Summary:

Hayden doesn’t know how his life had come to this point, standing in front of his oven watching four fillets of salmon cook as he waits for Ilya fucking Rozanov to enter his house. “I can’t fucking do this,” he mutters to the empty kitchen, staring at the tray of asparagus and baby potatoes on the countertop, hoping they have an answer to all of his current issues. They do not. --- Or Hayden promised he’d try his best and somehow that meant getting roped into having another dinner with Ilya Rozanov of all people.