Summary:

“You think those stretches actually do anything?” Summers had appeared beside him, the sound of his skates muffled under the blood rushing through Ilya’s ears– and elsewhere– as he stole another glance at Shane. “I don’t do them and I am better than him, so no. Or maybe they do help and I could be best hockey player ever.” “Mm. Hey, if he wants to put himself in that position it’s on him, I guess. I’m not gonna complain about the show.” Ilya froze, turning himself on the ice to face Summers properly. “The… show?” *or* Boston's new rookie has the hots for Shane. Ilya does not cope well.