Chapter Eight

“You’re a jackass,” Wes mumbled to his reflection in the bathroom mirror the next morning.

Colt would not be happy when he found out why Wes was cutting his personal protection gig for Shane Castle short. And honestly, Wes wasn’t happy with himself either. Given the way Wes had come down on Colt for doing the same damn thing. The only exception being that those two had a history. Wes had known Shane for a month.

He ran a hand through his hair as he returned to his bedroom. He still didn’t know what had come over him last night. Shane had been falling apart, and he’d reacted on instinct. He hadn’t known if wrapping Shane tight in his arms to ward off his panic attack was the right thing to do or not. But it had helped. Too well. When Shane turned in his embrace and looked at him with those big, warm, honey-brown eyes, all common sense bolted like a herd of spooked horses.

And what had happened next . . . He didn’t know what it was about Shane, but he’d never felt so much for anyone before. Echoes of Shane’s kisses ghosted across his lips and a fresh spike of desire shot through him. If Shane weren’t his client, he’d have taken him to bed and worshipped his body throughout the night.

But Shane was his client.

Guilt hit him like a ton of bricks. He should never have let that happen. Should never have lost control and crossed that line. And now, because he’d gone and fucked up, he’d compromised Shane’s safety by not being able to focus on his job. That much was clear, with how his thoughts kept returning to the feel of Shane’s lips, and the touch of his body, and the sexy sounds he made as he came .

“Stop it,” he admonished himself as he pulled on his shoulder holster and tucked his gun safely into it before exiting his room.

Shane was still in his room, thankfully. Wes wasn’t quite ready to face him, but he needed to apologize to Shane. Not only for his unprofessional behavior, but for running away after. Shane deserved better than that. Better than him.

With a shake of his head, he crossed the suite and started a pot of coffee brewing in the kitchenette. Back at the table, he tapped the trackpad to wake up his laptop. The screen sprang to life where it had been when he’d left off—the photo of the two of them in Shane’s condo and the stalker’s warning.

Shit .

He should have been working throughout the night. Instead, he’d been kissing Shane. Kissing him and grinding against him like a horny teenager.

Dammit. He was an adult. A professional. But Shane Castle called to him in a way he couldn’t fight. Therein lay the problem. How could he do his job if Shane filled his every thought? How could he keep Shane safe if he was so fixated on him, he couldn’t see anything else? How would he see threats coming if all he saw was Shane?

With a shake of his head, as if that would evict all things Shane Castle, he closed out of Shane’s inbox and opened his own. Isaac had sent a reply message, letting him know that he’d contacted the authorities in California and forwarded the email and photo along. At least Wes had had the good sense to alert Isaac right away, before Shane’s meltdown and Wes’s complete failure at maintaining professional boundaries.

With a huff, he rose from his chair and poured himself a cup of coffee. Focus, focus, focus . For the time being, until he spoke with Isaac and his replacement arrived, he needed to ensure Shane’s safety. Starting with his beach house in Malibu.

Returning to his makeshift office at the table, he grabbed his phone. His thumb hovered over Isaac’s number, but he scrolled past and called Timothy Atenas, a guy he’d met on a job several years ago in California.

“Wesley Stonebraker!” Timothy’s voice boomed in his ear. “It’s been too long, my man. ”

Wes chuckled and leaned back in his chair. “That it has.”

After a few minutes of catching up, Wes cut to the chase. He didn’t know why, but a strong sense of time running out came over him.

“So, listen.” Wes slipped into business mode. “I need your help with something.”

“Anything,” Timothy enthused. “I still owe you one.”

“You don’t but thank you.” Wes grinned. Timothy had a knack for “owing one” to everyone he met, and Wes knew it wasn’t that he actually did . He just loved helping people and never wanted them to feel like they were a burden to him.

Wes filled him in on what was happening and about the photo from Shane’s condo.

“Could you and your team do a sweep of the entire place for listening devices and hidden cameras?” Wes gave him the door code when he finished.

“No problem at all,” Timothy assured without hesitation. “We had a cancellation this afternoon, so we can get up there today.”

“Appreciate it,” Wes said as Shane appeared in the open doorway of his bedroom and the breath caught in Wes’s throat.

He wore a pair of loose-fitting black sweatpants and an old Audio Siren concert T-shirt that had a hole in one shoulder and frayed threads at the bottom. His hair was a gorgeous mess.

