Rating:

Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandoms:

Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid

Relationships:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Shane Hollander & Rose Landry

Characters:

Shane Hollander, Rose Landry, Ilya Rozanov

Additional Tags:

POV Outsider, POV Rose Landry, Shane Hollander & Rose Landry Friendship, Rose Landry Finds Out About Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Good Friend Rose Landry, Post-Book 2: Heated Rivalry (Game Changers), Missing Scene

Language:

English

Series:

Part 1 of Hollanov from the Outside

Stats:

Published: 2026-07-02 Words: 4,685 Chapters: 1/1

A Love Like Theirs

Summary

Rose knows hockey. She knows the game, she knows the players. So when Shane tells her he’s starting a charity with Ilya Rozanov of all people, she has questions.

Or: Shane tells Rose about him and Ilya.

Notes

Listen, I just love Rose and Rose and Shane's friendship so much, and I would have loved to read how this conversation went, but since we didn’t get it in the books, I wrote my own version of it. Takes place during Ilya’s last year in Boston.
Many thanks to ilikaicalie and masja_17 for betaing, all remaining mistakes are because I am an eternal fiddler.

Shane is looking good. He’s dressed in a new outfit, undoubtedly picked by the stylist Rose recommended. Not that he really needs it. Rose never lied to him when she told him how cute he is. The new outfit just shows off his broad shoulders a little more, the pants tailored a little better around his thighs. There’s something else about him though, almost like a glow. Well, not a glow, really, but there’s a measure of content and relaxation in his features she never sees this early in a meet-up. Usually, while very happy to see her, Shane needs to settle into being relaxed. If Rose isn’t entirely mistaken, this is the glow of a man in love.

Interesting. Shane’s been infuriatingly tight-lipped about his past lovers—Rose is very nosy; she knows it’s not her best quality, but she can’t help it—and Rose doesn’t want to pry, but now it’s practically hitting her in the face. Still, she’s going to let Shane bring it up if he wants to. She’s a good friend like that.

The stars have aligned as they rarely do, and she’s in New York for a Colbert appearance the same day Shane has a game against the Admirals, so they’re grabbing lunch. It’s February, which means Rose is in award season hell, but Shane is far enough away from the playoffs to skip an optional skate for her.

“Half my team tried talking me into bringing them with me,” Shane says with a smile as they sit down in a secluded booth that Rose got them at a hip sushi place.

She stopped caring a long time ago what the paparazzi get from her, but she knows that it’s not the most fun for Shane to have the rumors of a renewed romance between them pop up.

“And ruin your date?” she asks incredulously.

Shane shrugs. “Only after I told them we’re just friends.”

“And they believe that?”

“I think they want to. But…”

“But,” Rose prompts and then waits. Sometimes, Shane needs a moment when things are serious or difficult.

“I’ve been thinking about coming out to the team.”

She reaches over the table and takes his hand. “Shane, that’s great.”

Shane nods. She can see the tension in his face, but he also looks determined. “Yeah, I think it’ll be okay. Probably. The guys were mostly decent about Scott Hunter coming out, so I think it’ll be okay for me too.”

“Are you going to kiss someone on the ice too?”

Shane looks horrified. “No. Fuck no. I don’t want to come out publicly. I just… want to be honest with the team. And Hayden and JJ keep trying to set me up with women, and the fact that they aren’t suspecting anything yet is kind of incredible.”

Rose doesn’t think it’s incredible at all. Most hockey players’ observational skills never make it off the ice, and Pike is too busy minding a horde of kids in his free time.

“Well, they are very straight hockey players,” Rose says, because that’s also true. “But I’m sure it’ll be fine. They’re your team. You’re their captain. You’ve led them to two cups, and if last season proved anything, it’s that they can’t win without you.”

Rose is sure that there will be guys on the team who won’t like it, but they probably won’t say anything to Shane directly, not to the man who basically singlehandedly restored their franchise to greatness.

“They won games without me; the playoffs were just brutal,” Shane says, stubbornly loyal.

