FAVOURITE QUOTES & PASSAGES FROM RACHEL REID'S BOOKS
Quotes that makes you swoon, inner thoughts that makes you cry, and extra details that make the TV adaptation even more enjoyable, this page documents all the memorable quote and passages from all 9 of Rachel Reid's books - The Game Changers Series, plus Time to Shine and The Shots You Take.
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God, the hottest man in the world is standing in front of me and I am wearing an apron and a strawberry baseball cap.
“Because he just lit up like the goddamn sun. Jesus. You guys are doomed.”
He looked up at Kip, and he knew. He knew for sure. Scott Hunter was in love.
She picked up a knife and held it near the center of the cucumber. “Okay, you tell me when I hit the approximate length.”
“No.”
She moved the knife a bit.
“Come on. I’m not doing this.”
She moved it again and raised an eyebrow.
Kip glared at her, and then rolled his eyes and said, “A bit farther.”
Maria screamed. “Oh my god! I knew it! You lucky bitch!”
“Like I said, words like that are so common on the ice that they don’t even mean anything.”
“Until they do,” Kip said quietly.
Until they do.”
“What’s wrong with the closet? It’s a wonderful place crammed full of professional athletes.”
Back in his room, Scott made a list on the hotel stationery of what he stood to lose if he made his announcement.
Money, respect, endorsements, fan support, friendships, privacy, and, in a worst-case scenario, his career.
He made a list of what he stood to lose if he didn’t make the announcement.
His sanity, his self-respect, Kip.
Kip.
“Scott, shut the fuck up for a second. I’m gonna process this shit, and then I am gonna give you a manly hug. But just shut it for five seconds.”
“Kip! That is the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever heard! Are you kidding me with that shit?”
“Scott is my...friend,” Kip said, “if you’re wondering why he’s here.”
“Actually,” Scott said, “I’m his boyfriend.”
Kip was stunned, but he smiled at Scott. “Yeah,” he confirmed, “we’re, um...together.”
“Oh my lord!” his mother said, her hands clasped together over her mouth. “Oh, Scott, you have chosen so well!”
“I know people have been burning their Scott Hunter jerseys, which, by the way, is not a good idea. Those are polyester, and are full of chemicals.”
"Fear is a powerful thing, but this year I found the thing that is more powerful."
The tips of their fingers touched briefly together. Shane held the bottle away from his lips and quickly squirted water into his mouth. Rozanov watched him. It was the first time that Shane felt it.
It was like the air in the room had thickened. Everything inside him was buzzing and on edge, like he was about to jump out of a plane.
He certainly had no reason to obsess over his fucking archrival. Or his archrival’s freckles. Or his dark eyes. Or the way his cheeks glowed red when he exerted himself.
We were supposed to stand alone at the top, but we will always be there together. We will keep climbing until no one else can reach us, but it will always be together.
Like an angry kitten.
“On your knees,” Ilya said softly, just to see what he would do.
Expecting Hollander to tell him to fuck off, Ilya’s breath caught in his throat as he watched him sink fluidly to the floor. His gaze stayed on Ilya. Those eyes that were always so sharp were now hazy with desire as he leaned forward to nuzzle and mouth at the bulge in Ilya’s sweatpants.
He was never supposed to have fallen in love with Shane Hollander. He should have ended it long before because now it was going to hurt so fucking much.
“When the right one comes along, you’ll know,” she said.
And Shane chickened out. Because he couldn’t tell them that the right one had come along, and it was the pissed-off Russian man who was currently heading to the penalty box on their television.
Ilya felt like he was watching all the worst things about his life getting sucked up by a tornado.
“Mine.” Ilya’s breath tickled Shane’s skin when he spoke the single word.
“Yours,” Shane said dreamily.
Ilya wanted to tell Shane that it had been one of the best days of his life. It had been awkward, sure, but Ilya felt that, if he hadn’t quite been already, he would be welcomed into Shane’s family, and that was no small thing. In fact, to Ilya, who had barely been welcome in his own family, it was huge.
He wanted to tell Shane that the closest he felt to home was when he was with him. It didn’t matter if it was in a hotel room, or Ilya’s apartment, or at that weird hideout building Shane bought in Montreal, or here at Shane’s cottage; he was himself when he was with Shane.
“I want to have a life with you. I know it will be awkward, and will still involve a lot of sneaking around for a while, but I’m playing the long game here. So, yeah. Whatever it takes, I’m in.”
“Yeah, well...sorry about your face, I guess. Not that you didn’t deserve it.”
“Is okay. My face can heal. Your face, however...”
“You are very beautiful,” Rozanov said suddenly. It was said very matter-of-factly.
As long as this was being offered, Shane would never be able to say no.
He held his breath, not wanting to make even the faintest sound that might compete with this perfect gift Fabian was giving the audience. Ryan couldn’t believe this was actually happening in front of him and that there were people in the world who were not here witnessing what was surely humanity’s most impressive achievement.
“What? About the fact that you suddenly look like bearded Captain America instead of, like, the dad in How to Train Your Dragon?”
“Find something that makes you happy, Price. Hold on to it.”