Wes swallowed down a rush of desire and looked away. Prime example of why he needed to leave. He couldn’t be responsible for Shane’s safety when he couldn’t even think clearly around him.

He cleared his throat and stared at his computer.

“When the condo is clear,” Wes said to Timothy, “get all the locks changed and a new security system installed. Don’t give anyone the new keycode except me.”

“You got it, boss,” Timothy said.

“Thanks, man.” Wes sighed. One task taken care of to ensure Shane would be safe after Wes left. “Now I owe you one.”

Timothy laughed, deep and hearty. “Oh, I’ll be sending you the bill.”

“Just the same.”

“I’ll text you when we’re done. ”

“Thanks. Take care, bud.” Wes disconnected the call, and glanced at Shane, who was still standing in the doorway of his room but was now leveling a death glare at him.

“There’s fresh coffee.” Wes stood and shoved his hands into his pockets. He didn’t want this tension between them, even though he’d been the one to put it there. “I’m sorry about last night.”

Shane raised an eyebrow. “Which part?”

Wes’s heart squeezed. He deserved that.

“I don’t want you to think I didn’t want that,” Wes said. His words were low and rough sounding to his ears. “Or that I don’t want you, because I did. I do . More than I should. But your safety is more important. You need someone who can focus one hundred percent on the job. I can’t do that anymore.”

Shane remained still as a statue, his expression unreadable, but at least he wasn’t glaring anymore.

“Even with all that,” Shane said as he headed for the kitchenette, oblivious to Wes’s internal battle. His sleepy voice was sexy as hell. “I don’t think I’ll ever feel comfortable at home again.”

Wes stared at him for a second before the words made sense. So, Shane was going straight to business. Which, okay. That was what he wanted. So why did it feel like someone had just popped his balloon?

He understood how difficult it would be for Shane to go to home now, always looking over his shoulder and wondering if he was being watched, being recorded. If someone was lying in wait for him. All Wes could do was to ensure the place was clear of devices and secured.

“Did you talk to Isaac?” Shane asked, and Wes didn’t fail to pick up on the subtle note of despondency in his words.

Wes shook his head. His own voice sounded tight when he said, “I’ll catch up with him at the production meeting.”

He should have called Isaac first thing, but he decided stepping down was an in-person conversation. He was stalling. Not because he didn’t want to leave Shane’s protection to anyone else, but because he didn’t want to leave Shane . His stomach knotted at the thought. Somewhere along the way, he’d begun to care for Shane too much, to want too much. From wanting this job over as soon as possible to not wanting to leave at all. Which meant he had no choice but to quit .

After tonight’s show, Audio Siren was headed to Kansas in the morning. Wes didn’t think Isaac could pull someone in that fast, but it wouldn’t be impossible. Isaac had a wide reach in the industry, and Wes wouldn’t be surprised if he’d be heading home after tomorrow’s show. He rubbed a hand over the sudden, sharp pinch in his chest.

Recusing himself from this job was the right thing to do. He was fooling himself if he thought he could keep his growing feelings for Shane from affecting his judgment—or that anything lasting could happen between them. If not for Shane’s stalker, their paths would never have crossed. Their lives were too different. Which was another thing he’d do well to keep in mind.

“You’re still leaving then?”

Wes didn’t like the flatness in Shane’s voice, but he understood it. Shane kept his back to Wes as he poured coffee into the mug Wes had left by the pot for him.

No was on the tip of his tongue, but he bit it back. Through a thick throat, he said, “It’s the right thing to do.”

“Right. Of course.” Shane took a sip of his coffee. He stalked back across the suite to his room, and tossed over his shoulder, “Once a cowboy, always a cowboy.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Wes snapped, but the slam of Shane’s door was his only answer.

Wes dragged a hand down his face and cursed. This wasn’t how he wanted things to end between him and Shane.

He sat back down at the table with a ragged sigh and stared at his laptop. He had to try again to track the stalker’s emails. At least get a solid lead. So far, he hadn’t had much luck. The emails came from a VPN and routed through a maze of IP addresses across the world—different every time. Finding the right link was like untangling a massive jumble of Christmas lights. Confusing. Frustrating. But at some point, Shane’s stalker was going to make a mistake—they always did—and Wes would be right there to catch them.

But you won’t be here .

