Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandoms:

Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types, Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid

Relationships:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Jean-Jacques Boiziau | J. J. Dagenais & Shane Hollander & Hayden Pike

Characters:

Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov, Jean-Jacques Boiziau | J. J. Dagenais, Hayden Pike, Montreal Voyageurs | Montreal Metros Team Ensemble (Game Changers), Svetlana Vetrova, Cliff Marlow | Cliff Marleau

Additional Tags:

Texting, Texting Fic, Wrong Phone Number, Unknown phone number, Hockey Player Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov Was Never a Professional Hockey Player, Grad Student Ilya Rozanov, Fake/Pretend Relationship

Language:

English

Series:

Part 7 of Hockey and Melodrama

Stats:

Published: 2026-10-26 Words: 3,806 Chapters: 1/10

Will you be my Lily?

Summary

Exhausted and annoyed with his teammates' nagging, Shane Hollander makes the stupidest, most childish decision of his adult life. He makes up a fake girlfriend.
Her name is Lily (after his neighbour's cat); she is from Boston (so no one asks too many questions). To make the lie somehow believable, he saves and texts a random number, accidentally starting a conversation that might just change his life.

Notes

Back after a hiatus of sorts (I might or might not have slightly overcommitted to a Big Bang event), after focusing mostly on drawing I have missed writing like crazy, and I've always wanted to give a texting fic a shot.
This fic is my new passion; I'm not sure how fast I'll be with posting, as I'm still finding my way around the html (and here I thought I'd never touch that again lol, this fandom is doing crazy things to me), but I'll try to keep it consistent!
The messages were made with the help of this incredible guide https://fanfictemplates.com

Chapter 1: I like being your Lily

Shane cannot wait for everyone to stop talking about Comeau’s fucking birthday party. Not only is he being obnoxious, talking about nothing else and hyping everyone up like he's a five-year-old his parents promised a pony. Shane cannot imagine celebrating turning thirty. Half a career over, maybe more, when he still has so much to prove. But maybe it's different for Comeau, whose career already reached the highest peak it ever would— existing.

Of course Shane says none of it. He is a good captain, and his teammates are his brothers, a family he cannot choose, each with their own quirks and obnoxious habits. He has no illusions that he’s any better in that regard, getting on their nerves with his own habits and routines as they get on his with theirs. But they stick together, like a family does, putting away their differences and working together, supporting each other.

So he does his job, as their captain, plasters on a smile and promises his attendance, and delegates to Hayden (fully aware and only partially guilty that he’s actually delegating to his wife, Jackie) to order a cake for the guys to surprise him with, and to J.J. the task of collecting a contribution from everyone for a gift from the group. The rest is tasked with gift suggestions, and they come up with a set of expensive whiskeys among their less offensive ideas.

What remains for Shane to do is grit his teeth and keep the smile on as the inevitable question comes.

“So, cap, you bringing someone to the party?”

Shane knows for a fact that Comeau doesn’t need a headcount. There will definitely be more food than everyone can eat, more alcohol that they could drink over a week-long bender, and half the people who promise to come either won’t bother or don’t stay long enough to matter.

Still, he and half the team turn to Shane, expecting an answer.

“Just me, Gil,” Shane deflects with a smile on his lips, as he always does. “What, am I not enough for you?”

The guys laugh politely as they always do, but they don’t try to hide their reactions, which range from disappointment to concern, all the way to something akin to suspicion.

Shane tries not to react, other than an appropriate eye roll.

The truth is, he has never been good at relationships, and never found much thrill in casual sex either. He used to think it wasn’t a big deal. With every aspect of his life moulded around hockey, there simply wasn’t time to focus on relationships, but his friends seemed to take his failure personally for whatever reason.

“You know, Jackie has this friend—” Hayden starts, a sentence Shane has heard too many times, and it never ends well. Jackie Pike has many friends, and Shane doesn’t need to meet and disappoint all of them.

Maybe them being friends of Jackie is the problem, but he doesn’t say that to Hayden. Instead, twice a year he grits his teeth and suffers through a dinner with women who come into the evening expecting a mysterious brooding hero from a fairytale who can be turned into the man of their dreams with a kiss and made to propose within the next couple of months. He can thank Hayden for setting a precedent on that, and Jackie for not seeing it as fucking insane but expecting him to do the same, if she just finds the right friend for him.

“Just drop it, man,” Shane stops him, harder than necessary, but the team is still gathered around him, and he does want the conversation to end there, resolutely and finally.

“Come on, cap. When is the last time you got laid?” Comeau smirks, but there is a less friendly tone to it than to Hayden’s offer, as if Comeau relishes the expected answer. That tone is a familiar companion, a little too happy, a little too competitive.

Then again, a mediocre defenseman like Comeau, reliable but peaking on Montreal’s third line, doesn’t often find things to compare himself to his five-years-younger captain. Shane can see how much he wants to, and he would pity him if he didn’t take such clear pleasure in it.

