“I love you,” Ilya said between the deep breaths he was taking in an attempt to cool his blood. Shane slipped out from between Ilya and the wall and squeezed his arm. “Love you too.” Shane exhaled, and Ilya politely ignored the tremor in it. “Okay. Three weeks.” “Three weeks. Text me when you get home.” “Of course.” Shane kissed him one more time, and then he was gone.
