IT WASN’T easy to get into a cemetery in Manchester undetected at midnight. There were lights everywhere and cop cars patrolling the streets that bordered the low walls, on the lookout for vandals. But Matthew and Alejandro were teenagers living in one of the low-rent neighborhoods of the city. They were used to being regarded with suspicion, especially at night. And they were experts at dodging patrol cars.
Abuela had sent them on this mission. “Someone, a long time ago, bound this spirit to the book. Maybe to guard it—to keep fools like you two from messing with it. The spirit was a dead man with a troubled conscience. A criminal. Maybe a murderer. I lured it into the bottle, but now you must finish the job. Take it to the cemetery and bury it. And give the spirit some peace.”
Matthew didn’t really care much for giving the spirit some “peace.” As far as he was concerned, the spirit could damn well suffer for what it did to Spartacus. But if this would get the goddamned thing out of his life forever, he’d go along with it.
They’d gone to the Elliot at River’s Edge, the new urgent care center, to get Alejandro’s arm seen to that afternoon. He wasn’t going to die, but he’d definitely have some scars. The doctor had forced him to take a rabies shot, since Alejandro couldn’t exactly tell her he knew the dog that’d bitten him wasn’t infected. Matthew knew he wouldn’t go back for the remaining four she wanted to give him.
He was still in pain, so Matthew had to do most of the work that night, digging the hole with a garden trowel. It wasn’t actually in somebody’s grave, but at the base of a tree, and Abuela had insisted it be three feet deep. The bottle was still corked, of course, and she’d threatened to kill both boys with her bare hands if they let the cork slip out. Matthew placed the bottle in the hole and buried it while Alejandro kept lookout.
When it was done, Alejandro recited some prayers his grandmother had taught him and placed a coin on the makeshift grave for the watcher of the cemetery, payment to keep the spirit there.
On their way out, a patrol car drove by, forcing them to duck down behind the stone wall at the boundary of the cemetery. While they were crouched, their heads close together, Alejandro whispered, “I’m sorry.”
“You already said that. About ten times.”
“I’ll never be able to say it enough.”
“Oh, stop it,” Matthew said, reaching one hand up to cup behind Alejandro’s neck. The affectionate gesture wasn’t something Matthew would normally have done, but the past twenty-four hours seemed to have changed the boundaries a bit. “I shouldn’t have left the package on the bed for Spartacus to tear apart. If it had just been a rare book, I’d be the one apologizing.”
He moved to take his hand away, but Alejandro reached up to hold his wrist. Their faces were incredibly close together, and in the moonlight, Matthew could see the pain in his friend’s eyes. Alejandro wasn’t able to accept forgiveness this way—not through mere words. So Matthew leaned forward and forgave him with a kiss.
He would never have done it if he’d allowed a moment’s thought before acting. There were a million reasons why kissing Alejandro could be the worst idea ever. A surge of panic rose up in him, and he tried to pull back, but it was too late. Alejandro enveloped him in his arms and practically devoured his mouth. The feeling of panic gave way to shock, and then slowly, tentatively, to joy. The feel of Alejandro’s lips was softer than Matthew had imagined they would be, and so wonderfully warm. With their faces pressed together, the familiar scent of Alejandro’s skin—musky, and smelling faintly of Ivory soap and the inescapable spice of Florida Water—overwhelmed him and filled him with a sense of coming home.
There was an odd light, somehow growing brighter, until Matthew realized someone was shining a flashlight down at them. A man’s voice said gruffly, “All right, you two. Get up here where I can see you. I hope, for your sake, you’ve got pants on.”
Shit.
They broke the clinch and stood awkwardly, blinking into the flashlight. The policeman was standing on the other side of the wall. If they’d really wanted, they probably could have made a break for it into the cemetery. It would have taken him a few seconds to get over the wall and come after them. They’d probably have been able to outrun him.
