“They should give us a chance to get to know each other,” Ilya said. He leaned in and dropped his voice. “We might even have something in common.” Shane smiled at the floor, the color rising in his cheeks. “You look good too,” Ilya said. “Someone take you shopping?” Shane looked at him. “If I tell you something, do you promise not to tell anyone? Or make fun of me?” Ilya felt an icy stab of dread in his stomach. He braced himself, and said, “Sure.” “I, uh...” Ilya waited for the words. I’m seeing someone. I’m engaged. I don’t need you anymore. “I hired a personal stylist.” For a moment, there
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