Ilya kissed him, hard, on the cheek. He was sure, to the crowd, that it looked like Ilya’s usual obnoxious shenanigans, that the kiss was just another way of annoying Hollander. But the truth was he simply couldn’t help himself. He had seen an opportunity, and he had taken it. “What the fuck?” Shane laughed. Ilya felt his own cheeks flush, which was a rare and uncomfortable feeling. “Nice goal,” he said.