Rose suppresses a scoff. Yes, Montreal is a good team, with a great goalie and a solid defense, but Shane is the one who holds the center, he’s the genius playmaker who leads one of the most dangerous lines in the league with a lethal power play.

“Okay,” Rose says, “let me know how it goes with the team, okay? If anyone is mean, I will personally storm into your locker room and let them have it.”

Shane lets out a small huffy laugh. “They’d love that. Okay, enough about me though. Tell me about you.”

So Rose talks about the endless press junket, the intense fittings for her fifteen different award gowns, her recent dry spell because it’s impossible to date as an A-list actress, and how she’d hooked up with an ex to scratch the itch.

Shane makes a face. “I thought we agreed that he doesn’t treat you well enough to deserve you.”

Rose throws her hands up. “Yeah, but the sex is still spectacular. Don’t tell me you haven’t made bad choices for good sex.”

Shane looks down, but she can see the way his lips press together to avoid a smile. He still hasn’t given her the name of the guy who’s clearly some kind of situationship, but she accepts that he’s also not out. Rose knows he’s a player, and she has gone over the Montreal roster more than once trying to figure it out, because she’s very nosy, but she also doesn’t prod Shane about it because he’s right in not wanting to out someone. Still, she is so, so curious.

She knows there’s a corner of the internet that ships Shane with Pike—something hilarious that she will never bring to Shane’s attention and hopes he never sees—but that man has four children and exudes the kind of hetero bro-love that’s kind of adorable. There are few other guys Rose could see, so she also entertained the possibility of someone on another Canadian team. She’s pretty sure looks and personality aren’t enough, if Shane is involved with another player, the guy would also have to be a good player, and that severely limits the pool of possible choices.

“Maybe,” Shane admits and then adds, because he can’t even properly lie by omission, “Actually, all of them probably.”

Rose’s heart clenches. She loves hockey, but she also hates it. The fact that this sweet, funny man has to hide who he is and who he loves breaks her heart at the same time as it makes her want to hit something.

“I’m sorry.”

Shane just shrugs.

Rose doesn’t want to prod further, not when this is a topic Shane’s reluctant to talk about in detail and she doesn’t want to interrogate him about a hidden relationship that’s probably painful to talk about.

“So this summer,” she changes topics. “I could come to the cottage again?”

Shane lights up. “Yeah, let’s do that. I have a few weeks where I’m not available, and then I’ll be working on—” he falters, looks at her a little nervously.

“Secret project?” she asks.

“Kinda. I, uh, I’m starting a charity.”

“That’s great! Why is it a secret?”

“We just want it to be done before we announce it.”

“We?” Rose asks, expecting him to say his team, maybe.

Shane takes a breath and looks down at his plate. “Rozanov and I.”

“Rozanov?” Rose repeats, not sure she heard right.

Shane nods, still not looking at her.

“Ilya Rozanov, captain of the Boston Raiders and your arch-rival since you got drafted?” Rose asks incredulously because she knows hockey. Which means she knows Ilya Rozanov and the rivalry between him and Shane.

Shane nods again. “Yeah. We, uhm, we know that that’s going to be difficult for people to understand, so we want everything to be done before we announce it.”

He’s still not looking at her, and Rose has the feeling she’s missing something here. Because Rozanov is kind of a dick and has been trash-talking Shane for as long as she can remember, and they’ve been rivals. They couldn’t be more different in play style and image, but they’re also two generational players drafted in the same year, meant to dominate the sport alone for a decade and instead always thrown together and against each other.

“Okay, just—I didn’t know you guys were friendly.”

Shane’s looking everywhere but her. “Yeah, we… I mean, the rivalry was built up so much by the league and the press, but I really respect him as a player. And he’s not actually as bad as everyone thinks he is. And then—” He breaks off, clearly at a loss for words.

And Rose remembers last season. She hadn’t been watching the game live, but she kept up with Shane’s season, and when she’d looked up the score late at night for Montreal’s last Boston game and got the news alert that Shane was in the hospital, she’d watched the recap.

