Page 56 of Never Say Die
But there they were.Together.
They paid the admission fee at the International UFO Museum and started the tour, winding through staged exhibits and crash-site recreations. Dylan studied each replica alien with an intensity Aiden had never seen before, and Pru snapped bubblegum while she took pictures. Freshly smoked weed left a haze around them, encouraging random spikes of laughter. Shoulders brushed and hands tangled, arms looped over shoulders, and waists were playfully steered. Aiden held Georgia’s elbow as they poked at a gelatinous alien on a silver examining table, and Pru hopped onto Dylan for a piggyback ride to the next room. Shay snuck his finger through Aiden’s beltloop, halting him as the others walked ahead. They kissed next to a silver disk stuck like a frisbee in roped-off sand, and Aiden thought,Shay, you asshole, I’ve always known you were sweet.
“You saved us, but you still scared me last night,” Shay said. A soft, honest smile creased his bloodshot eyes, and he grazedAiden’s bandage with his thumb. “Thought you’d done some serious damage.”
“You ate five witches,” Aiden said, matter-of-factly. “I didn’t save a damn thing.”
“Four.”
“Whatever,” Aiden mumbled, and stepped toward the next exhibit, tugging Shay with him. Fangs teased at his lips, kissing, pulling, nipping. Their mouths grew urgent, pressing harder, stirring heat beneath his skin. Aiden shied away before he went to his knees in a family-friendly museum. “We shouldn’t tell the band like this.”
Shay tipped his head. “Shouldn’t tell them what?”
“Don’t be a dick,” Aiden said, laughing in his throat.
Palms groped over his clothes—thighs, ass, hips—then lips ghosted Aiden’s cheek, and Shay walked into the following exhibit with Pru, Dylan, and Georgia. Aiden wanted to drag him into the bathroom again. Wanted to take him outside and touch him in broad daylight. But telling Dylan and Georgia that he’d swallowed his pride and fallen in love with their front-man sounded like the absoluteworstidea. He knew them and they knew him, and after all these years, Dylan and Georgia wouldn’t be surprised.
Aiden joined the group in front of an area dedicated to documented UFO sightings.
“There’s an ice cream parlor across the street,” Pru said, staring at the wall.
Dylan made a joyful noise and ducked toward the gift shop.
Georgia bought a cheesy alien decal for the RV and Shay bought five boxes of alien-themed candy. Aiden fumbled with a souvenir keychain he’d found for Camila and tried not to blush when Shay touched his tailbone. The day hadn’t been perfect, but it was the closest he’d gotten in a while. Georgia laughed skyward and her dress twirled as she spun across the crosswalkwhile Pru teased Dylan about his newly purchased alien plushie.
They were a band again, bonded like a bloodstain.
The fuzzy high Aiden carried through the museum faded as he lapped at his ice cream cone, but the heat Shay had kissed into him refused to dim. He watched Shay lick fudge from the side of his hand and forced his eyes to settle elsewhere. They’d jumped into inescapable wanting, and Aiden reveled in the suspension, the held breath, the newborn lust, exposed like a nerve. He wanted to enjoy this—them,him—for however long they had left before someone found their fingerprints on a decomposing body.
“Can we do somethin’ lowkey tonight?” Aiden asked, and swallowed the rest of his cone.
“We went to bed at, like, ten last night,” Georgia said, snickering. “You feelin’ okay? Usually, you’d be scoping out the nearest nightclub by now.”
“Just tired, I think. Pretty sure Dylan still wants that bathtub time, too.”
Dylan nodded. “Yeah, I’m down for another quiet night. That little diner had good food and I’ve got a bathbomb to use. It’s not like we won’t find plenty of shit to do in Austin.”
“That dinerdidhave good food. Cute waitress, too,” Pru said.
Georgia lifted her chin, assessing Pru like a picked lock, and said, “Yeah, oaky. No one’s gotta sell me on relaxing. We’ve got a long drive tomorrow, anyway.”
“Gary should have track edits for us at some point,” Shay said, glancing at Aiden. “So, we should probably be around for that.”
Aiden didn’t didn’t care about the track or Dylan’s bathbomb or twice-fried onion rings. He just wanted to be alone with Shay. Wanted to fuck him with the lights on while they were sober. Hold him. Be held by him.
“Yeah, right,” Aiden said, clearing his throat. “We should probably see what Jacob has planned for that, too.”
“Cool.” Georgia waved to the Lyft driver and stepped off the curb, walking briskly toward a pearl Suburban. “This is us, guys.”
The driver made small talk with Dylan up front. Pru and Georgia thumbed through their phones in the middle seats. Aiden steadied every inhale, feeling across Shay’s knuckles in the backseat, swallowing hard and chewing on his lip, trying not to arch against the hand between his legs. He almost pushed Shay away. Almost whisperedwait, fuck, please, I’ll?—
But they arrived, rolling to a stop in the motel parking lot. The doors slid open, Dylan hollered about his bath, Pru thanked the driver, and Aiden breathed like he’d ran a mile. Late afternoon brightened the sky, stretching the shadows, and Aiden almost fell into Shay, almost tugged at his clothes, almost said,please, keep going—yes, right here.
“Dinner in an hour? I’ll text Jacob and. . .” Pru paused. She stopped breathing. Listened, intently, and turned toward a group gathering behind them.
Unwarranted stillness arrived, as if the day had suddenly paused, confusing itself for night. Something cut through the air, back and forth, feathering to the asphalt. One dusty velvet glove.
Aiden watched the garment crumble, and he almost collapsed. He heard it everywhere, drumming faster and harder: his angry, horrified heartbeat, begging him—run, go, don’t look.