He shoved the thought aside. Until his replacement arrived, he remained in charge of Shane’s safety and would continue as though last night hadn’t happened .

Half an hour later, Shane exited his room again and Wes noticed two things at once: one, Shane was even more gorgeous. Dressed all in black, as usual, fingers laden with silver rings, smoky eyeshadow giving a dangerous edge to his eyes, and a clear gloss on his kissable lips. And two, the Shane standing before him, looking at him with an air of indifference through eyes that should be warm but now were cold? This was Shane Castle the Rock Star—aloof. Detached. Wes missed the real Shane with surprising force. The Shane whose teasing and innuendo had become fun instead of annoying and that he’d grown to crave.

Wes swallowed hard. Maybe if he’d never been privileged enough to have spent time with the real Shane Castle, he wouldn’t be in his current predicament at all. Except that he had been learning who the man behind the facade was and, though it meant compromising his job, he still wanted to know more.

But maybe it was better this way.

Keeping his tone even, Wes said, “We need to head down for the production meeting now.”

Shane let his gaze drag down Wes’s body and back up, but instead of making one of his typically inappropriate comments, Shane simply lifted an eyebrow. With a haughty tip to his chin, he strolled toward the door with all the grace of a prowling panther.

Wes rushed for the door, cutting Shane off before he reached it.

“Not before me,” he barked. “You know better.”

Shane crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m waiting.”

Wes flattened his mouth and narrowed his eyes, but kept his thoughts to himself. He deserved Shane’s attitude. He didn’t like it, but he knew he had to take it.

Before opening the door, he checked he had the room key, double-checked that his gun was in its holster, and put his hat on. He stepped out first, nodding to Isaac’s security team member stationed in the hall, and then waved for Shane to follow him.

“Good morning, Dave,” Shane said to the guard, his voice light and friendly with a hint of tease in it.

Wes bit back a growl as he strode down the short hall. He punched the elevator call button a few times.

“Once is enough,” Shane reproved .

Wes slanted a glare at him, but it missed its mark. Shane stood with his hands behind his back and his gaze fixed on the backlit display above the elevator doors that showed which floor the car was on. A few seconds later, the car dinged its arrival, and the doors swooshed open. Wes checked to make sure the car was empty before ushering Shane in.

Without looking at him, Shane pulled his phone from his jeans pocket as he entered. He leaned against the back wall, head down. The ride to the conference floor was the longest and most awkward half dozen seconds of Wes’s life, while he struggled for something to say, to get them back to where they were before last night but coming up empty.

When they reached the meeting room to discuss the day’s preshow interviews, Wes had to jump in front of Shane once again to scan the room before he entered. Deemed safe, he stood back as Shane strolled in ahead, and all pretense dropped as he greeted his bandmates with what Wes knew was a forced joviality. Wes tried not to let it bother him, but it did. That right there was another reason he needed off this gig. He’d never felt the green tinge of jealousy before now. Before Shane Castle.

He spotted Isaac grabbing a Danish from a small buffet table at the back of the room. Wes inhaled deep and shook his hands to relax them as he walked to Isaac’s side.

“Hey,” Wes said, his voice low. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

Concern tightened Isaac’s face. “Did something else happen?”

“No. Well . . .” Wes hesitated. “Nothing more with the stalker after last night’s email, but—”

Isaac’s phone rang, and after a glance at the screen, he held up a finger. “Hang on, I have to get this.”

“Sure, of course.” Wes stepped back as Isaac left the room, phone to his ear and Danish forgotten.

Wes eyed the buffet table, and his stomach growled, letting him know it had been too many hours since he’d last filled it. Just as he reached for a plate, the suspense ringtone sounded from his phone—the ringtone he’d set for emails from Shane’s stalker.

With a furtive glance to make sure Shane hadn’t noticed, he retrieved his phone from his jacket pocket. Trepidation at what he’d find flashed through him as he opened the new missive from Your1andOnly . He never wanted to open another email like the last one.

Shane’s stalker was back to their creepy but pleasant salutation, but the body of the message negated anything even remotely pleasant.

My Dearest Shane,

I am very sorry about what happened to that man, but you only have yourself to blame. I warned you. I will not allow anyone to come between us or spoil our forthcoming nuptials, and I know you want that too, my love. Once we are together, it will be my honor and joy to make you the happiest man on earth. But please do not forget, there will be serious consequences for anyone who dares touch what is mine. I am always watching.

