The Heated Rivalry Season 1 Finale Ends 2025 With An Emotional Barnburner

This article contains spoilers for the "Heated Rivalry" season 1 finale, "The Cottage."

I have this problem. My problem is that I'm obsessed with this Canadian TV show with beautiful artistry and a weak budget. And I don't ever want the problem to go away.

"Heated Rivalry," Jacob Tierney's intoxicating series adaptation of Rachel Reid's New York Times Bestselling novel series, held its own against the latest batch of episodes from the final season of "Stranger Things" and the one-two holiday punch of Christmas and Boxing Day with its season 1 finale, "The Cottage." It feels only right that a streaming TV series so addicting and luminous would drive off into the sunset with an episode grounded in precision and tenderness. "The Cottage" is a languid albeit deeply affecting hour compared to last week's Emmy-worthy (even if it may not be eligible) episode "I'll Believe in Anything," and it served as the perfect ending to one of the best new shows of 2025.

François Arnaud returned as MVP Scott Hunter to deliver a touching speech at the Major League Hockey awards about why he chose to come out after winning the Cup, a move that gave rivals-turned-lovers Shane Hollander (Hudson Williams) and Ilya Rozanov (Connor Storrie) hope awaits them in their own future as a couple. After years of slowly developing some semblance of a relationship through physical explorations, the pair decided to spend two weeks isolated at Shane's cabin to see what it feels like to be together without the risk of being caught. Filmed before season 2 was given the green light, Shane and Ilya's time at "The Cottage" was nothing short of revelatory — with or without the threat of annoying Canadian wolf birds.

Anchored by contained, breathtaking performances from Hudson Williams and Connor Storrie, watching "The Cottage" felt like witnessing a historic hour of television in real time. After years of hot and heavy hookups, Shane and Ilya learned what it's like to simply exist together when they aren't being watched, as relationships are built on the sweetness of mundanity. And as has been the case all season, there's so much more being said outside of the scripted dialogue. Williams and Storrie continue to prove that they have a masterful grasp of microexpression work, and after Storrie's knockout monologue in episode 5, Williams delivered his finest hour in the finale.

It's remarkable watching Williams bring Shane to life, his face carrying pain, longing, fear, love, and resolve — sometimes all at once. During a particularly emotionally charged conversation about their futures, the canonically autistic Shane tried to mask his true feelings, but as Williams' eyes softened and watered, he somehow maintained control of his tears, which never fall. That restraint made the emotion hit even harder, but Storrie was there to keep pace. Feel free to mark "Connor Storrie's delivery of "She would have loved you. Like I love you" as my cause of death.

But we've been watching these boys fall in love, wrestle with tough emotions, and tell us stories through unspoken words for weeks. "The Cottage" has provided a fantastic showcase of the duo's comedic timing, physical acting (beyond their usual trysts), and capacity for joy. Williams and Storrie are proving to be generational talents, and if auteur, arthouse directors aren't fist-fighting in the streets for the chance to work with them next, something is very wrong.

Over the last few weeks, I (and the legion of superfans) have watched with increasing annoyance as media outlets and major trades have gone for the gold in Mental Gymnastics, trying to understand why "Heated Rivalry" is so popular. It's like they're all watching the discourse unfold with blinders on, incapable of seeing anything beyond "hot, half-naked men." It's honestly a little embarrassing to see people question it, considering Jacob Tierney has concocted a series boasting a phenomenal cast, an impactful script, a soundtrack full of need-drops so good they're putting songs on the charts decades after their release, stunning cinematography, and a style of visual storytelling that's so compelling it actually incentivizes the audience to put their damn phone down. (Not to mention the baked-in fanbase, but that's another discussion for another day).

This is what happens when a creator is trusted to fulfill their vision as intended. And when you've hired a director of photography like Jackson Parrell, who is a visual maestro, the result is *pinched hand* cinema. Tierney already had a pedigree that more than proved he's a talented director ("Shoresy" and "Letterkenny" are perfection, thank you), but he's imbued "Heated Rivalry" with so much affection it's palpable. The finale feels like an emotional release valve, but it's most effective because Tierney wasn't afraid to spend the entire first season building toward it. The "premium smut," as he's called it on the press tour, may have been what got people talking (shout out to intimacy coordinator Chala Hunter), but it's Tierney's execution that's kept audiences, especially those unfamiliar with the books, coming back.

If a show isn't operating with the same level of passion for the work, how can anyone expect audiences to bother? Sorry, everyone else, Jacob Tierney has set the bar.

It's been a great year for adaptations that make changes to the source material for the better, and "Heated Rivalry" is no exception. Rachel Reid's novels were already beloved and popular for a reason, but Tierney's elevated implementation of her work should be viewed as the gold standard moving forward. Little line changes ("Sir, I'm just a bellboy!") are commendable, but the inclusion of a scene not in the books — namely, Shane talking to his mother Yuna (Christina Chang) — eviscerated me. I don't want to be the type of media analyst who repeatedly draws parallels to their personal life, but I just can't remove my lived experience from the equation this time.

When I knew that I had fallen in love with my now wife, it also meant I would be blowing up my life to be with her. I would (and did) lose friendships. I would (and did) lose job opportunities. I would (and happily did) have to sign up for a life that would be significantly more difficult. I couldn't stop crying when I finally told my parents. Like Shane, I felt compelled to apologize. Like Yuna, my mother tearfully apologized for ever making me feel like I needed to apologize. I had also foolishly chosen to tell them the night the Chicago Blackhawks ended with their worst regular-season performance in 10 years, which makes the hockey connection almost too much to process.

We've been together for nearly a decade, but when the world is as homophobic and transphobic as it currently is, some days still bear the weight of the closet. In less capable hands, this moment would have permanently crushed my soul, but with Tierney's direction and Williams and Chang's spectacular performances, I feel ... lighter.

"The Cottage" is a triumph because, like the titular location itself, it is the calm distillation of the story's massive scope. Shane and Ilya had fallen in love through agonizing stolen moments behind closed doors across North America for nearly a decade, performing a facade of who they are for millions of adoring fans. Condensing eight and a half years into isx episodes of television meant "Heated Rivalry" flew forward faster than a breakaway in overtime, but in the domestic, idyllic embrace of the cottage, its story — and the couple at the center of it — are given the space to revel in the beauty that has come from this.

Nearly half of all LGBTQIA+ characters on TV will not return in 2026, a reflection of the industry's increasing capitulation to conservatism and the censorship of queerness. It's ironic in the face of the undeniable, data-supported evidence that audiences are yearning for more stories like "Heated Rivalry." Really, it would be laughable if it weren't so damn depressing and reflective of the increased anti-LGBTQIA+ sentiment currently plaguing real people.

It's easy to joke and meme about "the horny gay hockey show," but the reality is that "Heated Rivalry" was as important as it was well-crafted. The sex scenes were explicit because the show doesn't believe queer sex is shameful. Every single moment on screen mattered, because situations like these matter. The moving honesty of multiple coming-out stories and the relationships that developed because of it were handled with care, because queer people deserve to be cared about. Tierney wisely elected to end the season with Shane and Ilya driving back to the cottage, the start of golden hour shining on their smiling faces.

In a time when things are so dark for so many people, "Heated Rivalry" was sunshine.