“I—we were...fucking.” “Wow,” Ilya said dryly. Shane wasn’t going to sit here and be accused of having unimaginative sex dreams. He swallowed his shame and added, “At center ice.” Ilya’s eyebrows shot up. “I know that logistically,” Shane continued quickly, “it would be, y’know, basically impossible, but dreams are weird. So, yeah. Center ice.”
