Page 50 of How to Bare Your Neck and Save a Wreck
Andres let Maddox and Tara go, watching from a distance to be sure they got safely to Maddox’s motorcycle, but his heart, mind, and body were still focused on Shane, his worry consuming more and more of him by the minute. Andres couldn’t just walk around to the alley. He’d transformed his outfit by buttoning up his shirt to the collar and pulling his pant legs down over his high boots, the coat, gloves, and mask he’d worn all evening already long gone and his sturdy black frames on in place of the night’s colored contacts, but he still had an air of ostentation and a plethora of red, gold, and black eye makeup that might have been suitable for any number of boardwalk clubs but not a backstreet full of an unknown number of Vitalis-Barron employees. And Maddox had called an ambulance there anyway; Andres could hear it pulling in now.
His phone buzzed.
He’d forgotten it so completely that the vibration startled him. But he’d constructed a pocket into Shane’s outfit to let him carry one himself, so—
Andres scrambled to pull out the device. He had to flip away from a stack of grumbling messages from Maul in his scramble to open the thread he wanted.
Shane
I just had the weirdest night, and I kind of need someone to know I’m alive right now.
Oh thank fuck. Andres could cry. Hewascrying, mist forming at the corners of his eyes. He tried his best to wipe beneath hisglasses without smearing his makeup. This wasn’thisShane, he reminded himself. Not the vampire’s Shane, but the one belonging to his friendly neighborhood emotional wreckage.
Andres
Are you all right? Where are you?
Are you alone?
Do you need help?
/I care
Shane
You are such a mom friend, and you know that’s not how you use the backslash /affectionate
Yes, I’m fine, just shaken. I got separated from my partner, but I’m not really alone if I’m talking to you? ;)
(There’s also plenty of strangers around now, if I need help.)
Wait,partner? Andres’s heart skipped a beat, trying to settle somewhere between an overjoyedwe’re dating nowand the icy knowledge that they could never have a real relationship so long as he still hid his identity. Then a selfie loaded with the messageproof of life. Shane had Andres’s black coat wrapped tightly around him, and he must have removed his collar, because one side of Andres’s hastily-closed bite mark peeked out, a red dot surrounded by a bruise. The background was so dark that it took Andres a moment to recognize it: the lake. Shane was at the boardwalk.
Phone still clutched in his hand, Andres ran.
When they’d entered the Starlight Club, it had been late in the evening, the Saturday night crowds in full swing, but now they were starting to tamper off, the sidewalk hordes lessening to a scattering of couples enjoying the mild spring night and a tipsy brides-person party in rainbow tiaras tottering on their heels from laughter, the Fishnettery aglow behind them. The lake had emptied of all but a single boat, far across the water.
And there stood Shane. Arms clutched tight to his chest, his cheeks pink and his hair a mess, the scent of him, savory, a little burnt and a little sweet and so, so warm, mixing with the tang of the breeze off the lake. He was the most beautiful thing Andres had ever seen—whole and uninjured and waiting for Andres.
But that wasn’t right; Shane wasn’t waiting for Andres. He was waiting for his vampire.
Andres’s heart caught and his hand went to the back of his pants where he’d stashed his mask. He found nothing—lost during the escape. He took a step back, but his moment of hesitation allowed Shane’s gaze to latch onto him in the darkness.
No horror or anger followed, Shane’s brows simply tightening as he squinted. He lifted a hand to wave without really tugging it away from his chest, and asked, “Do you know me?”
“Oh. Um, yes, hello.” Andres was crying again, tears too big and full to miss. Shane still didn’t know. He was safe and he was alive, and he didn’t belong to any version of Andres that could be here right now. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, wiping his eyes as he closed the gap between them.
Something like recognition crossed Shane’s face, but his confusion only deepened. “Andres?”
His name on Shane’s lips was immaculate, and yet it sounded just like the beginning of the end. “I promise I’m not always like this.”
“It’s all right.” Shane looked unsure of what to do with himself, like he wanted to offer a hug but didn’t know where they stood on physical touch. Andres’s whole heart yearned for it, to wrap him up in his arms and just hold onto him until the chaos in his chest subsided, but for all the emotional intimacy they’d shared over text, they’d never really touched, not from Shane’s perspective. And Shane kept watching him, his eyespulling back across Andres’s jawline, over his lips, along his earlobes to where the ends of his hair curled.
Andres pressed a hand to his mouth, looking down the boardwalk. “Can you not?” he muttered. “I feel enough like a fool.”
He hadn’t specified what he wanted stopping, but Shane turned slowly toward the lake, one hand on the railing. He cleared his throat. “Were you at the Fishnettery again?”
“No, just… a club.” Andres had to stop talking. He had to stopbeinghere. But he had to stop lying, too, or he was going to ruin this, dig himself deeper until it was a pit he couldn’t climb out of without breaking both their necks in the process. He had already lied for so long…