Your one and only love.

Embedded in the email below the message was a photo of the lobby doors of a hotel. It only took a second for Wes to recognize which hotel—the one they were in right now.

Wes cursed under his breath and scanned the room again. The meeting had begun, and all the band members’ attention was on Jonas and Doug, the head technician and Shane’s ex. Doug was speaking, and his phone was on the table in front of him. Could he have sent the email?

No way was he going to let Shane know about the new email. Last night’s message had been enough. If he knew his stalker knew where he was . . . Wes swiped out of his email, tapped the phone icon, and paused. What was he going to tell the police? ‘There’s a stalker outside but we don’t know what they look like, or if they’re even still here’? They could be anyone, and they could be long gone by now.

Fuck. He tucked his phone back into his pocket and lifted his hat to run a hand through his hair. His gaze settled on Shane, who was sitting at the end of the couch with his elbow resting on River’s shoulder, toying with a strap of leather on River’s shirt—a shirt that was made entirely from crisscrossed leather strips.

Shane’s long bangs hung over his face like a veil, but Wes knew how silky his hair felt sliding through his fingers. He knew the feel of Shane’s lean body pressed against his and the roll of his shoulders and the curve of his ass. He knew the taste of Shane and the sweetness of his satin lips .

Shane glanced over at him just then, as though Wes had telegraphed his thoughts, and their gazes locked. Wes’s heart sped up and heat flushed over his skin. He knew in that moment that he couldn’t leave Shane, couldn’t leave him under anybody else’s protection. As much as he knew quitting this job was the right thing to do, confident that Isaac would hire the best to take over, and as much as he wanted to go back home to the ranch and the horses, he knew he’d be in a constant state of worry for Shane the second he walked out the door.

Shane tilted his head, his smile faded, and Wes heard the unspoken question in his eyes: ‘what’s wrong’?

Wes gave his head a subtle shake, turning away as Isaac returned.

“Sorry about that,” Isaac said sotto voce. “That was the LA County Police Department. Unfortunately, the photos Shane’s stalker sent weren’t a hoax. They’re on the scene with a forensics team and will begin canvassing the neighborhood for any information soon, but so far, they don’t have any immediate leads.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.” Isaac turned to face him. “So, what did you need?”

Wes opened his mouth and snapped it shut. Five minutes ago, he’d have told Isaac they needed to hire someone else for Shane’s protection. But not now.

“We need to move Shane to a new hotel,” Wes said instead. He shot a covert glance at Shane, who was engrossed in something Daryl was saying. “Now.”

“What? Why?”

Wes filled Isaac in on the latest email, Isaac’s expression darkening with each word.

“But don’t officially check out of here,” Wes added. “Hopefully, the stalker will think that Shane is still at this hotel with the band.”

“On it,” Isaac growled as he retrieved his phone from his pocket and stepped out of the room again.

Wes ground his molars together. Somehow, he was going to have to figure out how to be around Shane without wanting him, because he wasn’t going anywhere until Shane’s stalker was behind bars.

Something was up.

Shane knew it in the way Wes leaned against the wall, trying too hard to look casual. Shane tried to keep his attention on the meeting, but his gaze kept sliding toward the tall cowboy, trying to figure out what was happening. Isaac returned and had a brief, hushed conversation with Wes before leaving the room again. His phone to his ear and his expression dark.

Did Isaac have his new bodyguard lined up already? Logically, he understood why Wes was stepping down, but his heart didn’t understand why it couldn’t have what it wanted, anyway. Just like all those years ago back home, when he’d fallen for a rough and tough cowboy, only to have his heart stomped into the dirt.

Shane flattened his mouth, pushed the ache in his chest aside, and returned his focus to Jonas. It would take some work to replace the bricks in the wall he’d built around himself that Wes had somehow knocked out, but this time he’d make them stronger. No one would ever get through again.

When the meeting ended and Shane made to rise from the couch, Wes motioned for him to wait.

Shane leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. With a huff, dropped them back to his sides.

“Jonas,” Wes said as everyone began to clear out. “Can you wait a minute?”

Jonas glanced between them and raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He nodded and sat back down. Sonia remained where she was, her expression and narrowed eyes daring Wes to just try to make her leave. He pursed his lips but said nothing.