She’d seen the hit, seen Shane go down, and her body had gone cold with fear because Rose knows hockey and that was a bad hit. She hadn’t paid much attention to him at the same time, but Rozanov’s large shape looming over Shane had been impossible to miss, especially when the camera had pulled away from Shane’s prone body to focus on Rozanov getting ushered away by the ref, staring in worry at Shane.

It was after All-Stars too, when Shane and Rozanov had played on the same team, had scored some amazing goals, and Rozanov had kissed Shane on the cheek.

“The All-Star game,” Rose says slowly. “Did you guys actually become friends? I thought he was just messing with you.”

“No, we—we talked, actually. It was good.”

There it is again, Shane’s small private smile.

“Huh.” Rose thinks about it for a moment. “So I guess he’s not an asshole then.” She can’t see Shane being friends with a guy who’s not a good guy.

Finally, Shane looks up to meet her eyes. “No, he’s kind of an asshole. But he’s a good guy.”

Rose smirks at that. Shane can be a little bit of a dick himself if he lets himself go, so a friendship with Rozanov might be good for him. But still, a charity together? She can’t not ask.

“Okay, but a charity?”

From a PR standpoint though, it’s genius. The interest in their rivalry and the narrative of overcoming it for the sake of charity will be huge. Rose wonders if this was Yuna’s idea. Then again, Yuna “Montreal’s number one fan” Hollander would probably rather cut off her own arm than suggest Shane start a charity with a Boston player.

“It’s something we both care about,” Shane says carefully. “And we’re tired of this rivalry stuff. Like, obviously we’ll never stop trying to beat each other on the ice, but we don’t really hate each other, and it’s kind of annoying that everyone thinks that. We just want to hang out without people freaking out.”

“Hang out?” Rose forgets all about the PR. This does not sound like PR anymore. “I mean, he’s in Boston. How many chances besides the All-Star weekend do you even get to hang out?”

She almost misses the shift in Shane’s expression, but in the last year she’s become an expert at reading Shane Hollander’s facial cues.

“What was that?”

His eyes widen. “Nothing.”

“Shane.”

He groans. “Okay, you can’t tell anyone. Seriously. This is more secret than you getting kidnapped in your next movie.”

“I’m actually not, this time. It’s a heist movie, and I’ll be doing the kidnapping, thank you very much” Rose says, still delighted by this fact, and it does break the tension a bit.

“That sounds amazing,” Shane says. “What are you robbing and who are you kidnapping?”

She points a finger at him. “No distractions. We’re going to finish your top secret charity plans before I tell you about my top secret movie.”

“Fine,” Shane grumbles. He fiddles with his glass of ginger ale. “Rozanov’s a free agent in the summer.”

Rose sucks in a surprised breath. “He’s leaving Boston?” She’s whispering now because Shane’s right, this news would break the hockey world.

Shane nods.

“Why? And where does he even want to go?”

For a brief, insane moment, Rose fantasizes about Ilya Rozanov in a Detroit jersey. Aside from Shane, Rozanov’s probably the best player in the league, and Rose loves her team but they also desperately need depth at center.

“Ottawa,” Shane says. “If it works out of course, he’s got to wait for July, but I can’t see them turning him down, he’s—fuck, are you okay?”

Rose made the mistake of reaching for her wine, and now half of it goes down the wrong pipe, and she almost dies coughing. Shane very helpfully gets up to gently pat her on the back.

“I’m okay,” she gasps, trying to get her breathing under control. “But… Ottawa! Why?”

Shane’s expression is unreadable. “He says he wants a new adventure.”

“Bullshit,” Rose says. “Ottawa is a mess. They’ve never won a cup, they haven’t been in the playoffs in ages, their goalie sucks, they don’t have even one good center, there are like a handful of guys on the team who are decent and maybe three that are good.”

“Montreal and Boston had been out of the playoffs for years too when Ilya and I got drafted. And we built up the teams to win cups.”

“Yeah, but you’ve paid your dues. You get to play on contender teams now—wait.” She blinks at him. “Ilya?” He’d said that name with a lot of familiarity. A lot of affection.

“We’re friends now,” Shane says, a little defensively. “I can call him by his first name.”

