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“Ooo, he’s cute,” Rose said before she sipped her margarita. Shane and Ilya both turned to look at the blond at the bar with the really nice forearms and a megawatt smile.
“Not at all subtle, guys,” she said when she’d managed to swallow instead of snorting tequila out her nose. The Centaurs were in L.A. for a few days on their California roadtrip and she’d managed to convince Shane and Ilya—and most of the team, really—to come out with her on their night off.
“Gay,” Ilya declared when he turned back around.
“You can’t know that from looking,” Rose protested.
“Unfortunately, he can,” Shane said with a laugh. “He clocked Barrett within a few days of him moving to the Cens.”
“I have not been wrong once,” Ilya declared, sipping his beer. He’d declared the vodka selection 'mid, at best' right in the face of the VIP section’s bartender, much to Shane’s chagrin and Rose’s delight.
“That’s not true,” Shane protested.
“Sweetheart, I knew at Juniors when you shook my hand twice.”
“Not me, idiot. Scott Hunter.”
“That’s not fair, he was so deep in closet even he didn’t know—”
“He went to Europe every summer to hook-up, he definitely knew—”
“Fine, but I haven’t been wrong since.”
“Okay, yeah, that part is true,” Shane agreed, sipping his own drink—a ginger-ale in a copper mug for subtlety, something L.A. managed to have sometimes.
“So, you can just… tell?” Rose confirmed. “Man, your gaydar is like a superpower. I think mine is broken.”
Ilya snorted while Shane titled his head and asked, “What do you mean?”
“I mean, and no offense babe, that I keep ending up dating super hot closeted gay dudes.” Ilya grinned into his beer; Shane snorted. “Remember I told you like 75% of my boyfriends have been gay? I swear that number is like 90% now. It’s embarrassing.”
“It’s not embarrassing—”
“Is a little embarrassing,” Ilya said.
Shane elbowed him in the ribs and kept going. “Maybe they are the ones finding you. I mean, you basically came out for me.”
“Okay, embarrassing or not, I need someone who actually wants to fuck me,” Rose said, grinning when Ilya threw his head back in full-throated laughter and Shane blushed.
“I did apologize for that, right?” Shane asked, sending Ilya into another fit of hysterics.
“You did, babe, you did,” Rose promised, still smiling.
“Hey, Amelia, what’s up?” Rose asked when she answered the call from her publicist. She’d just finished a run on her treadmill—she was filming a new superhero movie over the summer and needed to both slim down and build muscle, which meant way too much time with her personal trainer lately. Especially for the dead of winter, when all she wanted was to eat carbs and lounge around in cozy sweaters.
“We have a problem,” Amelia said, all business all the time.
“Shit,” Rose muttered, racking her brain for what it could be. She knew the ridiculous claims about her and Shane getting back together had been squashed rather effectively by Ilya sticking his tongue down Shane’s throat somewhere in downtown Ottawa, so it couldn’t be that. She’d been laying low for a while now—an attempt at reminding Hollywood she could be serious and also spark buzz for their films—so nothing else came to mind. “Just tell me. What is it?”
“The usual misogynist fuckery they roll out whenever they’re bored—you’re a slut or must be a crazy girlfriend or something. ‘Why hasn’t Rose settled down,’ and all that shit.”
Rose sighed and lowered herself onto a barstool at her kitchen counter. “Well, fuck.”
“Yeah,” Amelia said.
“It’s not like I’m not trying, Ames,” Rose muttered.
“I know that, babes. We all know that. But maybe we need a PR relationship or something.”
“I hate those,” Rose said. “And when it ends, it’ll just be more proof I can’t hold down a man.”
“I know. I was just thinking temporarily while we get time to spin it.”
“We’re getting really personal here, but I don’t want temporary, you know that.”
“I know, I know. Just think about it, okay? In the meantime, I’ll try to set up some interviews focused on your career and how you’re really trying to take your art seriously, or something, okay?”
“Okay. Yeah, okay,” Rose said, then said goodbye and put her phone down on the counter even though she wanted to throw it.
💕Shane💕
I’m serious, I think my gaydar is actively trying to sabotage me now.
What do you mean?
[Article: Rose Landry’s Inability to Hold Down a Man: What’s Wrong with Her?]
What the fuck?
They’re serious?
Yup. Maybe I can borrow Ilya’s gaydar. Think he’d let me?
Anything to get those assholes to stop shipping you and me.
Who taught you about shipping lol
Hazy. He apparently ships quite a lot of superheroes together.
Knew I loved that dork. Too bad his wife’s amazing.
Actually, wait. I have an idea.
I’m not fake-dating Wyatt. Lisa would flay me with a scalpel.
No, not that.
Are you filming anything right now? Or soon?
Nothing right now, X-Squad 4 starting in May. Why?
Shane?
What are you planning?
