Page 142 of The Good Vampire’s Guide to Blood & Boyfriends

hey, 1/4 isn’t bad!

Dom

1/4 won’t stop vampires from starving and killing people

Cole

we have time! We’ve got this!

“The New Squad” Group Chat with you and 4 others

Mari

update! we’re at 94 packs out of a goal of 180 after day 4 of illegal blood driving!

Tony

uwhoooooooooaaaa we’re halfway there!!!u

Dom

Living on a prayer is right. Halfway isn’t good enough. We have two days left.

Brennan was scribbling in his notebook when Cole strolled into Brennan and Tony’s apartment. Tony was at Mari and Cole’s place making a vat of garlic sauce as a precautionary measure, thankfully far away from Brennan. But all week, people had been coming and going freely, so Brennan didn’t even look up, only registering it was Cole by the smell of coffee that wafted in with him.

“Hey,” Brennan said absently, finishing a thought with a flurry of his pen.

The warm press of Cole draped over him from behind where he was hunched on the couch, arms wrapping around his shoulders and kissing the top of his head.

“Enough planning,” Cole said. “Take a break.”

“We have less than twenty-four hours before the ball,” Brennan said, scanning the list in front of him. “I’m going over the backup plans again.”

Cole withdrew and started shedding his coat and bag.

“You’ve done everything you can at this point. You need to rest.”

Brennan shook his head, even though his own writing looked like scribbled gibberish after staring at it for so many hours. But this was too important.

“If we mess this up, everything changes,” Brennan said.

“You won’t mess this up. I trust you. I wouldn’t be going into a pit full of vampires if I didn’t believe you could do this.”

Brennan swallowed hard. Cole sounded so confident.

“And what if I can’t?” he said.

Cole reappeared in front of him, and then Cole’s hands were prying the journal from Brennan’s and setting it to the side. Cole straddled Brennan as swiftly as the journal was removed, taking up the space in his lap it had occupied.

“Then I guess we’ll have to flee the country and start a new life in the French countryside,” Cole said.

“Well, thank god you have a plan,” Brennan said, but Cole was so close with his jawline and his pink lips that Brennan forgot what they were talking about.

“I like to be prepared,” Cole said.

Cole ducked down and caught Brennan’s mouth in a kiss, and, like a switch, all the stresses and questions and problems swirling in Brennan’s brain turned off, replaced by the feeling of Cole’s lips, his hands keeping balance on his shoulders, his thighs bracketing Brennan’s.

Cole pulled back.