Page 332 of Shadowman

“There you are!” Trevel’s voice assaults my back, followed instantly by his hands on my shoulders, massaging me as he does, absentmindedly. “Oh good, you haven’t gone in yet.”

Trevel notices that I’m frozen in awkwardness, and he glances at Michelangelo, who’s gaping at him. He cocks his head.

At first, it seems like he might ask who this is… But I think it’s clear from one look…

The dark hair and the bright blue eyes, the pink lips and sharp jawline.

Like a Ren from another dimension.

“Hi.” My boyfriend smiles, though I can see the dark stuff all over his face. “I’m Trevel, Byron’s fiancé.”

He extends his hand to Michelangelo, following a word that wasn’t accurate, though it flowed from his plush lips like the truest thing he’s ever said.

I’m gawking up at him, as is Michelangelo while he takes Trevel’s hand and shakes it slowly.

“Oh… wow.” He coughs. “You’re engaged…? Congrats!”

It’s the most forced compliment ever, but still, I’m not focused on him anymore.

How is he gonna just call me his fiancé like that??

We’re not engaged!

Sure, we talked about it when we were in London, and the thought of asking him gave me the most thrilling sense of fear I’ve ever experienced. But life got in the way, and it slipped my mind…

Okay, that’s bullshit.It’s never far in my mind, but I’m scared.

I’m afraid of anything bad happening to ruin this love that lights up my soul.

Forcing down the confusion, I mutter, “Sorry, baby, this is Michelangelo Russo. The late… Governor Russo’s son. Michelangelo, this is Trevel Fenwick. My…” I gulp. “Fiancé.”

“So lovely to meet you.” Trevel pulls a sickeningly sweet smile.

“Likewise.” Michelangelo’s shock seems to be morphing into something else I don’t want to think about.

“I was so sorry to hear about your father,” Trevel says. “My condolences.”

Michelangelo just nods and stares.

Trevel turns to me. “Baby, I just remembered, I left the stove on.”

I blink at him, arching a brow. “The stove?”

When the hell has he ever used the stove??

“Yea, big mess. Stove on, bacon grease… everywhere. The place is probably burning down, so we should probably—” He nods in the direction of our building. “But it was so nice to meet you, Michael.”

“Michelangelo,” he mutters.

“Hopefully, we get to see you around real soon.” Trevel pats him on the shoulder, then takes my hand. “Come now, beautiful.”

Nodding, I cast one last glance at the man who I’dthoughtfor so long was my first real love. “It was nice… uh, yea.”

“You too.” Michelangelo bites his lip, but I don’t get to see how long he watches us, because myfiancéis dragging me up the block.

Scurrying after him, I hiss under my breath, “Fiancé??”

His jaw is visibly tight. “Yea. So?”