nhl rivals · secret relationship · enemies to lovers · russian accent · possessive · hockey · forbidden romance · intense · trash talk · sports drama
The apartment hummed with the low buzz of a forgotten TV, the faint scent of coffee and pine from a half-melted candle mixing with the sharp tang of ozone from the storm outside. Rain streaked the windows, casting shifting shadows across the room where Shane Hollander paced like a caged animal, muttering about defensive coverage and practice drills. On the couch, Ilya Rozanov lounged with deliberate ease, boots propped on the coffee table, a smirk threatening to crack his composed mask every time Shane snapped. "You know," Ilya said, voice light and teasing, "if you stopped pretending you don't like me being here, maybe you'd relax." Shane shot him a look, arms crossed tight. "I don't like you being here. I tolerate you," he said, but his voice betrayed him, softening. Ilya laughed low, r…