The sun shone on every inch of Shane: his skin, his hair, his freckles. He looked so achingly beautiful and happy. It was a shame that Ilya was going to ruin it. A shame, but there was no choice about it: Shane Hollander was standing on the edge of a dock, and now his back was turned to Ilya. Like an idiot. “How’s the water?” Ilya asked. “What?” That was all the warning Shane got before Ilya pushed him off the dock with both hands. Shane let out most of a “motherfucker” before his head submerged beneath the dark water.