Instead, he tries to match his condescending tone. “How the fuck is that any of your business?”

“Just wondering. You know you can come to us for tips if you need them? That’s what older teammates are for.”

The offer stinks for miles, no matter how sweetly it is delivered. Comeau talking to him, not like his captain, but like he’s a rookie. A child, even.

It reminds Shane of high school, the pretence and jealousy, the friends who smile into each other’s faces and whisper behind their backs. It doesn’t bother him, usually. Comeau is just another mediocre player trying to make up for his lack of distinguishable skill by dominating the locker room instead of the ice. He’s not the first big ego that cannot handle the company of better players that Shane had to put in their place, and he won’t be the last.

Maybe it’s the high school behaviour, after weeks of the world already spinning around Comeau because of the party. Maybe it’s the exhaustion of tough practice after a night of poor sleep. Neither is an excuse for how Shane reacts— like he’s a fucking high school kid himself.

“You can’t expect me to want to share details about who I’m with with too many people, not with how the Metros’ fans are. I thought you’d understand, after the mess last week.”

That’s right. He might be a bit more classy about it than a high schooler, but he does, in a moment of desperation and teasing by his peers, invent a girlfriend. Or hints at one, at least.

“So that shit is real?” J.J. practically jumps at him, slapping his shoulders harder than necessary in his excitement, and soon, the team joins. Shane tries to calm them, tries to say that no, he is not dating Rose fucking Landry, as the tabloids thought when they accidentally appeared at the same private event last weekend, but there is no chance of that until everyone has their turn.

In truth, Shane never even spoke to her or knew she was there until he saw the photos speculating why she came alone and if her date was maybe already waiting for her, then listing all the single guys she could have potentially been meeting, landing on him.

That’s what he gets for trying to leave his comfort zone and try someting new. Thanks for the tip, mom.

What followed was a disaster: fans both happy and unhappy, searching for any clues of a relationship that didn’t exist, going as far as trying to break into his apartment building and hack his email account. It was a nightmare that led to multiple police visits to his building, a new phone and number, a bunch of new passwords, and even a talk of private security that was consulted but luckily never got called.

His and Rose Landry’s agents had to get together and release a statement putting things right and asking for privacy and peace. It worked, mostly. This week there were only a couple of death threats — this time, they came from someone claiming they were the only person truly deserving of Miss Landry— and one late-night attempt to get past his doorman just last night that had Shane talking to the police at three a.m. and losing precious sleep before the morning practice.

“I’m not dating Rose Landry!” Shane shouts for what feels like a millionth time. The atmosphere in the room freezes again, all the ground Shane earned with his lie lost like he never owned it in the first place.

So Shane sees no other way than to keep digging himself deeper. “What I’m saying is, I don’t want my girl going through the shit I just went through. So I don’t mention her, and neither will anyone in this room, right, guys?”

 

Finally alone in his living room, Shane has to turn his phone off just to think. The Metros’ group chat hasn’t quieted since the lie, and privately, both Hayden and J.J. are airing their disappointment at Shane for keeping his girlfriend from them. The one that, crucially, doesn’t exist.

Shane buries his face in his hands, cursing himself for the shortsightedness of his lie. Knowing it’s too late to back out now, he sets out to make a plan. Pen and paper — that he can shred and burn afterwards because there will be no proof, certainly not anywhere that can be hacked or stolen. A cup of coffee, and a private search in his browser; he sets to work.

He wishes this was one of the tasks he could just hire someone to take care of, or delegate. He’s always surrounded by people paid to solve all of his problems, ideally before they can even happen, so he can focus on hockey. But this situation is too embarrassing, too delicate to share with anyone.

So. Shane Hollander’s perfect secret girlfriend. Who is she?

Shane tries to put together the bare minimum; the fewer details he needs to remember, the better.

First, she needs to live out of town and work a lot, so there’s a reason she cannot attend team outings the WAGs usually come to. But she must also be someone he could reasonably meet.

So, somewhere they play often? Like Ottawa, or Toronto… or Boston. Boston would be perfect, in a way, another reason why Shane would keep her secret. Hockey players are a superstitious bunch after all.

Okay, so his girl is from Boston. And her name is… Lily. A common enough name that if someone notices it’s the name of his neighbour’s cat, it will just be a cute coincidence.

For her looks, he settles on his mother’s favourite actress from the nineties — someone whose photos he can look up and make sure the details stay consistent.

That part is easy. Pretty, blonde Lily from Boston. For work, she’s… a teacher. Yes. Important work. Busy. Can’t just leave in the middle of the school year to travel to her boyfriend’s friends’ parties and BBQs.

Now for the hard part. How does Shane Hollander with a girlfriend act differently from the regular Shane Hollander?

He can’t be too obvious. He’s been keeping her secret so far; he can’t just completely flip his behaviour now. He has to be subtle. And maybe it can be a good thing too, getting to blow off some of the more tiring outings to go see his girl.

