me!
Lily at 2:45pm
Very exciting. But where is my invite?? Teammates all asking. They are jealous too )))
Rose at 2:46pm
Hahaha I can always show up to a game if they want 😌
Lily at 2:47pm
No, they will just get distracted and lose. Embarrassing.
Rose at 2:47pm
Sounds like something the captain should sort out, don’t you think?
Ilya snorts, looking for an appropriately unimpressed gif to send.
“Who’s that?” Shane asks, walking by in nothing but a towel. Ilya drops his phone immediately. “Svetlana?”
“No, Rose,” Ilya says, watching over the back of the couch as Shane gets water from the fridge. There’s still droplets of water running down his neck. Shane turns his head and raises an eyebrow at him.
“Really,” he says, drinking from his glass.
Ilya watches his throat and replies, “Yes, really. Is that so surprising?”
“It might be, for someone who keeps saying their dinner was just alright,” Shane says. He finishes his water and walks back to the bedroom, speaking as he goes. “I’d ask you for more details, but luckily Rose is better at recounting things than you.”
“Maybe she lies,” Ilya calls back. It’s oddly domestic, the simple act of continuing a conversation while they move around a shared space. That someone is there even when you can’t see them, wanting to speak with you. “Maybe she misquote me.”
“Oh, so you didn’t tell her about the time I got chased by that killer bug and nearly fell into the lake?” Shane says, returning with shorts on and an accusatory expression on his face. “And you and my mom just laughed at me?”
“It was funny,” Ilya says, pulling Shane down beside him. “And payback for the loon.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Shane grumbles, and swings his legs over Ilya’s lap. They kiss, but it’s sweet rather than filthy, quietly contented. Maybe Ilya has finally managed to tire Shane out. Shane rests his forehead against Ilya’s for a moment before saying, “I’m glad you two are getting along. Rose says you might be funnier than me, even.”
“Her bar is very low,” Ilya says, and gets a jab in the ribs for his troubles. He catches Shane’s hands and doesn’t let go. “She is funny too. Even if she just likes to chirp me. Very mean, really.”
Shane smiles. “Uh huh, sure.” He runs a hand along Ilya’s shoulder. “She says you’ve been really great about the incident after dinner, by the way. That how you’re handling the press is really helping her side of things. She says she’s had other actors be terrible about it, and they’re way better trained than us.”
Ilya narrows his eyes. “She said a co-star – what was it – threw her under the bus, before. I tell her we hire another bus.” He mimes running over something along Shane’s arm, and Shane laughs, eyes alight in the afternoon sun.
“Wow, okay,” he says. “With your Captain Crazy Eyes out and everything.”
“My what?” Ilya says, mock-outraged, and they grapple for a moment before returning to the conversation.
“Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s awesome,” Shane says. “I just didn’t expect you two to become such good friends so quickly.”
“Not friends,” Ilya replies, and Shane scoffs.
“C’mon, Ilya –”
“No,” Ilya continues, shaking his head. “I mean maybe, yes, friends. But also…” He tilts his head, trying to figure out the English. “Family.”
Shane blinks at him. “Oh. Uh… I mean, wow. Okay.”
Ilya nudges him with his foot. “Don’t overthink it. I’m just saying.”
“Just saying that Rose Landry is like family to you?”
Ilya gestures with one hand. “She is like family to you, yes? Very good friend who knows everything, keeps secrets. Can trust with life.”
“I…” Shane starts, considering it. “Well, yes. When you define it like that.”
“Right,” Ilya says. “So if like family to you, then is family to me.” He shrugs. “Like Sveta.”
“Okay,” Shane says, because that is probably the clearest explanation Ilya can give. “I get that.”
Ilya knows he does; knows that no matter what Shane feels about Svetlana, he will respect and support her because she is what counts as Ilya’s family – not by blood but by choice; by loyalty and action, care and time. Ilya doesn’t know if he’s thought about it so clearly until right now, sitting on this couch, talking about Rose. Not in English anyway, but it feels right, saying it out loud.
Shane clears his throat and says, “Well, I’m glad. And I’m looking forward to meeting Svetlana properly.” He looks away. “I hope we get along like you and Rose.” He keeps going before Ilya can reassure him. “And of course – of course any family of mine is yours. Friends, family… all of it.”
Ilya takes Shane’s hand and presses his lips to it. “Same here. Even if I do not have many to offer.”
“You have more friends than me,” Shane is quick to point out. “And Svetlana sounds like a whole army all by herself.”
Ilya smiles. “Yes, she will like that description.”
The conversation moves on; they laugh, they kiss, they make dinner together. Through it all, Ilya thinks of Shane saying any family of mine is yours, and doesn’t think all the ice in the world could douse the warmth in his chest. Yes, he thinks. Ours.
~*~
Rose at 4:25pm
[Picture attachment]
The Landry gals are red carpet ready!
Jane at 4:32pm
You both look amazing. Is your dress comfortable to sit in?
I’ve been reading about win probabilities based on past awards and odds are looking good. Good luck!
Lily at 4:33pm
Ignore him, Rose. You both look 🔥🔥🔥 incredible 🔥🔥🔥 You did not mention you had sister?
Rose at 4:35pm
@Jane I love you, never change. Thank you ❤️ Dress is ok to sit in, just very corseted.
@Lily you sweet talker! Mom is very flattered. And nervous. More nervous than me, maybe 😂
Lily at 4:36pm
It’s okay. Tell her they are blind if they didn’t vote for you, and you pity them.
Jane at 4:37pm
Is that what you tell yourself when I win more awards than you?
Lily’s right though, Rose. You deserve it.
Rose at 4:38pm
Hahaha thank you both. It’s hard to laugh in this dress but I’ve managed it. See you on the other side!
--
Lily at 10:32pm
I know I already said congrats in the group chat, but congratulations again Rose. Maybe voters not so blind after all.
Rose at 10:41pm
THANK YOU!!!!! I am still in shock. Oscars are heavy. Can’t believe after parties now?? THANK YOU.
Rose at 10:52pm
I am so grateful we got to meet at the start of this year, Lily. Your words really helped me through these crazy few months. I thought of them when I got on stage, otherwise I would have frozen. I still don’t know what I said, but I said something at least! So thank you. Hope to catch up again soon.
Lily at 10:59pm
I am grateful too. I don’t think I said anything special but I’m glad it helped.
Your speech was beautiful. Especially what you said about your mother. I am glad she was right there to hear it.
Enjoy your night, Rose. Speak soon.
~*~