Ivy

“…And I want to learn Russian. I wasn’t kidding about that.”

“I’ll teach you.”

Shane smiled so wide and bright, Ilya almost had to look away.

“I should let you sleep,” Shane said.

“Da. Yes. Okay.”

And then… Shane kissed the tips of two fingers and reached out and touched them to the screen. And Ilya’s heart fucking stopped.”
― Rachel Reid, Heated Rivalry

“Ilya couldn’t believe what he had been reduced to. He was...infatuated. It was disgusting.”
― Rachel Reid, Heated Rivalry

“You are very beautiful,” Ilya said.
Shane smiled without opening his eyes. “Come on.”
“Is the truth. Your freckles.” Ilya grazed a fingertip over his own cheek. “I am nuts about them.”
“I have no idea why. I hate them.”
“Noooo...” Ilya moaned. “Hollander. They are stunning.”
“Stunning?”
“Yes. Am I not using that word right? Very beautiful. Um...take my breath?”
“Wow. Alright”
“I told you...” Ilya grinned. “You love praise.”
When Shane didn’t reply, Ilya said, “And you like to hog it all for yourself. You asshole.”
― Rachel Reid, Heated Rivalry

“I give Hunter shit, but what he did was brave. Kissing his boyfriend on TV like that. And the speech at the awards.”
“It was. It really…made me hopeful. That things might be changing.”
Ilya shot the puck back to Shane. “It made me jealous,” he admitted.
Shane laughed. "You wanna kiss me on television?"
"Yes. After I win the Stanley cup."
Shane spread his arms out. "Oh, so in this scenario, you've just defeated me?"
"Yes. Sorry."
“I’m not going to be in the mood to kiss you if I’ve just lost the Stanley Cup, Rozanov.”
“But you would be so proud of me!”
― Rachel Reid, Heated Rivalry