The honest answer was that Ryan couldn’t quite recall what happiness felt like, but that would be an awkward thing to admit, so instead he just said, “Sure.”
Something about being naturally awkward, shy, clinically anxious, terrified of flying, and, oh yes, gay, didn’t exactly make him a friend magnet in the ol’ locker room.
“I can make one without alcohol,” Kyle offered.
Ilya looked delighted. “Yes! A virgin Scott Hunter.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Scott grumbled.
“He looks like Hunter a bit. But younger.” He paused, and grinned. “Much younger.”
Eric’s expression got a whole lot less neutral. He didn’t reply, so Ilya kept going. “Is like if Scott Hunter had a younger brother. And that brother had a son.”
“You know you’re not any less bisexual if you never hook up with a man, right? Your sexuality is still completely valid and real, whether you have sex with one gender, multiple genders, or no one at all.”
“My whole life has been hockey. I’m not sure how I’m going to cope when that’s taken away.”
Rozanov’s face lit up. “Bisexual! This is great. Did you fuck that blond teenager yet?”
“He’s not a—” Eric bit his tongue. “He’s twenty-five.”
“Twenty-five was a long time ago for you. Do you remember twenty-five?”
"Before you met me it was a dark existence of no pancakes and weak orgasms.”
“I’ll never forgive myself if I let you waste your time on me. Your youth.”
“Fuck my youth!” It tore out of Kyle, louder than he’d meant it to. “And fuck you for thinking I can’t make my own decisions.”
“I want to be with you, Kyle. I want to be your boyfriend. Partner. For as long as you’ll have me.”
Troy’s smile looked like it had been trampled on. Not only did it not meet his eyes, it barely met his mouth.
His eyes softened, and Harris was reminded that Troy was only twenty-five.
He noticed a second tattoo, less famous and probably more recent, on Ilya’s arm, near his shoulder. It was a bird of some sort. A loon, maybe. Kind of a weird choice.
Maybe he should ask Ilya for Shane Hollander’s number. Shane was a fucking babe.
“Do you hate it here?”
“Not as much as I thought I would.”
Harris chuckled at that. “Glad to hear it.” He started walking again, and Troy joined him. “For what it’s worth, I think you’ll fit in just fine.”
“You don’t think I’m an asshole?”
Harris bit the inside of his cheek, then said, “Not as much as I thought I would.”
“I have a present for you, Barrett,” Ilya said.
“F—” Troy cut himself off. “I don’t want it, Rozanov.”
“It’s red.”
“Shoot it at a computer player!”
“Nah. It’s for you.” Everyone laughed as a red Koopa shell slammed into Troy’s car.
“You’re, like, nice. And not, y’know, ugly.”
“So you can come home to a meal that’s been cooking all day! It’s like a little husband.”
That actually made Troy laugh. “That’s bleak.”
“Said like someone who’s never known the love of a slow cooker.”
“New York. It’s, y’know. The Big Apple. And that pin was from Pride, I guess. So. Yeah.”
“Big Gay Apple.”
Across the aisle, Ilya was frantically typing something on his phone.
“When we land,” Harris said, just loud enough for Troy to hear, “I’m getting ice cream.”
There were tears in Troy’s eyes, but he managed a small smile and said, “What kind?”
The plane shuddered and jerked, and Troy squeezed his eyes closed, his lips pulled tight in a grimace.
“Cookie dough. Definitely,” Harris said quickly.
Troy opened his eyes. They were still wet. “That sounds gross.”
“When you think you are going to die, there is...what is it? Important things. In your head.”
“Like a clarity,” Troy said. “Yeah.”
Ilya nodded slowly. “Makes you think about things. What is important. What is not.”
Troy was straight, as far as Harris knew, and even if he wasn’t, he was the most beautiful man Harris had ever seen. He could do better than an apple farmer with a busted heart.
He was tossing a Frisbee with Bood and Dykstra, which was a physical activity he was actually good at.
He’d engaged in another physical activity he was good at last night, so he was on a real fitness kick lately. Practically a decathlete.
“What the fuck am I lying on?” He reached under his back and pulled out what appeared to be an extremely battered and worn-out stuffed...giraffe?
“Oh,” Harris said, reaching for it. “That’s Mr. Neck-Neck.”
Troy held it away from him, examining the well-loved toy. “Jeez. Mr. Neck-Neck has been through it.”
“Yes! Oh my god. I thought I was losing my mind. I kept smelling apples whenever you were close and I told myself I was imagining it. Jesus.”
“Fabian and Ryan is like Beauty and the Beast. Wait until you see.”
But when he skated out to salute the crowd after being named first star, there was another standing ovation that went on far longer than usual. He felt fragile after his emotional roller coaster of a day, as well as the hard-fought game, and this was too much.
There were so many signs. A lot that said We Love You, Troy and Proud of Troy Barrett and similar things. Troy couldn’t really process it.
He gave a final wave and left the ice, eyes burning. He didn’t have enough fluid left in him to cry right now.
Harris sniffed, but his eyes were bright with happiness. “So you like Ottawa now?”
Troy placed a hand on Harris’s cheek and said, honestly, “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”
“That’s why you’re my favorite son.”
