“Was it me tonight?” “Was what you?” “Distracting you. On the ice tonight.” It took Shane a moment to realize what he was suggesting. “Fuck. You.” Rozanov’s smile spread. “Couldn’t play at all, thinking about my dick, right?” “Good night, Rozanov.” Rozanov blew him a kiss on his way out the door, leaving Shane furious and strangely relieved. It was good to be reminded of the fact that they didn’t actually like each other.
