It had been a really good day.
And now they were eating burgers that Shane had totally aced, and drinking beer on the deck as the sun set, and it was everything he had ever wanted. He imagined a life of spending summers together at the cottage. It was his intention to make this his permanent home after he retired. He wondered if Ilya would be into living here when—
What the hell, Hollander? Getting a little ahead of yourself, aren’t you?
But these were the thoughts that consumed him these days: Ilya meeting his parents, Ilya spending the summers with him, Ilya making a home with him.
He’d give anything to go back to the simplicity of the early days, when all that consumed him was the confusing desire to have Ilya’s dick in his mouth.
For seven years, they’d been getting away with this thing. Their luck had to run out sometime, right?
Ilya stared at the fire because he wasn’t sure what else he was supposed to do, exactly. This seemed to be the extent of theentertainment a bonfire provided: it burned, and you looked at it.
The bonfire had been Shane’s idea, of course. Ilya could think of better things to do with their evening alone together than watch logs turn into ash, but Shane had been so damn excited about it.
But it was a beautiful night—the air was a bit chilly, and the fire was warm, and Ilya was pressed against Shane on a little bench made out of a chunk of tree.
It wasn’t terrible.
“How is your head?” Ilya asked. Shane had complained of a headache that afternoon. He’d said they had been common since his injury.
“Oh, better now. Thanks.”
That was good news, because Ilya very much wanted to do sex stuff later.
Shane’s phone suddenly lit up, the screen startlingly bright in the dark that surrounded them. When Shane glanced at the screen, his face lit up almost as brightly.
“What?” Ilya asked. He couldn’t help it.
“Oh,” Shane said absently as he typed something. “Nothing. Just a message from Rose.”
Ilya snorted.Rose. “What doesRosewant?”
“She’s just checking in. She—hey. You’re notjealous, are you?”
“No.” It was the least convincing lie ever.
“Ilya. I’mgay.”
“Not too gay to fuck Rose Landry.”
Shane put the phone down and glared at him. “Oh my god. I onlyslept with hera couple of times, and they were both disasters. Believe me, she isnotlooking for a repeat performance.”
Ilya suppressed a grin. “Disasters?”
“I’m not giving you the details, so shut it,” Shane grumbled. He poked at the fire for the hundredth time. Ilya wasn’t sure it actually did anything useful, but Shane seemed to enjoy doing it.
There was something a little creepy about sitting in this small pool of light in the middle of total darkness. It was so eerily quiet—just the crackling of the fire, the occasional lap of water from the lake, and—
A fucking wolf. That was a fucking wolf howl.
“What the fuck was that?” Ilya said. He couldn’t conceal the terror in his voice. But who the fuck cared, because they were surrounded by hungry wolves!
Shane laughed. “It’s a loon.”
“A what?”
“A loon!” Shane was really laughing now. “It’s a bird. Like a duck, kind of. Oh my god, you thought it was a wolf!”
