Page 71 of The Good Vampire’s Guide to Blood & Boyfriends

Cole edged closer to Brennan, water rippling around him, blinking somewhere past his shoulder. Cole joined him in floating near the edge of the pool, hanging on to the wall. Maybe it was the darkness, the fact that he could see Cole but Cole couldn’t see him, that made it easier.

“You know, maybe I do understand.” Brennan was sure it confused Cole, but he didn’t say anything, just pressed his fingers harder into Brennan’s shoulder and treaded water.

“Can I be honest with you?” And when that was too vulnerable,he followed up with, “Since you already brought down the mood and everything.”

Cole swatted him.

“You’re ridiculous,” Cole said. And instead of returning to his shoulder, he reached for his hand. Oh god. Brennan must be more pathetic and starved of intimacy than he thought, because just that was heart-stopping. This was slow and intentional, not an afterthought as they jumped in the pool. He was even more grateful for the dark, because eye contact on top of it all might actually melt him down to goo.

“Are you afraid of the dark?” Brennan asked.

“Only if I’m alone,” Cole said. Brennan squeezed his hand. “But come on, you can tell me anything.”

Interesting. Brennan believed him.

Cole inched closer. Maybe he thought Brennan couldn’t see, either. Somehow, that seemed unfair. Like he was cheating.

He closed his eyes.

“I used to want to die, like, all the time,” he said. There, years of grueling depression summed up in a neat little sentence. “I know, I seem so put-together, it’s shocking.” Humor, to deflect, as Dr. Morris so often pointed out. “But I’ve kind of been depressed and anxious my whole life. I was existential. Like, ‘We’re all insignificant, nothing matters, life sucks and then you die’ existential.”

“Do you… still?”

Brennan flexed his fingers nervously where they clung to the edge of the pool.

“Sometimes it’s worse or better. I’m okay a lot of the time now. Therapy does wonders, but for a while there…”

“It was bad,” Cole concluded.

“Yeah,” Brennan said. “I’ve always been depressed and anxious. I think I’ll probably be depressed and anxious in some capacity for the rest of my life. Which, given recent events, will be a long time.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that. I have anxiety. I go to therapy. It’s not a big deal.”

“Yes, but what I mean is.” Brennan stopped, frustrated. “What I’m trying to say is, it’s never your fault. Sometimes it’s theparents’fault,maybe, but you can’t blame yourself for not being there if he pushed you away. It’s brain chemicals and generational trauma, but not your responsibility.”

It suddenly felt important that Cole knew that.

“Don’t you think more people in the world would be okay if they saw a friendly face when they needed it? If there was a little more compassion?” Cole asked.

A possibility occurred to him that Cole was there out of pity after seeing Brennan’s panic attack, that he was walking on eggshells around Brennan, scared of hurting his feelings when he was near his breaking point.

“Other people’s happiness isn’t your responsibility,” Brennan said.

“Okay. Maybe not. I’d still like to try.”

“That’s a nice way of thinking, but what about whatyouwant?”

“I’m right where I want to be,” Cole said, so quick Brennan was dizzy with it.

“Oh? In a dark, wet room, alone with a vampire?”

“Don’t forgetcold.”

“Sounds like a nice night,” Brennan said.

“It has been,” Cole said. Slid closer to Brennan, the water around them sloshing. Brennan could feel Cole shivering.

“If you’re cold, maybe we should go—”