Equipped with a very-necessary pair of noise-canceling headphones, a month’s worth of outfits, and a pamphlet of instructions from her nutritionist and her personal trainer to hand off to Shane, Rose landed at the Ottawa airport. Shane had hired a car to pick her up, so she expected she’d see him at his house, but instead he was standing just inside the doors to the private terminal.
He grinned as soon as she was in sight, then pulled her into a quick hug before taking her larger suitcase and slinging an arm around her shoulder. “Glad you could make it.”
“Glad you invited me,” she parroted back as he led the way out to the waiting car. He loaded up her bags in the trunk as she slid into the back of the discreet vehicle, then he joined her, stretching out his legs.
“All set, John,” he called to the driver, who nodded and pulled out.
“Can’t believe you talked me into this, Hollander,” she said, as they made their way through the city.
“I honestly can’t believe you agreed,” Shane replied. “But this will be fun, I promise. Ilya’s a menace, but he does want you to be happy.”
“I won’t tell him you said that.”
“He knows he’s a menace.”
“No, that he wants me to be happy,” she teased. Shane laughed, and Rose was delighted to see how much freer he was with those now that he was living his life with his husband out in the open. He’d grown up since they’d dated, but he’d also relaxed. Rose hadn’t realized how tense he’d been all those years ago until she compared her memories to her reality.
“Okay, so, tell me the plan for tonight.”
“Tonight you get settled in, but then we’ve got a string of home games. The team usually goes out to this bar, Monk’s, after. We’ll start there. There aren’t going to be any super famous people in Ottawa though—I mean, besides the team.”
“I don’t need super famous. I need not-gay and into me. And ideally someone I could fall in love with.”
“Ideally,” Shane repeated with an affectionate roll of his eyes.
The first week of living in the Hollander-Rozanov household was surprisingly wonderful. She did need her headphones more than she’d expected, but Ilya was funny, Anya was adorable and snuggly, and Shane was one of her best friends. They had their meal plan service slot her dietary needs right in with theirs, so she didn’t even have to think about cooking most nights, and their gym was equipped with everything from yoga mats and blocks to a weight rack to an alarming variety of cardio equipment.
The Centaurs were a delightful team, and though she already knew she wasn’t a love match with any of them, she had fun with them out at the bar. She didn’t find a love match at Monk’s, nor even anyone she wanted to go home with, but it was very intriguing to sit there and point out guys who struck her fancy and have Ilya give them a quick once over and declare his judgement.
“Gay,” he declared of a man who was built more like a runner than a hockey player, but kept glancing over.
“How can you tell?”
“He’s checking out Shane’s ass,” Ilya said, his tone droll.
Rose had nearly spat out a sip of beer at that, much to the entire table’s amusement.
When the Centaurs traveled to New York for their second game against the Admirals for the season, Rose tagged along, getting her own seat on their team plane. Shane had even gotten her in touch with the coordinator in the front office so her assistant could book rooms in the same hotels on their trips for the next few weeks. New York ended up being a bust, as did Montreal and Toronto, but Rose began to pick up on the things Ilya pointed out every time she asked whether a guy was worth talking to.
There were sparks with a man in D.C., but Shane had interrupted twenty minutes into their conversation to sweep Rose’s drink away from her and pull her onto the dance floor.
“Ilya saw him put something in it,” he murmured in her ear when they were with the rest of the team again. “Don’t worry, he’s telling the manager right now.”
Rose shuddered nonetheless and didn’t leave Shane or Ilya’s side for the rest of the night, nor really the rest of that week.
It wasn’t until they were in Boston that she struck gold.
“Hey, Ilyusha,” she said while they were in a private club, partying with his old teammates.
“Mm?” he asked, sipping at his vodka as he danced with her, Shane sitting in a booth talking with some of the Boston guys.
“What’s Marley’s deal?”
The grin on Ilya’s face might’ve been a bit wolfish, but he hadn’t led her wrong yet. “Straight. Maybe bi, but I don’t think he’s ever tried it out. Or if he has, he kept it very quiet. Used to be a bit of a slut. Less so now.”
“You used to be a bit of a slut,” she shot back. “I think Shane likes it.”
“I know he does,” Ilya said with a wink. “Come, I will introduce you to him.”
💕Shane💕
[Article: Rose Landry Spotted with Long-Term NHL Player Boyfriend in Ibiza]
How was it?
Amazing. That villa you recommended? Beautiful.
You know I wasn’t talking about the real estate, right?
How was it, seriously?
[Image: Rose’s left hand. Her skin is tanned golden, her nails are done up beautifully, and on her ring finger rests a simple gold engagement ring with an emerald solitaire.]
I repeat. Amazing.
Holy shit Rose!
Congratulations!
Thanks babe.
For everything.
Always. I’m so happy for you.
You better be.
Tell that darling husband of yours that you’re both going to be best men.
Oh, you’re going to make him cry.
I would pay to see that. Send me a picture 😂