“Hey, um, Ilya?” “Yes.” He watched Shane’s hand lift out of the frame, probably so Shane could run it nervously through his hair. Ilya stilled his own hand. “Something wrong?” he asked. “No. But... I think I’d rather see your face.” Ilya was grateful that Shane couldn’t see his face at that exact moment, because he was pretty sure it had the world’s sappiest expression. “Sure, Hollander,” he said gently.