And he can, but… Ilya Rozanov, giving up Boston after a cup win and a playoff Conference final last year. To go to Ottawa. Ilya Rozanov, known party boy, womanizer, and sports car collector, going to Ottawa. Nothing about this makes any sense.

Except he’s starting a charity with Shane. Who’s in Montreal. Only a few hours away from Ottawa. Where Shane’s parents live.

It can’t be.

Except Shane’s fidgety again, a little nervous even, and he never said that the guy he’s seeing is on his team. Rose just assumed because of logistics, but it doesn’t have to be.

The thing about Rozanov is that, apart from being a great hockey player and an asshole, Ilya Rozanov is also incredibly attractive. Like, smoking hot. And he is funny too, even when he’s an asshole.

She tries to remember the footage of Shane going down against Boston, of Rozanov worried on the ice. The two of them at the All-Star game, Rozanov playing wing for Shane, scoring goals with an ease like they’ve been playing together for years, which could be explained by their sheer amount of talent, except what if it wasn’t?

“Shane...” She trails off. She can’t ask this. She boxed him into a corner once, when she asked him if he was gay, but back then, he’d been dating her, and it had been about their relationship too. This is different.

Shane looks at her apprehensively.

“You’re friends with Rozanov,” Rose forces herself to say even though she wants to grab him by the shoulders and shake him and ask him what he’s doing, apparently dating who is probably the worst possible choice in the entire MLH. “Okay. I guess I need to reevaluate what I think about him then.”

“You don’t think it’s weird?” Shane asks, shoulders dropping in relief.

“I mean, it’s a little… unexpected maybe,” Rose says, trying to find the right words, the kind, encouraging words that’ll make Shane feel safe enough to tell her the truth. God, how is she picking her way through an anxiety-charged conversation with Shane Hollander again? But she can do this.

“Like, you’ve been painted as rivals for years, and except for the All-Star game, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you not be antagonistic toward each other. But that’s just what you see in the press. And I know firsthand how unreliable that can be. So if you say you’re friends….”

Shane hesitates for a moment, then shakes his head, his eyes looking unfocused past her. “We’re not.”

Rose holds her breath.

“We’re… he’s my boyfriend, actually.” Shane looks back at her with the determination he usually reserves for a face-off. “We’re together.”

Boyfriend. It makes Rose giggle inappropriately. It’s just so… cute.

Shane looks at her in surprise.

“I’m sorry. I just... The idea of Ilya Rozanov as someone’s boyfriend is a little— actually, you know what, no, I can see it. I bet he’s all mushy inside.”

Shane blushes. “Sometimes.”

Rose is going to explode from cuteness overload.

“Oh my god. I have so many questions. Since when? Is this, like, serious? Wait, are you getting married?” She slaps a hand over her mouth, but the question’s already out. And Rose has media training, she knows how to conduct herself in public, but god, Shane’s little happy smile makes her want to squee.

“What? No?” Shane looks honestly taken aback. “Why would you even ask that?

“He’s moving to fucking Ottawa for you,” she whisper-shouts, can’t help it. “That’s as good as a proposal.”

“Ottawa is not that bad,” Shane says, ridiculously loyal to his very bad hometown team and very boring hometown.

Rose just gives him a look.

“Okay,” Shane has to admit, “they are that bad. But if anyone can rebuild a shitty team, it’s Ilya. He’s done it before in Boston; he’ll do it again there.”

“Sure, but the fact that he’s willing to go through that again, through the shitty years until Ottawa is good… that guy is head over heels for you.” Rose laughs again. “I’m so happy.”

“That Ilya will play with a bad team?”

“No. That you have someone who loves you so much.”

“Oh.” Shane blinks. “Well, I love him too. So much.”

“I’m so, so happy,” Rose says, and forces herself not to ply him about logistics. About the fact that it’s still going to be long distance for half a year, that they’re still going to be apart so much during the season, and that coming out will be a much bigger deal than what Scott Hunter did. Because Scott Hunter isn’t dating another player. Who is his decade-long rival.

So instead, Rose focuses on the happy stuff.

“Okay, now you need to tell me everything. How long? Who made the first move? What’s he like?”

