Page 78 of Heated Rivalry 1
He couldn’t take it anymore.
“Did you...bring anyone? With you?” Ilya asked.
Shane shook his head. “No. I mean...my parents thought about it, but they’ve been to so many of these things and they’re already going to Mexico next month, so...”
“Ah.” Rose Landry must be busy filming somewhere.
Shane’s tongue darted out to lick his upper lip. Ilya could have sworn it happened in slow motion.
“Nice shirt,” Shane said with a grin.
“Thought I’d get in the spirit. You know.”
“You can pull it off.” He raked his eyes over Ilya’s body, and Ilya’s heart sped up. “Looks good.”
Ilya probably could have said something similar in return, but he was too busy staring at the hollow of Shane’s throat.
“Jesus, look at this! Fucking beautiful!” A pair of giant arms landed heavily across the shoulders of Ilya and Shane. The intruder, Mike Brophy—a huge defenseman for New Jersey—pulled Ilya’s and Shane’s heads together. “This is what it’s all about! Fucking Hollander and Rozanov working together! Love it!”
Shane had managed to pull his head from Brophy’s bicep, and gave the big man a wary smile. “Should be fun, yeah,” he said.
“Don’t listen to a word this fucker says, though,” Brophy said, elbowing Ilya roughly. “Can’t trust this asshole. Whatever he tells you, he’s probably fucking with you.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Shane said.
Brophy left, with departing arm punches to both of them.
“I think we can expect a lot of that kind of thing this weekend,” Shane said. He turned so he was leaning back against the bar on his elbows.
“They should give us a chance to get to know each other,” Ilya said. He leaned in and dropped his voice. “We might even have something in common.”
Shane smiled at the floor, the color rising in his cheeks.
“You look good too,” Ilya said. “Someone take you shopping?”
Shane looked at him. “If I tell you something, do you promise not to tell anyone? Or make fun of me?”
Ilya felt an icy stab of dread in his stomach. He braced himself, and said, “Sure.”
“I, uh...” Ilya waited for the words.I’m seeing someone. I’m engaged. I don’t need you anymore.“I hired a personal stylist.”
For a moment, there was silence. Then Ilya burst out laughing. “Fuck off!” he said, delighted.
“I shouldn’t have told you.”
“No! I love it! Got tired of looking like shit?”
“I didn’t—” Shane was trying to look angry, but Ilya could tell he was fighting a smile. “I just mostly wore, you know, athletic stuff. I guess. Track pants and T-shirts and stuff. Some guys in the league are so fashionable and I just thought... I could use some help.”
“This has nothing to do with Rose Landry?”
“What? No. I mean...yeah, her friends were all really well dressed all the time. I guess maybe I felt like a slob when we went out together. I’ve never really cared about clothes and I thought... I don’t know. I just want to present myself better. Not always dress like I’m heading to the gym.”
Ilya didn’t miss the past tense of what Shane was saying about going out with Rose, even with his imperfect English. “Are you and her not...”
Shane shook his head. “We’re not. No. It was just a short thing. She’s great. We just weren’t, um...compatible.”
He looked seriously at Ilya then. Ilya wanted to kiss him.
