ALMOST.
---
Chapter 62 – Almost.
Vincent refused to look at Zane.
Not because he didn't want to.
But because if he did—
He wasn't sure what would happen.
The way Zane had touched him. The way his fingers had lingered, his voice had dropped, his breath had hitched—
It wasn't nothing.
And that was the problem.
Because Vincent wasn't supposed to want this.
Wasn't supposed to need him like this.
But now?
Now, every second of silence felt like a dare.
Cain shot them both a look as they stepped into the hallway. "You two good?"
"Fine," Vincent said, too quickly.
Zane exhaled, low and amused. "Yeah. Fine."
Liar.
Cain didn't buy it, but he had better things to do than call them out. "Lancaster's men are close," he said instead. "We need to move—now."
Vincent nodded, focusing on anything but the heat still lingering in his chest.
Zane fell into step beside him. Too close.
Vincent ignored the way their shoulders almost brushed.
Ignored the way his body reacted to it.
They reached the lower floor of the hideout, the shadows thick around them. Cain slipped ahead, scouting the path forward.
Vincent and Zane lagged behind.
Too much space between them.
Too much weight in the air.
Finally—
"You gonna pretend that didn't happen?" Zane's voice was quiet. Sharp.
Vincent kept his gaze forward. "Nothing did happen."
Zane let out a low, bitter laugh. "Right. Of course."
Vincent's jaw clenched.
Zane stopped walking. "Vincent."
Vincent should have kept moving.
Should have ignored him.
But he didn't.
Because the way Zane said his name—
Low. Unsteady.
Like he was barely holding on—
It made something inside Vincent break.
He turned.
Zane was watching him. Waiting.
Vincent exhaled. "We don't have time for this."
"Bullshit," Zane said. "You just don't want to deal with it."
Vincent's fingers twitched. "There's nothing to deal with."
Zane's lips parted.
Then—
Footsteps.
Close.
Too close.
Vincent's instincts snapped.
He grabbed Zane, pulling him into the nearest shadowed corner. Pressed him flat against the wall.
Zane inhaled sharply—more in surprise than anything else.
Vincent's body was too close to his.
Zane's heartbeat was too fast.
Vincent could feel it.
The footsteps passed.
But Vincent didn't move.
Couldn't.
Because Zane was looking at him like that again.
Like he knew.
Like he wasn't letting Vincent run from this anymore.
Slowly—
Zane leaned in.
Not enough to close the distance.
Just enough to dare Vincent to do it himself.
Vincent's pulse pounded.
His breath hitched.
His fingers tightened against Zane's waist.
Zane swallowed, his voice barely above a whisper. "Still think nothing happened?"
Vincent's control snapped like a thread.
He almost gave in.
Almost closed the space between them.
But—
He let go.
Stepped back.
Turned away.
And when he spoke, his voice was cold.
"We need to go."
Zane exhaled sharply.
Didn't argue.
Didn't call him a coward—
Even though Vincent was one.
He just nodded once. "Yeah."
And just like that—
The moment was gone.
But it wasn't forgotten.
---