Summary:

The third realization hit him when he finally blinked open his eyes to investigate the cause of his misery. He did a double-take because… well, he was pretty sure he didn’t have a tattoo last night. Especially not one that read the name of his long-time rival and secret fuck buddy. Ilya Rozanov. Shane blinked. What the fuck. Shane wakes up with Rozanov's name tattooed on his wrist one morning. It only gets worse from there.