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Summary
The ceremony had been outside, in the hotel's court yard, right as the sun was starting to set. Shane had thought it was nice enough. Nicer than a church anyway.
He feels Hayden freeze. “What the fuck is he doing here?”
Shane schools his face. “Fuck if I know,” he says.
He doesn't say, they used to play together in juniors, they text each other all the time. He doesn't say that Ilya had told Shane three days ago that he probably wouldn't make it to the wedding. Because he's not supposed to know any of that and the way his heart is suddenly racing in his chest is shameful enough.
OR
what if, at the cottage, it hadn't been months since they last saw each other?