Outside of that, they would probably text? Maybe he can fake that, just a little. Spend a bit more time on his phone around the team, act a little mysterious if they ask.

Sure, he can pull that off. And if they ask to see — well, he doesn’t have to show them anything. With the whole Rose Landry drama, they can’t really blame him for being careful and keeping his girl off his phone. Or having no chat history or anything.

Although he should probably have her number.

Shane looks up the Boston area code and adds random digits after, saving the number under Lily. With apologies to the stranger at the other end, he fires three quick texts into the void, hoping whoever sees them will choose to ignore the obviously wrong number texts.

Mercifully, ‘Lily’ doesn’t reply by the time the next morning Shane is back in the Montreal locker room for another practice. He’s aware of the eyes on him, and he tries to act like he isn’t. The escape of burying his face in his phone is a welcome one. Usually, he tries not to do that, to give his team the full attention they deserve. But maybe this is a good thing, he thinks as he opens the messages on his phone.

The app is silent and empty as it always is— two texts from his mother about a potential new brand deal she is negotiating are the only new items in his inbox. Under that sits the one-sided conversation with ‘Lily’.

Shane opens it, just because he can see everyone watching, and it would be embarrassing to be caught texting his mother when everyone is hoping to catch a glimpse of his girlfriend. Yeah, that would not be good; he can already imagine the teasing.

So he opens the chat labelled Lily and types in another message, one he has no intention of sending. Except—

“Who are you texting there, capitaine?” J.J. startles him enough for his thumb to hit the send button without his consent.

Shane fumbles with his phone, intentionally hiding it too slowly, allowing J.J. and Hayden, appearing over his other shoulder, a glimpse.

“Lily? Who’s Lily, Shane? When will you introduce us?”

His phone— or, ‘Lily’, chooses precisely that moment to ping back. Without thinking, Shane throws it into his bag before anyone can see the confused message that is no doubt coming, letting he know he has the wrong number.

“It’s not that serious, guys,” he replies to J.J.’s question, trying to make them forget about the phone. “It’s, it’s not been that long, okay? No introductions yet.”

“Oh, not serious he says. Hayden chuckles, “Our captain, who never before let himself get distracted by his phone before practice. Love changes you, man.”

Shane tries to protest, knowing Hayden and knowing that if he’s talking about love, he’ll be dragging him ring shopping in the next month, probably. But it’s to no avail; Hayden is shaking his shoulders, grinning from ear to ear.

“Aren’t you going to text back?” J.J. interrupts. “Girls don’t like being ignored, cap.”

Shane tries to explain that ‘Lily’ would know he is working, but neither of his friends is going anywhere.

Sighing, he doesn’t try to be subtle as he climbs as far into his stall as the bulky gear permits to shield his phone from their sight. They don’t try to be subtle either, leaning over him no matter how far back he goes. With a hand over the top of his phone display, he opens the message.

Shane almost laughs, silently thanking the stranger that, for whatever reason, decided to play along. Belately, he realises they might be trying to catfish him and pose as someone he was actually trying to text. He should be very, very careful not to share too much information or say anything that could identify him—

His phone is no longer in his hand, gone before he can finish the thought, and J.J. is using it to—

“Shane Hollander!” J.J. screams at his phone, unnecessarily, as everyone in the room is already looking at him. “You’re dating a Boston fan? What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

J.J.’s sentiment is echoed across the room by groans and boos, but even Shane can tell they sound more amused than honestly disgusted. He smiles and fights the panic threatening to take over his face as he snatches the phone back, looking at the messages exchanged between J.J. and the mysterious ‘Lily’.

He’s glad the stranger said nothing, terrified they know who he is now, that they have his number and know now it belongs to Shane Hollander and they know who he is and clearly they are not a fan.

He just changed the number too. Should he do it again, get a new one before the stranger has a chance to post it somewhere, or maybe they will post the conversation, embarrass him in front of the whole world for a few laughs, share how they catfished him, or maybe they’ll try to blackmail him…

Shane runs into the bathroom, locking himself in a stall as he starts deleting messages. The image goes first, and he can only hope it isn’t too late, that the stranger hasn’t already saved the whole conversation.

Shane thanks the universe for the offered way out before he begins frantically typing back.

 

Fuck. What was he thinking? Making up a fake girlfriend and using his private number to text a complete stranger? Did he really think he could get away with it?

“So, any special plans tomorrow?"

Shane takes a step back as Hayden appears in front of him in the moment it takes him to get the practice jersey over his head. Right. Fuck. He should have thought of that.

They’re flying to Boston the next morning, meaning everyone expects him to go and see his totally real girlfriend from Boston. Shit.

“Lily’s sick!” Shane proclaims with too much enthusiasm, which hopefully will be taken as anger or disappointment in the room. “I can’t risk getting the flu mid-season, so…”

Hayden nods, all serious, clearly thinking.

“It fucking sucks, man,” Shane adds for emphasis, and is met with a chorus of disappointed groans from his team.