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Because I could see that this was hurting himbad. In a way that no monster ever could.

I didn’t even have to think about it.

I crossed the room and wrapped my arms around him, drawing his body against mine in a firm and deep hug. It wasn’t the way men hug, with one arm, bodies turned away from each other. This was all of me, giving comfort to all of him, in a completely open and visceral way, all walls down.

Because I instinctively knew that was what he fuckingneeded.

For an instant, he froze.

Michael and I don’t hug. Ever. He knows this. I know this. We both know it.

But screw it.

I had already realized that I loved him, hadn’t I? And now I was having a weird sexual identity crisis as a result. How much more confusing than that could things ever possibly get between us?

When it became clear to both of us that I wasn’t going to break the hug immediately, Michael wrapped his arms around me too. He was only an inch taller than me, so it was easy for him to put his head on my shoulder. And he did exactly that for a long moment.

It was surprisingly… nice.

Something hot and fierce and protective surged up in me at the intimacy of his gesture. He didn’t feel the way a woman would have; his body was harder and stronger than that. But there was still a softness to the moment, a tenderness to it, that I hadn’t realized I had been needing—perhaps for years—until I was caught up smack-dab in the middle of it.

I craved it like water. I craved it like breathing. I cravedhim.

Arousal tore through me at his nearness, and I began to grow hard.

The suddenness—and physicality—of the desire startled me. But it was followed by a crashing sense of relief. Maybe my bodywasgetting the memo that I wasn’t entirely straight, after all.

And it didn’t feel weird, like I had been afraid of. It felt… good.

Maybe—

Michael broke away. He met my eyes for only an instant. I expected him to make a joke, or to tease me, or to say something completely random and off-the-wall to shatter the closeness between us, which I knew he had to have felt too.

But instead, he looked me right in the eye and said, “Thank you.”

Something went tight in my throat and my jaw all at the same time, and it felt like my insides were all knotted up. I could hardly even force the words out, but they were too important to me not to say.

“You know that I’d do anything for you.”

Michael’s eyes were still a little shinier than they should have been, but his smile came back, though it was maybe a bit wry. He replied, “You know what? I think I might have noticed that.”

CHAPTER FOUR || MICHAEL

Ihated being the bait, even though playing that part was usually my doing most of the time. Because the only thing I hated more than being bait was when Danny was the bait.

Still, the ‘bar’ that Sheriff Dennison had pointed us to was an awful lot more like a metropolitan night club than I’d been expecting for a town the size of Ontario. It was complete with strobe lights, techno remixes of popular songs, multiple floors, and throngs of drunk people gyrating to the music out on the dance floor. After two drinks in me, I also found myself smack-dab in the center of the dance floor.

Danny, true to his word, watched me from the sidelines, his rum and coke untouched in front of him. He’d already gently rebuffed a cute brunette lady in a pretty dress who had tried to chat him up. He’d probably have to do it at least twice more before the night was through. He usually had to beat women—and a fair number of men, too—off with stick whenever we went out. I suspected he hardly even noticed it anymore, or thought about the reasons why total strangers might want to chat him up.

Danny was beautiful.

You’re not supposed to say that about guys, especially not guys who were supposed to be straight, but screw it. In his case, it happened to be true. He had all the usual—he wasfive-eleven, lean, and well-enough built, with decently broad shoulders, flawless brown skin, an angular jawline, and high cheek bones that belied his Native American descent. All of that would’ve made him at least passably attractive to almost anyone, probably. But it was the unusual about him that made it hard to look away. His dark eyes, made even more intense by thick slashes of eyebrows, had an uncanny depth to them, like you could peer right into his soul if you gazed long enough. And his black hair, always cropped short for practical reasons—you don’t want to let monsters have any convenient hand-holds if you can avoid it—had begun to grow out a little and was now veering into adorably shaggy territory. He’d swept it off to the side, mostly because he hated messing with it, but it looked good on him—just a smidge of boyishness to soften all those hard edges. And then there were his wide, full lips, which were almost too sensitive for a man. You could tell there was an unusual depth to him, just by looking. If you stared too long, you might get entranced.

Those kinds of thoughts were dumb and very, very bad. And they would lead nowhere good, would they? Right into temptation. And say I everdidtake Danny up on it, what, exactly, did he want to happen between us? He’d never been with a man before. And he’d made it clear he wasn’t attracted to guys either. That couldn’t have suddenly changed, right?

Still, when I glanced over, the look on Danny’s face as he watched me was strangely dark and hungry. But I knew him well enough to know that his expression was a little angry, too. His eyes were locked onto the cute blond twink that was dancing with me and it looked vaguely like he was plotting murder.

Possibly a double homicide.