Wes didn’t speak again as everyone else filed out, but his sharp gaze followed Doug as he walked past Wes. What was his beef with Doug ?

Jonas and Sonia watched him with curious expressions, but Shane already knew what this was about.

“When does my new bodyguard arrive?” Shane asked, relieved that he kept his tone neutral. He refused to let Wes see how much his dismissal last night affected him.

Jonas, Sonia, and Isaac’s heads swiveled from Shane to Wes and back .

“What do you need a new bodyguard for?” Jonas demanded. “You have Wes.”

“Is that what you wanted to talk about?” Isaac asked at the same time.

“Shane is not getting a replacement,” Wes barked with a force behind his words that surprised Shane. A spark of hope flickered in his chest, but he quickly doused it. He’d already learned his lesson, hadn’t he? He didn’t mix well with cowboys.

Still, the relief that Wes wasn’t going anywhere lingered like a seed waiting for a drop of activating water.

“I didn’t even know this was a discussion.” Jonas lowered his brows, as though being left out of a conversation was an offense worse than putting mayonnaise on a peanut butter and banana sandwich.

“It’s not,” Wes said to Jonas. He shifted a pointed look at Shane. “I’m staying on board.”

The brim of his cowboy hat shaded his eyes from the fluorescent lights in the high ceiling, but even from across the room Shane saw the storm swirling in their depths. Shane held his gaze for an extended beat. Maybe part of him was happy Wes was staying on, but damned if he was going to let the man see how his staying affected Shane.

“That’s great.” His voice was flat, unaffected. He crossed his arms over his chest again and stared at the wall over Jonas’s shoulder.

“There’s been another email,” Wes said after a few heavy seconds of silence.

Shane whipped his head around while his heart skipped a beat. Another one?

“A warning,” Wes continued. His voice was grave, and icy fingers scraped up Shane’s spine while images of Alex in a pool of blood flashed in his mind. “I think it would be best if he could lie low for a while.”

“Hard to do when he’s the front man for a touring rock band.” Jonas argued.

“I need to see it,” Shane demanded. But did he? He was still dealing with the tailspin the last email sent him on. “No. I don’t. In fact, only share if I absolutely need to know from now on. ”

“Is it possible to reschedule some shows while we try to find his stalker?” Wes directed his question to Jonas after a nod of acknowledgment at Shane.

“There’s no way in hell we’re going to cancel any shows because of this fucking stalker,” Shane snapped. He jumped from the couch and started pacing. “I won’t let anyone threaten or bully me into giving up the one thing that means anything in my life. I worked far too hard for my career to let some sick fuck take it away from me.”

“Nobody is going to take anything from you, Shane,” Wes replied, his tone frustratingly calm. “But it’s not just your safety anymore. The lives of your bandmates and friends, or anyone else your stalker perceives as rivals, are at risk now, too. Anything on the internet can trigger them, and we know they’ve already committed one murder. Hell, with Shanesley all over Shane’s socials, I’m a target, too.”

Shane stumbled to a stop. The blood drained from his face and his stomach bottomed out at the reminder of what had happened to Alex. Sleep had eluded him last night, because every time he closed his eyelids, he saw Alex staring back at him with flat lifeless eyes, lying on the cold tile floor covered in blood. And now, because of him, Wes could meet the same fate.

A full-body shudder rattled his frame while ice seeped into his veins. He stared at Wes, who looked far too chill.

“Hold up.” Jonas stood. His eyes wide. “What murder?”

“Alex is dead,” Shane rasped. He dragged his gaze from Wes to Jonas and started pacing again. “That asinine publicity stunt triggered the psycho.”

“Oh my god,” Sonia whispered.

Jonas flopped back to his seat and ran his hands through his perfectly coiffed hair. “When?”

“Last night.”

Sonia dug in her purse and retrieved a stick of Juicy Fruit. She slid it across the table for Shane. He mouthed thank you , stopping his pacing long enough to unwrap it.

“Wes is right,” Sonia said. “This is much more serious than creepy messages and unwanted gifts.”

“You know how many people rely on this band and these shows for their livelihood,” Shane argued. “I can’t take money out of their pockets because of one lunatic.” He popped the stick of gum into his mouth and pointed at Wes. “You need to catch the stalker!”

“What the hell do you think we’re trying to do?” Wes snapped back.

