Page 9 of Heated Rivalry 1
Rozanov ran a hand through his damp hair in a move that was more interesting to Shane than it should have been. Rozanov was so...masculine. Shane was baby-faced and short, and couldn’t grow proper facial hair, and barely had any chest hair. Rozanov was almost exactly the same age as him, but he looked like he had crossed over a magical line to adulthood.
Shane quickly turned his gaze to the floor, and hoped the flush from the exercise covered his blushing.
“What a fucking day, huh?” Rozanov said.
“Yeah. Totally.”
“Everything you dreamed of?”
Shane looked him dead in the eye. “Almost.”
Rozanov grinned back. “Sorry I ruined your big day.”
“Fuck off.”
“Montreal is nice, yes?”
“Yes.”
“Is Boston nice?”
“Sure. Yeah. I’ve only been there a couple of times, but it’s a good town.”
Rozanov nodded.
They were silent a moment, and then Rozanov tapped Shane’s ankle with the bottom of his sneaker. “Hey. We will see a lot of each other.”
It took Shane a minute. “Oh. Yeah. Montreal and Boston play against each other a lot.”
“Should be interesting.”
Rozanov took a long haul from his water bottle. Shane pretended he was only looking longingly at the way his throat worked because he had forgotten to bring a bottle for himself. It wasn’t until Rozanov’s Adam’s apple stopped bobbing and his lips were dark and glistening that Shane realized he was staring. The lips quirked up a bit, and Rozanov extended his arm, offering Shane his bottle.
“Oh. I’m all right. Thanks.”
Rozanov shook the bottle at him, and Shane took it. He needed water. It would be dumb to refuse.
The tips of their fingers touched briefly together. Shane held the bottle away from his lips and quickly squirted water into his mouth. Rozanov watched him.
It was the first time that Shane felt it. It was like the air in the room had thickened. Everything inside him was buzzing and on edge, like he was about to jump out of a plane.
He didn’t know if Rozanov felt anything. But in that moment, Shane wanted...something. He couldn’t even name it.
He passed the water bottle back, and this time he could swear Rozanov let his fingers brush Shane’s wrist on purpose. It was a moment that seemed to last forever, but was probably less than a second.
Shane wanted Rozanov to touch him again.
Shane wanted to touch him back.
Maybe Shane wanted tokisshim.
Shane scrambled to his feet. “I’m going to bed. I guess I’ll...see you around, right?”
Rozanov looked up at him from the floor. “You will be seeing plenty of me.”
Shane nodded and left the room as fast as he could. He waited until he was back in his room before he let himself freak out.
What the fuck was that?
