Page 98 of Heated Rivalry 1
The next day—Moscow
Ilya would fly back to Boston tomorrow.
Andrei was the executor of their father’s estate, what little of it there was, and Ilya had fulfilled his duties as a son. He was done.
He’d realized, over the past few days, that he truly had no reason to return to Russia. He probably would, someday, but he couldn’t see spending another summer here. Any obligation he had felt had died with his father.
He had made an impulsive decision to give his Moscow condo to his brother. Andrei could sell it, or meet his mistresses there. Ilya couldn’t care less; he just didn’t want to deal with selling it. There wasn’t even anything in it that he wanted.
He sat on his bed in that condo. It would be his last night sleeping there.
He could think of one thing he would like to do to commemorate the occasion.
Ilya: Are you home?
The reply was immediate.
Jane: Yes.
Ilya smiled and wrote,Skype?
He waited, and wondered if Shane understood what Ilya was suggesting.
OK, Shane texted back.Just a sec.
Ilya decided to make things a little clearer for Shane, just in case he didn’t get it. He pulled his T-shirt off and dropped it onthe floor, then stacked some pillows in front of the headboard and settled himself on the mattress. He sent Shane a video call request.
Shane accepted, and then there he was, filling the screen of Ilya’s iPad. He was wearing a hoodie and...glasses?
“Holy shit, Hollander! Do you wear glasses?”
“Oh!” Shane reached up and touched the frames of his glasses, as if he didn’t believe Ilya. “Just when I read. It’s, um...new.” He pulled them off.
“No!” Ilya said, grinning. “I like them.”
“Well...” Shane said, and damn if he wasn’t blushing already. “Icansee you a lot better if I leave them on.” He slid the thick black frames back into place. “What?” he asked, because Ilya couldn’t stop smiling.
“What were you reading? Your boring hockey book?”
Shane’s eyes narrowed behind the glasses. “Are you just calling to make fun of me?”
“No. Not only that.”
He watched Shane bite his bottom lip.God, he’s cute.
“Were you thinking we could, y’know...do stuff?” Shane asked nervously.
“Yes. But first, show me your bedroom. I am dying to see it.”
“Really? All right.” Shane tapped on the screen and flipped the camera. Suddenly, Ilya was looking at a king-size bed with a navy blue comforter.
“That’s the bed,” he heard Shane say off camera.
“Oh, is it?”
“Fuck you. You asked for this. Here’s the dresser. And the bathroom is over there. And the closet. And here’s the view...”
Ilya decided he didn’t care about the view or the bedroom anymore. It was as boring as he had been expecting. It could have been a hotel room.
