So. I finally sat down with Heated Rivalry on HBO Max, and I need to talk about it while it’s still buzzing in my bones. This is one of those shows where you press play thinking, Okay, I’ll sample an episode, and suddenly it’s dark outside, your tea’s gone cold, and you’re emotionally attached to fictional hockey players.
If you somehow missed the memo, Heated Rivalry is a Canadian gay hockey series based on the novels by Rachel Reid. And yes, hockey. Real hockey. Sweat, locker rooms, bruised knuckles, ice shavings clinging to skates, that echoing thunk of pucks hitting boards. The show smells like cold air and adrenaline and bad decisions made at 2 a.m. after a game. In other words, it already had me.
Enemies First, Feelings Later (Or… Sooner)
The setup is classic in the best possible way: two elite hockey players land on opposite sides of a fierce rivalry. Shane and Ilya meet young, cocky, and very sure they despise each other. Trash talk flies. Gloves metaphorically come off. Then something unexpected sparks, and suddenly the line between hatred and attraction gets very thin.
What I liked is how the series lets that tension breathe. You feel it in the way they circle each other on the ice, in the sharp glances during interviews, in the way silence stretches just a beat too long in locker rooms. It’s not rushed, but it’s never boring. My stomach did that little flip thing more than once, which I was not prepared for from a hockey show.
About Those Performances
The actors playing Shane and Ilya deserve serious praise. Their chemistry doesn’t feel rehearsed or polished into oblivion. It feels messy and human. Sometimes awkward. Sometimes heated. Sometimes soft in a way that sneaks up on you. You can tell when characters are acting tough because that’s what the world expects of them, and you can also tell when the mask slips.
There’s a particular moment—no spoilers—where one of them just exhales, shoulders dropping, and you can almost hear the weight hitting the floor. That kind of physical acting sticks with me. It’s quiet, but it lands.
The supporting cast helps too. Teammates feel like teammates, not cardboard cutouts. Coaches loom in that authoritative, coffee-breath, fluorescent-light way that feels painfully familiar if you’ve ever been stuck in an institutional hallway being judged.
My Rachel Reid Confession
Here’s my honest bit: I read a Rachel Reid book years ago. I remember liking it well enough, but it didn’t carve itself into my brain or anything. I didn’t immediately sprint off to read the rest of her catalog. Life moved on. Other books piled up.
This series, though? Totally different story.
Whatever didn’t fully click for me on the page absolutely works on screen. Maybe it’s the performances. Maybe it’s the sound of skates cutting into ice, or the way longing looks when you can see it flicker across someone’s face. All I know is that this adaptation made me sit up and pay attention. By the end, I was already thinking, Okay, maybe I should give the book another shot.
Why It Hit Me So Hard
I think part of why I loved Heated Rivalry is how it handles queerness in a hyper-masculine space without turning it into a lecture. Being gay in professional sports is complicated, and the show doesn’t sugarcoat that. Fear sits in the room. Risk hums under every choice. At the same time, it never forgets that this is also a love story. A messy, stubborn, yearning one.
There’s joy here too. Smirks. Teasing. That electric feeling when someone sees you exactly as you are and doesn’t flinch. I found myself smiling at my screen more than I expected, which honestly surprised me.
Season 2, Please. I’m Begging.
I really, really hope we get a second season. I mean that. I would be genuinely bummed if this story just… stopped. There’s so much more emotional ice to skate on, so many unresolved looks and half-spoken things. I already know this is a show I’d rewatch, partly for the big moments and partly for the small ones I probably missed while grinning like an idiot.
If HBO Max pulls the plug, I’ll survive, sure—but I’ll be sulky about it.
So yeah…
Heated Rivalry caught me off guard in the best way. It’s sharp, tender, sexy, and sincere without feeling precious. It made me care, which is the hardest trick any series can pull. And yes, it nudged me back toward Rachel Reid’s books with fresh curiosity.
If you like sports romances, queer love stories, or just watching two stubborn people crash into their feelings over and over again, I’d say give this one a shot. I’m already itching to hit play again.
A haunted melody.
A vanished maestro.
And a detective who knows music can kill.
When a piece of forbidden sheet music resurfaces, Lucien Knight is dragged back into the paranormal world he fled—where ghosts perform, secrets fester, and the wrong note can be deadly.
Grab your copy HERE