Shane opened his mouth to tell him to do a better job, but Jonas held his hand up. He was going to be pissed when he saw the mess he’d made of his hair.

“Actually, we can take a couple of weeks off.”

“Jonas . . .” Shane growled.

“ After tomorrow’s show.” Jonas raised an eyebrow and directed his words at Shane. “There’s a two-week break in the schedule.”

“Okay. Good,” Wes said after a moment of tense silence. “That works.”

Shane hated that he noticed Wes’s shoulders ever-so-slightly relax. He shouldn’t be so familiar with Wes for subtle things like that to stand out to him. Things like the way his eyes were cool and warm at the same time. Like the feel of his lips, and the taste of his kiss.

A break didn’t work for Shane, though. None of it did. Maybe it was good that if he had to go underground or to a safe house or whatever, an already scheduled break meant there wouldn’t be a loss of income for anyone who relied on the band for their living. But he needed to be on the road. He needed to keep busy, keep moving, or all he would think about was Alex and his dead eyes. About wanting Wes but not being able to have him.

“I can’t go back to my house in Malibu,” Shane whispered. His knees weakened, and he dropped back down to the couch.

“You’re not going there,” Wes said, his deep rumbling voice softer now. “I have somewhere else in mind for you.”

“Wait,” Sonia spoke up. “Where is Shane going?”

“I’d like to know where you think I’m going, too,” Shane grumbled.

Wes looked around the table, making eye contact with each of them. “The fewer people who know the better, so I’ll be keeping that information to myself.”

The room was silent while everyone digested what Wes had said. No one was going to know where Shane was except for Wes. Shane didn’t like the idea of being sequestered somewhere alone with him, not after last night. How the hell was that going to work ?

“You can’t possibly think one of us is his stalker,” Sonia said haughtily, her back straight as an arrow and chin jutted out.

“The thing is,” Wes began. “His stalker has had access to him no matter where he is. Which means it’s more likely it’s someone on this tour. So, until we catch whoever it is, I’ll feel better if we keep his whereabouts under wraps.”

Sonia was quiet for a second, glaring a hole through Wes.

“Fine,” she acquiesced when he didn’t budge. “I suppose that makes sense.”

“Maybe you could take the time and go on a vacation,” Jonas said to her. “When was the last time you weren’t at Shane’s beck and call?”

She snorted. “Never?”

“Mexico is nice this time of year,” Jonas added.

“Yeah,” Shane agreed. “Jonas is right. Go spend some quality time with Max. Hang out on the beach and dig your toes in the sand. Drink margaritas.”

“You’ll call if you need anything?” Sonia rolled a pen through her fingers, which Shane knew was a nervous habit. Even when the band was off the road and taking a break, Sonia was always working for him in some capacity, always in contact.

He nodded and turned to Wes, who still hadn’t taken a seat.

“So, where am I going?”

“You’ll know when you get there,” Wes said.

“Why can’t I know?” Jonas tried. “I’m his manager, after all.”

“Like I said,” Wes repeated. “The fewer people who know where Shane is, the safer he’ll be.”

“Okay, I get it.” A frown crossed Jonas’s face. “I guess it’s all settled then. When are you leaving?”

“After the show tomorrow night,” Wes supplied, but it was clear he had nothing more to say.

Jonas nodded, and Sonia tapped away on her tablet.

Shane leaned back. Apprehension swirled in his chest at the thought of being stashed away somewhere for two weeks with Wes. He knew already that keeping up his walls around Wes, when what he really wanted to do was smash them down once and for all, was going to be exhausting. But as Wes had pointed out, his stalker seemed to always know where he was, and not only that, was proving to be highly efficient at getting into wherever that was.

“There’s one more thing,” Wes hesitated, and the hairs on the back of Shane’s neck rose. “We’re changing hotels tonight.”

Of course they were. Wes didn’t need to say it, but Shane knew it was because his stalker knew where he was. Another thin, rectangular yellow packet slid into Shane’s line of sight. He looked up and met Sonia’s gaze. Her brown eyes were soft and understanding. It would be weird not talking to or seeing her every day.

He nodded in thanks. His thoughts settling as he chewed but kept jumping back to Wes’s powerful arms wrapped around him and Wes’s soothing rumbling voice assuring that he had him, that everything was going to be okay.

He glanced over at Wes, whose face was blank, but something heated flashed in his eyes and Shane sighed. Everything would not be okay.