The Long Game

Shane was, Ilya had to admit, a pretty terrible coach. But in an adorable way.

“You’re unfairly handsome in the mornings, you know that?”

Ilya grinned. “Tell me in Russian.”

Shane’s nose scrunched up in concentration. “Um...ty ochen’ krasiv?”

Ilya’s heart fluttered the way it always did when Shane attempted Russian. “Close enough.”

“What I’m trying to say, and Yuna’s always been the better speaker, is I’ve always felt so lucky to have a son as wonderful as Shane that I never expected to be blessed with a second one.”