Summary:

Women flock to Rozanov; he’s the gravitational centre in every room. Shane gets it. He’s felt it, the shark pull of his orbit. He’s been swallowed up into the belly of desire. What he doesn’t get is how easy it is for Rozanov. Even with Shane’s teammates pooled around him on the dance floor his hands get clammy when a girl in a sequined skirt makes a move on him. Shane used to think maybe he was just awkward; maybe he needed a couple of beers in him to loosen up, but he couldn’t do that during the season. Then Ilya Rozanov kissed him and the craving was so clear in Shane’s mind he was able to visualise every sharp edge of it, and he knew he wanted to be on his knees. 2013. It’s been two years since he and Rozanov hooked up in Nashville and exchanged phone numbers. It’s a month till Boston comes to Montreal and Rozanov’s promise of ‘next time’ could go into fulfilment. Shane Hollander wants to play hockey. He wants to play it well. The other thing is a thing he cannot allow himself to want.