Page 125 of Be Still My Unbeating Heart

And he loved getting to know Enzo. Enzo, it turned out, was an expert prankster. He had served De Luca an espresso that was revealed to be gravy, and he had cut his finger while chopping bell peppers for dinner, but the blood turned out to just be ketchup. He was a terrible dancer, but he couldsing. De Luca got out his guitar, and they sang Aerosmith, George Michael, and Talking Heads—while Bastian danced, of course.

Enzo had been fine. Completely and utterly fine.

Then suddenly he wasn’t.

A week ago, they had been about to eat dinner when he collapsed in De Luca’s kitchen. By the time the doctor arrived, he was gone.

Bastian felt like he should have asked. So that the option was there. But he got the feeling that Enzo didn’t want to be turned. He’d had enough blood drama to last him a lifetime, and he didn’t need any more. De Luca didn’t bring it up, either, which was how Bastian knew it wasn’t even a question. Enzo didn’t want to be a vampire, and Bastian had to respect that.

“I had no idea Arianna was capable of something so monstrous,” De Luca said, frowning at the bedspread, as if searching his memory for some clue that could have exposed Arianna before she’d had the chance to kill.

Bastian took his hand, linking their fingers. “I think that’s the secret, dear. There’s no such thing as monsters; there’s just people and the choices they make. What Arianna did was terrible, but youshouldn’t feel guilty for savoring the time her actions bought you. That wasn’t your doing.”

De Luca’s mouth tightened. “It feels like there’s never enough time.”

“No, there isn’t. Which is why it’s so valuable.”

He felt De Luca shudder, and then De Luca’s head pressed into Bastian’s shoulder, and he realized he was crying. Fat, silent tears slid down his cheeks, and Bastian didn’t even stop to think about what he was doing as he took De Luca’s head in his hands and kissed the tears away. He smiled through his own tears as De Luca lay down and pulled Bastian’s arms around him. As they lay there, Bastian pressed his mouth into De Luca’s neck, soothing his hair and whispering into his skin.

He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, but they eventually heard people leaving. Good-byes rang out below their feet as the house emptied, and then it was just Bastian and De Luca, Whitby somewhere below, the light turning orange outside the window, the room becoming soft and dreamlike.

Bastian uncurled from De Luca as he pushed himself upright.

“Are they gone?” he asked.

“They’re gone,” Bastian said, propped up on his elbow, listening for any signs of movement downstairs.

De Luca stood and went to the stereo, flicking it on. Bastian couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face as Kate Bush came through the speakers. De Luca held out his hand and Bastian slid from the bed, allowing himself to be pulled into De Luca’s arms. They danced a slow waltz around the bedroom as “Cloudbusting” played.

“I love this song,” Bastian said.

“I know.”

Bastian gave him a quizzical look, and De Luca smiled.

“It was playing that morning, in your kitchen, right after youwere put under house arrest. You were cooking salmon for Whitby and prancing about in that tiny banana-print robe.”

“I like dancing,” Bastian said.

“You were trying to seduce me.”

Bastian opened his mouth to protest, then laughed.

“You changed everything,” De Luca said, his eyes sparkling, so intense that Bastian couldn’t look away. He’d happily spend the rest of eternity looking into those eyes.

“Me, dear?”

“I was a different person when we met,” De Luca said. “Vernazza was a different place. I can’t remember what it was like before you. Who I was.”

Bastian’s brow creased in an exaggerated thinking face. “Grumpy. A little rude. And so unbearably tense, just looking at you caused my blood pressure to rise.”

“And you were spontaneous to the point of self-destruction.”

Bastian smiled. “It all worked out okay in the end.”

They were pressed so close; Bastian could feel every contour of De Luca’s body. He loved the way the music moved them, every step and turn in sync.

The song changed. Bronski Beat, “Smalltown Boy.” Bastian closed his eyes in bliss. De Luca had hummed this song outside the gelateria, surprising Bastian for the first time with his depth and complexity. Was that the moment he knew he liked De Luca? Or was it the moment he noticed those long lashes? The sweat on De Luca’s upper lip? His charming nervousness about being around a vampire?