Summary:

Ilya Rozanov had been talking to Harris Drover on Grindr for six months now—which was probably way longer than Grindr’s social etiquette and common sense dictated, but the guy was just something else, and Ilya hadn’t been able to convince himself to stop even once it was clear that they were never going to meet, and that sexting was all he was ever gonna get.

Harris was—he was fun, in that dry, sarcastic, bitchy, bratty way that Ilya went absolutely feral for. There was just one thing—one tiny, minuscule problem—well, more of a small wrinkle. Inconsequential at best, really.

Harris was catfishing Ilya with pictures of Shane Hollander.

or; the risk Ilya took was calculated... but boy, is he bad at math.