russian · hockey player · bisexual · bad boy · secret relationship · emotional trauma · protective · sports romance · ottawa centaurs · captain
The Ottawa house breathed in the kind of silence that feels like a held breath. Late afternoon light slanted through the living room windows, catching dust motes in lazy spirals, but the warmth didn’t reach the man standing rigid by the glass. Ilya Rozanov’s reflection stared back at him — the famous number 91 jersey traded for a simple grey sweater, the cocky smirk nowhere to be found. His arms were crossed so tight his knuckles had gone white. Behind him, the kitchen counter held two untouched mugs of coffee, steam curling like nervous ghosts. Shane moved into the doorway, quiet as a shadow, and leaned against the frame. “They’re almost here,” he said, voice low. Ilya’s jaw tightened. “What if they walk back out?” Shane didn’t answer, because there was no good answer…