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    Summary

    “Okay, if you’re going to be cagey, I’ll just lay out some facts.” Jessie clears her throat and Shane is absolutely fucked. He should know better than to try to hide something from a future lawyer. “Fact number one—”

    “Oh for fuck’s sake.”

    “Quiet, you,” she says, sounding exactly like Mom. “Fact number one: You’re acting really weird right now. Fact number two: You got super cagey and strange after your photo shoot this summer. What do both of those events have in common? One Ilya Rozanov. Fact number three: You have been low-to-high-key obsessed with Ilya Rozanov for two years now, and even though we’ve never talked about it again, you said you thought about a man during sex last year. When I put all these facts together, I think the answer is pretty obvious.”

    Shane doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. But he needs her to say it. He cannot bring himself to admit what is happening out loud. He just presses his fingers harder against his eyes.

    “You’re still not going to tell me? Ugh, Shane! Did you fuck Ilya Rozanov?”

    Or: The events of Heated Rivalry if Shane had a nosy, supportive, bisexual twin sister.

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