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Before Shane joined the Centaurs, he and Ilya would have to fight to find a spare moment to spend together. But now that the two share a team—and a house only thirty minutes away from the rink—they are seemingly connected at the hip. He loves being able to be around Ilya as much as possible, especially now that they are publicly together, but he longs for a little bit of alone time to decompress after a rough practice or a couple of nights on the road.
This is why Shane finds himself sitting in the cat room of the Ottawa animal shelter for the third time this week. Whenever he is there, he tells himself—and the friendly volunteers, too—that he is only looking. Shane and Ilya have had Anya for a little over a year now, but Shane has, admittedly, always been more of a cat person. Plus, Ilya is the one who spoils her, so Shane considers her to be mostly his husband’s dog.
Shane: [Photo of a tiny black cat sleeping on his lap, its face nuzzled against Shane’s stomach.]
Ilya: is cute
Ilya: what is her name?
Shane: Jellybean. How’d you know she was a girl?
Ilya: lucky guess
Ilya: jk. you always send girl cats
Shane: Well most of the cats here are girls.
Shane: I think that people tend to adopt boy cats quicker. Not sure why.
Ilya: misogynists >:(
Shane: No kidding.
Ilya: [Photo of Anya, who is laying on the couch next to Ilya. Her paws are crossed and resting on top of his lap.]
Ilya: girl animals are better pets
Shane laughs quietly, rousing Jellybean awake. She yawns and stretches her little front paws above her head before rolling onto her stomach. With his thumb, Shane brushes the fur between her ears, eliciting a purr from the kitten. According to her information sheet, she is only seven weeks old. Usually, the young ones like her are adopted within days, but Shane suspects that she hasn’t been as popular because she is missing her left eye. She is just as playful as the other cats, though, which he had realized when he first met her a few days ago. As soon as he had walked into the cat playroom on Monday, she launched onto his feet and started swatting at his shoelaces.
He had expected Jellybean to be just as excited when he arrived today, but she was eager to climb into his lap and get pets from him. Still, he is just as happy with her cuddling up on him as he is when she is pouncing on him.
“Oh my gosh, Mom.” A little girl presses her face against the window of the room Shane and Jellybean are in. She points at him, then looks at her mother. “Look. It’s Shane Hollander.”
The door to the room opens, and the girl rushes inside.
“Honey! Slow down,” her mother calls after the girl, shuffling behind her and into the playroom. “Hi. So sorry, we don’t mean to bother you. She’s just a huge fan.”
“No worries,” Shane says. His heart jumps when Jellybean stands up, but, to his surprise and relief, she does not leave his lap. “What’s your name?”
“Lila. Is this your cat?”
Shane frowns. “No, I wish. This is Jellybean.”
“Can I pet her?” she asks, reaching a hand out.
“Of course,” he says, fighting back a cringe. Of course Jellybean isn’t his cat, but he feels oddly territorial over her. Who knows what germs this little girl has on her hands? What if she gets Jellybean sick?
“What happened to her eye?” the girl asks, pointing at Jellybean’s missing eye as she pets her. “It’s gone.”
“I’m not sure,” Shane answers honestly, readjusting so the girl couldn’t pet her anymore. “She might’ve been born that way.”
“Lila, sweetie, let’s not bother Mr. Hollander on his day off, okay?” the mother offers, her face scrunched in apology.
“Aw, but can I at least get a picture?” the girl whines with a pout.
“Of course. Let me, uh…” Shane looks around for somewhere to set down Jellybean, settling on a cat tree that is out of reach from the girl. “Okay. All set.”
The mother takes a few pictures of the two before ushering her daughter out of the room. Even after over a decade of being in the spotlight, Shane is somehow exhausted by almost every interaction with “fans.” He hates calling them that word, but is there a better word for strangers who know pretty much everything about you?
Shane retrieves Jellybean from the top of the cat tree, and she quickly nuzzles back into his arms. He checks his phone to see a few missed texts from his husband.
Ilya: so
Ilya: i think Anya is ready for a little sister
Ilya: if you wanted to get her
Ilya: jellybean, i mean
“How does that sound?” he asks the kitten, who has already fallen back asleep. She is purring so loudly that it feels as if she is vibrating, sending a wave of calm over Shane.
Shane: Are you sure? What about when we have to travel?
Ilya: yes
Ilya: the hotel we leave Anya at during away games also takes cats
Ilya: i already called