Death Becomes Him - 23

“Another question. Are you stuck here?” Trent asked.

“Meaning?”

“I guess, are you here because you want to be, or because you have to be?”

Rory shrugged. “I’m not being held against my will. I like it here. I’d like it better back in New Orleans but too many people might wonder where I’d gone off to and why it took so long to come back. Besides which, even if I went back, could I come up with a good excuse for why I never do anything during the day? And in a few more years it’s going to be pretty obvious I’m not getting any older.”

“So then we move somewhere else.”

Rory looked at Trent in surprise. “We?”

“Just a thought.” He smiled, stroking Rory’s shoulder with his thumb. “I could make you the night manager at the hotel. That way you’d have an excuse to sleep in during the day.”

“Like I know anything about that. Besides which, if I was going to work nights I’d start up my tour company again. That is something I know how to do.”

“Good point. Do you sleep all day, or just stay inside where there’s no sunlight?”

“I sleep a lot during the day, like ten hours, but Emily says that will change as time goes on. And not, in case you were wondering, on my native soil in a coffin.”

Trent clutched his chest. “Another myth blow to pieces. Next you’ll be telling me you don’t have to hunt… Okay, never mind that. You already said you use bagged blood. You’d have to find out where the local vampire blood bank is.”

Rory grinned. “In Jacques St. Germaine’s house.”

“You’re kidding!”

“Yeah, I am.” He pulled away to look at Trent. “You’re serious about my coming back with you, aren’t you?”

“I think so. Yeah I know, that’s probably not the most definitive answer, but we could make it work, if we both were willing to try. It’s would take my getting used to the idea that there are a lot of things we can’t do that we did before. But hell, I’m not doing them now. I really haven’t since the first time you vanished.”

“That’s stupid.”

“That’s me and you know it. I never was the ‘let’s go out and paint the town red’ type of guy. You’re the one who pushed me into doing things. When you disappeared”—Trent shrugged—“I had no reason to.”

“Four, almost five years, of spending your days busting your ass then going home to an empty house…”

“Not empty,” Trent put in. “I have Beau.”

Rory chuckled. “Somehow I don’t see you taking him to a club, or a movie, or even out to dinner.”

“True. He’s a lousy dancer.” Trent grinned, then sobered. “I miss the fun we had, the life we were starting to put together for ourselves. I want that again.” He cupped Rory’s face with his hands so that he could kiss him. “I want you again.”

“Are you sure?” Rory’s gaze seemed to search for some confirmation that Trent truly meant what he’d said. “It wouldn’t be easy.”

Trent smiled. “I think we’ve already established that. Hell, we made it through high school despite the fact we’re gay and had to hide our feelings for each other from everyone we knew there. I think we’re old enough, and smart enough, to pull this off if we want to.”

“Perhaps you’re right.”

“You sound as if you’re not certain.”