“I am bisexual,” Ilya said, nodding. “Shane is super gay.”
“I’m regular gay,” Shane argued.
“We are very good at pretending to not be in love. Maybe we are bad at showing it when we are allowed.”
Kiss me, Ilya wanted to say. Kiss me and hold me in front of all these people. Pull me onstage and do it. I don’t care anymore. Please. I’m dying.
It could be because I’m depressed.
No. He was fine. Normal. It’s not like he ever stayed in bed all day crying.
Neither did Mom.
Ilya took Shane’s hand, and slipped the child-size purple heart ring onto his pinkie, down to his second knuckle. Shane huffed out a shaky laugh.
“I put a plug in before I left.”
He pulled out his phone and opened his saved photos. He didn’t keep his photos very organized, but he had one album he’d named “Boring.”
...
Ilya had been carrying these photos around like precious treasure for years, transferring them to each new phone.
I love hockey, and I deserve to have the career I want for as long as I want it. I’ve earned that. But if I had to choose...I’d choose him.”
I will never fucking forgive you if you get lung cancer and die.
Ilya watched another cloud of smoke disappear into the night sky. I know, sweetheart, he replied silently. I know.
“Why? You have a lot in common. You both are short, gay, and both think I am hot.”
“I already chose you, Hollander.”
Shane realized that most of Ilya’s posts were, in weird cryptic ways, about Shane. His entire account was like a secret diary of their relationship, full of inside jokes and little references that only Shane would understand.
Shane.
You are the best thing in my life.
I love you. Always. Maybe from the first time I saw you.
I am thinking only about you right now. A million memories. Thank you for those.
Whatever happens, I am with you. Safe in your heart. I believe it.
Because ten years suddenly seemed like an impossible wait.
“I choose you, Ilya. I promise I will always, always choose you.” Shane’s eyes began to shimmer. He took a deep breath and said, “Ilya Grigoryevich Rozanov, will you marry me?”
“Is this because I almost died?” Ilya teased.
“No. It’s because I almost died.”
“Yours,” Ilya said.
“Mine.” Shane crashed into him again, kissing him hungrily.
“What are your qualifications? We have a boring guy already: Hollander.”
“No,” Ilya said, his voice muffled by Shane’s shoulder. “I am crashing, I think.”
“You are Shane fucking Hollander,” Ilya growled. “If you ever forget that, I will drag you back in here and fuck you until you remember.”
“We—we’ll share a trophy room someday,” Shane stammered.
Ilya smiled. “Yes. A fucking empire.”
Shane tilted his head back against Ilya’s shoulder. “A dynasty,”
“I choose him. Come on, Ilya.”
“I’m marrying you, Ilya. I want to have kids with you. I want to be your date when we’re inducted into the Hall of Fame. I love you so much.”
“What I’m trying to say, and Yuna’s always been the better speaker, is I’ve always felt so lucky to have a son as wonderful as Shane that I never expected to be blessed with a second one.”
Casey could withstand being teased, and maybe even being embarrassed, but he knew if his teammates ever did anything to really hurt him, the worst part wouldn’t be the humiliation, or the disappointment. It would be the loneliness.
“Yeah, dude. You’ve got the easiest job in the world tonight. They should charge you for a ticket.”
“Clothes look weird on me.”
“You need to shop where I shop!”
“Where? Gap Kids?”
“Casey,” the monster said. “Jesus, I’m sorry. It’s just me.”
He removed the goalie mask, and of course it was Landon.
Casey crumpled to the floor. He felt like his circuits were all fried, overwhelmed by too many huge feelings at once: terror, relief, and now humiliation.
“Do you—would you maybe want to sleep...together?”
“Poke check king!”
“Yeah. If you peel a banana there’s a whole recipe for banana bread inside.”
“Fucking perfect.” Casey let out a long, happy sigh. “Thanks, buddy.”
Buddy. Right. Landon hoped his dick heard that.
He frowned as he trailed off. Then he exhaled an enormous cloud and said, “Would it be a really terrible idea if I kissed you?”
"Good idea, bad idea? What are we thinking?”
Landon was already leaning in. “Good idea,” he said, so quietly he almost didn’t hear himself. Then, a little more confidently, “Great idea.”
“Uh, yeah. You think I was bananas about you before? Bananas times a thousand now, bud.”
“You should open a pancake restaurant, Stacks’s Stacks!”
“Thank you,” he said.
“You gotta stop thanking me after sex, Landon.”
“That was more than sex. That was...a whole experience.”
Casey grinned up at him. “Sex with me is always a whole experience.”
Scientifically speaking, Landon knew it wasn’t actual sunshine that was filling his chest, but it sure felt like it.
it had the shape of a mountain lodge. If that mountain lodge ate five other mountain lodges.
“Awesome. Blowjob time.”
He wondered if it would have been easier if Landon had just dumped him. Landon’s “I wish we could but we can’t” farewell was far more devastating.
An hour later, standing in front of the giant timetable in the domestic departures terminal, he got an idea. It was probably not a good one, but in that moment he was jacked on a Venti Double Chocolaty Chip Frappuccino and anything seemed possible.
Click here to suggest it.