But when he said, “Come out here onto the sidewalk,” they obeyed. The wall was only waist high, so it wasn’t hard to just climb over it. The policeman turned the flashlight off once they were on the sidewalk in front of him, and Matthew could see that he was young—probably in his twenties. He didn’t look threatening. More amused.
“Okay, I know doing it in a cemetery is a turn-on for some people, but it’s public property. It’s also locked up after dark, so you shouldn’t be in there anyway.”
“We weren’t ‘doing it,’” Alejandro said sullenly.
He had a tendency to mouth off to cops, teachers, anyone in authority—except for Abuela—and Matthew was afraid he’d get them into even more trouble than they were already in. But the policeman just nodded, as if conceding the point.
“Tell you what,” he said. “If you promise to find someplace where you’re not trespassing before you get back to whatever you were doing… we’ll just call it good.”
Alejandro looked like he was about to say something unpleasant, so Matthew jumped in. “Sure. Okay.”
“All right,” the policeman said, smiling and turning away. He didn’t even bother asking their names. “You two have a nice night.”
ALEJANDRO FUMED the entire walk home. The best moment of his entire life! Ruined by a cop! Figures. Gradually, though, it dawned on him that Matthew was still there, walking beside him. Maybe the best moment of his life wasn’t entirely ruined.
“So…,” he said, not sure if talking about it was a good idea. But he kind of had to. “Do you want to be my boyfriend now?”
“I guess so.”
Alejandro stopped walking, unsure whether to feel elated or crushed. “You don’t sound very enthusiastic.”
Matthew turned back to him. They were in the shadows between streetlights, so it was hard to see his face. “We’ve been best friends for so long, it feels like my entire life. And I’ve been in love with you for just as long. You have no idea how desperate I’ve been to tell you I love you—”
“I think I know.”
Matthew stopped for a second, as if he had to absorb that. Then he continued. “What if it all falls apart now? What if we break up and can’t stand the sight of each other? I don’t know if I could deal with not having you around anymore.”
Alejandro stepped forward and put his hands on Matthew’s waist, feeling the heat of his skin through the thin T-shirt he was wearing. “I’m scared of that too. But I know I love you—”
“I love you!”
“—and right now it’s feeling like a good thing.”
Matthew leaned closer until their foreheads bumped together and Alejandro could feel his soft breath on his face. “Yeah.”
MATTHEW’S MOTHER had come back to the apartment earlier in the evening, after she’d gotten off work. She’d immediately insisted upon opening all the windows, saying, “What on earth happened while I was gone? It smells like a whorehouse in here! And were you smoking?”
Matthew had told her Abuela had come over and smoked a cigar, which killed any further discussion about it. Nobody told Abuela she couldn’t smoke a cigar, if she wanted to.
Now, as the boys let themselves into the apartment, everything was quiet. Mrs. Shaw had long ago gone to bed. Of course, the moment he noticed the door opening, Spartacus launched himself at Matthew.
Spartacus was still a bit worn out from his ordeal, so rather than a full-on assault, Matthew merely had to deal with being circled and licked to death. Alejandro received the same treatment, and both boys ended up on the floor for a few minutes, nuzzling the beast. Matthew had cleaned him up that afternoon, so Spartacus was more or less back to normal now.
He would have nothing of being locked out of the bedroom, however, so Matthew had no choice but to let him in. Spartacus immediately jumped on the bed and curled up in his usual position at the foot of it.
“So much for a night of hot sex,” Matthew muttered as he closed the door behind him.
Alejandro stood by the bed as he slipped out of his shirt, revealing the same lean, muscular chest Matthew had seen a million times before… though somehow it seemed much, much sexier now. “I suppose we can wait on that,” he said, laughing. “As long as I get to hold you tonight.”
Matthew approached him and ran a hand down his sternum, following the faint trail of dark hair that started there, down over the contours of his taut abdomen to hook his fingers into the waistband of his jeans. “Naked?”
Alejandro growled quietly, a low, lustful sound that made Matthew’s cock swell. “Naked would be good.”