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    Summary

    “I need to sleep,” Ilya murmurs next to him on the bed, his voice distant.

    “Yeah, me too,” Shane rushes to agree. His fingers drum against his glass of vodka and he chugs the rest in one go. “I should, uh…” He moves to stand up off the bed, the soiled towel dropping from his stomach, and his knees buckle.

    Shane stumbles but remains upright, his vision blurry. But the glass in his hands slips from his trembling fingers, and, to his absolute horror, shatters all across the floor of Ilya’s penthouse suite.

    ----

    After the hookup where Shane and Ilya didn’t kiss, Shane nearly passes out in his rival’s hotel room.

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