“A long time,” Shane says, then his eyes widen in panic. “But not when we were together. I swear, I didn’t cheat on you.”

“Of course you didn’t. You’re not a cheater, Shane.”

He looks relieved, but Rose can’t help but think about his admission. A long time. Before she and Shane were together.

“He’s the guy you told me about,” she says gently.

Shane nods. “He was always the guy.”

“Always?”

“Always.”

Rose takes his hand again. “I’m so happy for you. You deserve an always guy. And I would love to meet him.”

Shane makes his deer-in-headlights expression again. “Sure. Maybe.”

“What? Why does that sound like a no?”

Shane groans and drags a hand over his face. “It’s just… you’re maybe not his favorite person.”

“What? Why? I’m a delight!” Rose says, outraged. “Also, he doesn’t even know me.”

“Well, he knows we dated. He didn’t… take that well.”

If that doesn’t get Rose’s hackles up. But instead of saying what she wants to say—oh, the guy who fucked his way through North America doesn’t like that we dated?—she asks, “So his reputation isn’t accurate then?”

Shane looks confused. “No, Ilya likes both. And he did sleep with a lot of women.”

Rose tries not to glare but is probably not that successful. She’s a great actress, but these are real emotions she’s trying to hide. “Then he does not have a leg to stand on to be mad at you for dating someone else.”

“He isn’t mad,” Shane says in that flat way Rose still has trouble reading. “He’s jealous.”

Still a red flag. And entirely illogical. “Okay, but surely he knows you’re gay. You did tell him that, right?”

Shane nods. “I did! Several times. I told him he had absolutely no reason to be jealous. I don’t know why he still gets pissy when it comes up, I swear he’s not rational about it.”

Rose has to laugh because the idea of Ilya Rozanov being jealous of her, considering Shane is absolutely totally gay, is ridiculous. Until she remembers she and Shane were all over the tabloids, that if they get caught having lunch today the rumours will flare up again, while Shane and Ilya are doing everything they can to obfuscate their relationship by starting a charity so people don’t freak out when they’re seen together in public. Suddenly Ilya’s jealousy is much less of a red flag and more a very sad reflection of hockey culture.

“Maybe he’s not so much jealous of me,” Rose offers gently, “but of what we had.”

“No offense, but you broke up with me because of what we had,” Shane says dryly.

“Yeah, but that’s not what the public saw. The public saw us together and thought we’d make a great couple. Like, my publicist summarized the reactions to our relationship, and they were overwhelmingly positive. You and Ilya are hiding because you will break the internet when you come out.”

Shane’s expression shuts down immediately.

“Hey, I’m not saying you shouldn’t do it, you know, when you guys are ready,” Rose hurries to reassure him. “People will get over it. And if not, you guys are still the best hockey players. But I can see Ilya maybe being jealous that we were… public.”

Slowly, Shane nods. “I mean, maybe. But the timing of our relationship was also… unfortunate.”

“Oh?”

Shane shrugs a little. “Ilya and I weren’t anything for a long time, we were just hooking up when we were in the same city.”

Rose can do hockey season math: that’s four games per season at most, a few pre-season games if they got lucky, plus All-Star weekends and the awards show and god, her heart is breaking all over again. How many years was a long time?

“And then, he invited me to stay over, and we kinda hung out for the first time,” Shane says, his hand self-consciously going up to his mouth before he decides to continue. “And I think he wanted to figure out if I was gay, so he asked me if I liked girls, and I just said it was private, that I’m always private about these things. And then it kinda got intense between us, and I—I panicked and left. And then I met you a couple of weeks later.”

Rose gasps. “You told him all your hookups are private and a couple of weeks later we’re all over the gossip rags? Oh my god, Shane!”

Shane nods miserably.

“Yeah, okay, I can see the problem.” She straightens up. “I’d still like to meet him, if he wants. He’s gotta get over it eventually, because I’m not going anywhere and neither is he, apparently.”

“He might not be nice,” Shane warns her.

Rose gives him a sharp smile. “Don’t worry about me, babe, I can hold my own.”

