Page 38 of Before They Were Lovers

“Better.” Day smirked.

God stared at his partner as he gave a perfect textbook answer with a bit of street smarts included. A hint of pride blossomed in his chest. He was proud. Day was going to be great at this…Daywasthis.

God gave a low grunt—his sound of approval—turning to another random page.

Day set a bottle of beer and a heaping mound of pasta covered with shrimp and scallops in front of him, then slid a salad next to it.

God frowned at the bright green leaves and raw vegetables, but Day shoved it closer and snarled. “Eat it.”

The rest of the night went by in the same manner.

The two of them reclined on the large sectional, quizzing and pushing each other like they’d always done.

Day leaned back and stretched his arms over his head, then checked his phone.

“God, we got this, man. I’m calling it. It’s late.”

“Yeah, all right,” he said around a noisy yawn.

“You gonna stay here? We gotta be up in less than six hours anyway. You might as well.”

Day had gotten so used to him crashing on his couch that he’d given him a dresser drawer and some space in the hall closet.

“Mm-hmm.” God tore his shirt over his head, and Day quickly averted his eyes. God grabbed the thin blanket off the back of the couch and spread it over his chest.

“Night, bro.”

Day turned out the lights, except the dim one in the hall, and had almost closed himself in his room when he heard God whisper, “Night.”

Day

The sound of low murmurs jerked Day out of fitful sleep. He rubbed his eyes, his mind struggling to catch up on the minimal amount of sleep he’d gotten for days.

Instinctually, he reached for his phone to check the time. It was almost three in the morning, and he still had a couple ofhours to rest. He wondered if he’d been dreaming too hard, but the strangled murmurs followed by a loud grunt had him on his feet.

He hurried out of his room, his bare footsteps light as he made his way down the short hallway.

Day scanned the room until his gaze landed on God. His big, muscular frame looked even more imposing in the darkness, but the twitches and flexed tendons in his neck made a sense of dread wash over Day.

God let out a long groan as if he were in pain.

Day hurried to God’s side and went down on one knee, careful not to startle him out of whatever battle was occurring in his mind.

“God,” he whispered.

God’s brow furrowed as he let out another strained grunt. His breathing shifted, more urgent now, and Day’s chest began to tighten.

Something or someone was tormenting his partner.

God’s temple pulsed, his lips pulling into a grimace as he released a deep whimper that broke Day’s heart.

“God…wake up.”

God inhaled a sharp breath, then jerked his head to the right as if he’d been struck.

Day’s voice didn’t seem to be making it through whatever nightmare was playing out in God’s subconscious.

Day’s throat felt blocked. He’d never seen God look or sound so vulnerable. This was not the hard-assed cop he’d come to know.

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