“Shannon’s that dog,” Troy said, pointing to the smallest dog there.
“No one owns her?” Ilya asked as he stood up. The unnamed dog squeezed between his legs.
“Not that we’ve been able to find. We know everyone around for miles.” Harris’s face turned angrier than Ilya had ever seen it. “Sometimes people drive dogs they don’t want out to the country, though.”
“And leave them?” Ilya asked, horrified. He’d grown up in Moscow and had seen plenty of stray dogs, but the idea of someone abandoning a dog that loved them—a part of their family and their home—was monstrous.
Harris nodded. “Yeah. It’s gross.”
“It’s fucking horrible,” Troy said.
Ilya headed toward the front door with five dogs all around him. Chiron walked in front, but kept turning to make sure Ilya was following. The new dog stayed close to Ilya’s ankles.
The house smelled amazing, and it was just as charming as Ilya had imagined. Packed with family history and people laughing and, yes, dogs.
“I think most people are in the living room,” Harris said, leading the way.
“Buckle up,” Troy muttered, “it gets loud in here.”
There were five people sitting in the living room. Harris went around the room, reintroducing Ilya to his two sisters and their husbands. When he got to his mom, Ilya interrupted him.
“How could I forget?” he asked silkily. “The best dance partner I have ever had.”
“Oh, stop it,” Mrs. Drover said. She was a short woman with gray hair that was cut into a stylish bob. He’d enjoyed a dance with her at a team charity event last year, which had thrilled Harris. Like her son, she was funny and easy to talk to.
“Is true,” Ilya insisted. “No one else has come close. Are you still with your husband?”
“I’m afraid so,” said a booming male voice behind Ilya. He turned and saw Harris’s dad grinning in the doorway.
Ilya sighed theatrically. “Too bad.”
Harris’s sister, Margot, stood to offer Ilya her armchair, but Ilya waved her off and sat cross-legged on the floor. “Are you sure?” Margot asked.
Ilya already had three dogs trying to climb into his lap. “Yes,” he said. “All of my friends are down here.”
Eventually they all moved to the dining room, where they crowded around a table and ate an incredible meal that included baked ham, scalloped potatoes, and, to Ilya’s delight, fresh-baked rolls.
“Dad made those,” Harris said. “They’ll go fast.”
For dessert there was chocolate cake. “This is so good,” Ilya exclaimed after his first bite. “Who made this cake?”
“Troy did!” Harris said proudly.
“With a lot of help,” Troy added quickly. “I’ve never baked a cake before. Or anything, really.”
“You bake together!” Ilya said, grinning. “That is very cute.”
Troy dipped his head, but Ilya could tell he was blushing.
After dinner, Troy asked Ilya if he wanted to go outside with him. Ilya understood that he was looking for privacy, so he nodded and grabbed his coat and hat.
As soon as they were on the front porch, Troy blew out a breath that floated into the frigid darkness as a white puff. “I love that family, but man.”
Ilya laughed. “Is a lot of talking. Like a whole pile of Harrises.” He paused. “You would probably like to be in a pile of Harrises.”
Troy nudged him with his elbow. “Shut up.” He gripped the railing at the front of the porch and gazed up at the night sky. There were already a zillion stars visible. “You know something? This has been the best week of my life.”
“Good to hear.”
“I never thought—” Troy shook his head. “I just didn’t think I could have this, y’know? Have all of it. Being openly gay. Playing hockey. Being with someone as great as Harris. I feel, like, a million pounds lighter.”
Ilya suspected he knew why Troy was telling him this. “You think I should do the same.”
“I’m not going to tell you what to do, but yeah. I think you should.”
Troy didn’t know the whole truth, though. He was right, that Ilya coming out as bisexual wouldn’t be such a big deal. Not in a bad way, anyway. But that wasn’t the biggest secret Ilya was hiding.
“I’ve gotten so many messages, or whatever,” Troy said. “People online replying to my posts. Telling me how much it means to them that I came out. I don’t read them, really, but Harris tells me about them. It’s nice.”
“That part is very good,” Ilya agreed.
“I understand hiding, but if I knew how good it felt to be out, I may have done it sooner.” He turned to face Ilya. “So that’s why I’m telling you. So you know.”
Ilya looked at him seriously. “It is not only my secret to tell.”
Troy’s brow furrowed. Then his eyes widened. “Oh. Oh! You’re with someone.”
“Yes.”
“Who’s also closeted?”
“Sort of. Yes.”
“Is it...is it who we talked about before? In New York?”
Troy had almost guessed that Ilya was dating Shane, back in New York in December when Ilya had come out to him. It had confirmed Ilya’s suspicion that anyone who learned Ilya was bisexual would figure out pretty quickly that Shane was his boyfriend.
Ilya didn’t say anything now, just like he hadn’t said anything in New York. He wanted to tell Troy that Shane would be his husband soon. He could, probably. Maybe. Except Ilya still couldn’t quite believe it was actually going to happen.
“It’s none of my business,” Troy said, breaking the heavy silence. “But, um, if it was someone like that, I can see how that would be...complicated. Yeah.”
Ilya turned his attention back to the sky, and changed the subject. “Look. The Big Dipper, yes?”
The door opened behind them and Harris stepped out. Chiron, Mac, and the new dog followed him onto the porch. The new dog immediately went to Ilya, sniffing his sneakers.
“She likes you,” Harris said.
Ilya bent and gave her some pats. “I am hard to resist.” She really was cute. And soft. And she seemed like she’d be a good listener.
“So,” Harris said slowly, “we’re going to have to find her a new home, probably.” He and Troy shared a look, and Harris added, “We love dogs here, but we don’t have room for one more at the moment.”