“One naughty Scott Hunter,” he said as he placed a blue cocktail in front of Ilya. “And one nice Scott Hunter.” He placed an identical drink in front of Eric, then darted away before Eric could even thank him. Ilya lifted his glass. “Should we drink to Scott Hunter and his future husband?” “I think we drank enough to that last week,” Scott said sheepishly. “To love, then. And”—he glanced at Eric—“to being brave.”
