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“Does this mean I can volunteer again?” His face mockingly resembled one of a pleading child, asking their parents for a candy bar. “Now that I am single man?” Shane couldn’t help it. A breath of laughter puffed out of his mouth, and he dropped his head in exasperation. Ilya’s chuckle rumbled in front of him, and Shane reached up to smooth out one of his eyebrows, still fighting down his laughter. He looked back up at him, giving a tiny roll of his eyes, “Yes, you can volunteer.” Ilya’s face was full of satisfaction.

Shane Hollander built his life after college around safe choices. Safe job, safe routines, and a safe distance from the hockey world he abandoned years ago.

That is, until Ilya Rozanov walked into his second grade classroom.

Read chapter 4 here

“I can stay and help you clean up.” Shane froze at that, turning to look at Ilya, noting his posture. He seemed almost… nervous. Ilya shifted the pumpkin in his hand, motioning up and down, from the snack table to the hallway tables, all littered with crumbs, papers, and garlands. “It will go faster with two people.” For a moment, Shane considered. Like, really considered it.

Shane Hollander built his life after college around safe choices. Safe job, safe routines, and a safe distance from the hockey world he abandoned years ago.

That is, until Ilya Rozanov walked into his second grade classroom.

Read chapter 3 here

“I can stay and help you clean up.” Shane froze at that, turning to look at Ilya, noting his posture. He seemed almost… nervous. Ilya shifted the pumpkin in his hand, motioning up and down, from the snack table to the hallway tables, all littered with crumbs, papers, and garlands. “It will go faster with two people.” For a moment, Shane considered. Like, really considered it.

Shane Hollander built his life after college around safe choices. Safe job, safe routines, and a safe distance from the hockey world he abandoned years ago.

That is, until Ilya Rozanov walked into his second grade classroom.

Read chapter 3 here

Shane strode on over to the door, grabbing the handle and gently pulling it to reveal the person behind. Oh. Ilya Rozanov stood at the threshold, immediately locking his eyes on Shane’s as the door swung open. He had traded his normal carline athleisure for a fitted short-sleeve button-up shirt, dark jeans, and black shoes. His familiar sunglasses were perched on top of his head, and he must have just placed them up there, tangled in his wild curls, as his hand was being slowly lowered from the top of his head. Shane breathed out, still a bit winded from lugging the boxes around, holding the door open as he stared at Ilya, “You’re early.”

Shane Hollander built his life after college around safe choices. Safe job, safe routines, and a safe distance from the hockey world he abandoned years ago.

That is, until Ilya Rozanov walked into his second grade classroom.

Read chapter 2 here