Chapter 7

Jay moved without further thought, pressing his lips against Nick’s. His mouth was cold and warm, sweet and bitter. He cupped the back of Nick’s head, holding him in place as he moved his lips. 2

Nick was warm.

Cozily so. Like curled up on the couch in his favorite comforter with the lights down and The Gunfighterflickering on his widescreen warm.

A few moments after he realized how warm he was, the first pain stabbed through his left eyeball.

“Oh, God,” he groaned.