Heated Rivalry

In these chapters, Shane and Ilya continue to describe their connection as casual, but the story steadily undermines that claim by emphasizing how they use Rivalry As a Mask for Emotional Vulnerability. Both men care deeply for one another, worry about each other’s safety, and alter their behavior because of that concern, yet neither is willing to admit that the relationship surpasses mere sex and competition.

Shane and Ilya’s actions during the Sochi Olympics clearly illustrate the important changes in their relationship. Shane worries obsessively about Ilya’s safety in Russia, particularly after a conversation draws his attention to the country’s laws and the hostile atmosphere surrounding queer athletes. Shane berates himself for caring, tries to suppress the fear, and yet ultimately texts Ilya. Shane’s wavering between wanting to remain detached and wanting to express concern makes it clear how deeply he buries his emotions. For him, caring feels like a flaw, not evidence of connection. Ilya’s reaction to Shane’s message reinforces this tactic of masking feelings instead of openly expressing them: “He really did not need Shane stupid Hollander to be trying to make contact. Not here. Not now” (125). Ilya ignores the message, revealing his continued reluctance to be fully vulnerable and to let Shane into the details of his private life.

The two men continue to lean on rivalry and aggression even when in private, reinforcing how they use apparent indifference to mask the depth and intensity of their true feelings. When Shane later approaches Ilya in the arena, Ilya is curt and dismissive. However, Shane sees through the hostility: “Rozanov was being an asshole, which was nothing new, but he didn’t seem to mean it. In fact, Shane would bet that Rozanov would actually really like him to stay. He looked like he could use a hug” (126, emphasis added). Shane recognizes Ilya’s behavior as defensive rather than indifferent. At this moment, both men sense that their relationship has crossed into new, more emotional territory, but instead of embracing the possibility of a closer connection, both retreat out of panic and insecurity.

The novel deliberately contrasts Shane’s family with Ilya’s. Shane’s parents would have attended the Olympics if not for Shane’s concern over their safety. Their absence is protective, not rejecting. Ilya’s father, by contrast, is physically present but emotionally hostile. Instead of offering pride or reassurance, Grigori fixates on flaws, criticizing Ilya’s appearance, questioning his professionalism, and placing the team’s collapse squarely on his shoulders. In this dynamic, Ilya is not treated as a son but reduced to a measure of national triumph or disgrace. This pattern explains much of Ilya’s behavior: He has learned that vulnerability invites punishment, and so seeks to hide his emotions under a veneer of bravado or aggression. As a result, he pushes Shane away during moments of emotional stress, even as he seeks him out physically.

If Shane hides his emotions, Ilya fractures his. He comes across as careless and teasing, someone who keeps others at arm’s length, illustrating The Psychological Cost of Compartmentalizing Identity. After months of silence, Ilya draws Shane back in, but on terms he sets himself, reflecting how badly he needs to feel in control again after losing during the Olympics. Control becomes his way of managing that loss. At the same time, Shane’s cooperation reveals his vulnerability. He wants to meet Ilya where he is, even when it makes him uneasy. The moment is intense, but it also marks a shift in their relationship. Underneath everything, there is trust—an understanding that each of them will recognize boundaries and needs that never get spoken aloud.

Ultimately, these chapters highlight The Tension Between Personal Fulfillment and Public Expectation. Shane has to manage his role as a national athlete while concealing a relationship that becomes steadily more essential to him. Ilya is crushed by the expectations of his country and his father, expectations so suffocating that he begins to recognize Boston, not Russia, as his home. That realization is quiet but profound: It signals that Ilya’s sense of belonging is no longer tied to nationality or approval, but to the private spaces where he can exist without reproach. By this point, it becomes clear to both men that their relationship is neither temporary nor casual, even if they are not yet ready to admit it publicly.