Shane smiles then, bright and open. “Okay. Maybe this summer then, you can come to the cottage when he’s still there, and we can hang out.”

“Deal.”

Rose goes to their cottage that summer, and she meets Ilya Rozanov as Shane’s boyfriend. Ilya is trying to be nice, she can tell, though his demeanor is as cold as Shane had warned her it would be. It takes Rose several glasses of wine and half a bottle of good Russian vodka she brought as a peace offering until Ilya teams up with her to tease Shane about everything from his freckles to his weak backhand. (Shane’s backhand isn’t weak, of course. It’s one of the best in the league because Shane is the best player in the league. It’s just that Ilya’s is the tiniest bit better. Shane absolutely hates it. It’s very cute.)

Later, when they all head to bed, Ilya looks at her, very seriously, and says, “Thank you for being kind to him.”

Rose’s heart breaks all over again. These boys will put her into an early grave.

“You don’t have to thank me. Shane deserves every kindness in the world. And I got a new best friend out of the whole thing, and that made the entire thing worth it.”

Ilya nods. “You are not so bad, Rose Landry.”

Rose doesn’t miss the significance of the full name. They’re both people with very public lives, with very public reputations. Which aren’t always accurate.

She smiles at him. “Neither are you, Ilya Rozanov.”

And then Ilya smiles, not his media scrum smirk, but a soft open smile, and yeah, okay. She got it already when she watched Shane and him interact during dinner prep, orbiting each other as closely as they could without ever being in each other’s way, moving in sync more like a pair of figure skaters than hockey rivals. And then during dinner, their teasing banter, matching each other beat for beat while looking at each other with the biggest heart eyes she’d ever seen. They fit, in a way that made absolute sense knowing Shane better than most people and now getting to know who Ilya Rozanov is off the ice.

But this, this soft smile, is the last piece of the puzzle. Ilya Rozanov is absolutely totally irrevocably fucking gone on Shane Hollander, loves him from his skates to his freckles, is ready to tank his career to be with him and willing to open up to the woman who’d taken his man after a disastrous tuna melt. (Eventually, Rose had gotten the entire story out of Shane, and she still can’t believe it. A tuna melt! The unsexiest of sandwiches! They both should have known that it was true love then.)

So yeah, Ilya Rozanov is really not that bad. She might even have a new second-favorite hockey player now, something she can never tell her family who had barely forgiven her for dating a Metros player and only because he was “Shane Golden Boy of Hockey” Hollander.

“Goodnight,” Ilya says softly and walks up the small flight of stairs where Shane is waiting for him.

Rose stands in the cottage’s spacious kitchen and watches Shane’s face illuminated by the moonlight, content and happy, as he reaches out a hand for Ilya and pulls him toward their bedroom. Ilya follows, and for a moment, they’re close together and Shane turns his head back to steal a kiss, Ilya already leaning forward for it, as if they’d walked this way to their bedroom a thousand times already, the gesture well-worn by love and familiarity.

It’s a very sweet moment, but Rose also managed to drag out a bunch of other details out of Shane about his relationship, and while she’s very happy for him apparently getting railed into the mattress on the regular, she’s glad that she chose the bedroom farthest away from his and brought earplugs.

In bed, she gets out her phone for one final goodnight scroll on social media when she sees a text.

u up?

Ugh. She knows he doesn’t treat her well enough. She knows he doesn’t deserve her. But that’s what everyone would have said to Shane about Ilya too, before they got serious. Hooking up with a guy who sleeps his way through two countries and hoping he’ll get serious is insane. And yet, here she is, watching Shane and Ilya and their MLH-defying epic love story. In a moment of weakness, she thinks, why can’t that be her?

But she knows why. Shane and Ilya risked everything for each other. Every clandestine meeting could end their careers. They went up against a homophobic league, hundreds of thousands of fans’ expectations, their own friends and families’ reservations. There is no risk Brian has ever taken for her, no difficulty he is ever willing to brave. Just a u up when it’s convenient.

Rose blocks his number. If it’s not a love like Shane and Ilya’s, she doesn’t want it. And she’s not going to settle for less.