Closer: Bay City Paranormal Investigation, Book 4

inner voice murmured. He’s stubborn and irritating sometimes, but he’s never been like this before. It all started with Fort Medina. He can’t be hooked on pain pills. He just can’t. There’s no way he could hide it from me this long.
Of course Sam’s certainty proved nothing. He was no expert on drug addiction, but he knew Dean was right. A person could be hooked and no one ever suspect. He’d seen it from time to time in his previous job. Working in a hospital, even in computer support, you heard stories. Saw things. If a hospital vice president could successfully hide his narcotic habit from his wife, his children and coworkers, who was to say Bo couldn’t do the same? Sam still didn’t quite believe it, but Dean was right. They couldn’t afford to ignore the possibility.
Yawning, Sam rubbed a hand across his face. In spite of everything that had happened that night—or maybe because of it—he could barely keep his eyes open.
    I’ll talk to Dean some more later, he promised himself, stretching out on the sofa. Maybe his friend would have some idea where to start looking for more clues, and how on earth to confront Bo if they needed to. The very idea made Sam shudder.
    “God, I hope we don’t have to do that,” Sam mumbled, his eyes drifting shut. Sheer exhaustion sucked him in, and he slept.
Chapter Eleven
    Toward morning, Sam dreamed again. Another nightmare of frigid, crushing blackness, alive with a sense of intelligent menace. He woke damp and shaking in the gray predawn light. Sitting up, he turned on the lamp beside the couch to banish the darkness. It was too easy to see things in the shadows.
    He was in the kitchen making coffee when he heard the shuffle of bare feet behind him. Before he could turn, arms slid around his waist and soft lips brushed the back of his neck.
    He laid his hand over Bo’s where it pressed to his belly. This was Bo’s “apology” posture. He’d seen it countless times, and it was usually followed by them making up from whatever their latest fight had been. But after what had happened the night before, Sam had no clue what to say. Especially in light of Dean’s suspicions regarding Bo’s behavior.
    “I was way out of line last night,” Bo said after a few moments of awkward silence. His voice was raspy and tremulous. “Can you ever forgive me?”
    Sam swallowed, his throat constricting. “Have I really been that insensitive to you all this time?” He almost laughed at himself for being most interested in the answer to that question when there were other, more important things he should be asking.
    Bo only hesitated a few seconds, but it was enough to give Sam his answer. He groaned, dropping his head into his hands. “Shit. I’m sorry.”
    Bo’s arms tightened around him. “You dismissed my fears for you, that’s true. And you didn’t listen to me about at least trying to get on anticonvulsants to see if they’d keep your mind from connecting to the portals and those things on the other side. But I understand why you don’t want to do that. I really do. It makes sense for you to keep your connection to the portals, even if I don’t like it. Everyone’s safer that way, in the end. I never should’ve said those things to you last night.”
    It was true, so Sam didn’t bother to argue. Turning in Bo’s embrace, Sam stared into his eyes. They were swollen and bloodshot. “You didn’t sleep.”
    “Not really, no.” The ghost of a smile touched Bo’s lips. “It took me a while to realize exactly how horrible I’d been to you. You were asleep when I came down to apologize, and I didn’t want to wake you. Then the others came back, and I just…just couldn’t face them.”
    It was on the tip of Sam’s tongue to ask Bo if he had any pain pills stashed away upstairs. If he’d been taking them on the sly all this time. But he couldn’t do it. Not right now, with Bo standing there red-eyed and clearly exhausted, apologizing to him. This was the Bo he’d fallen in love with, and he didn’t want to do anything to drive him away and bring back the sneering, hurtful person from the night before.
    He didn’t even consider asking if Bo really enjoyed the sort of violent sex they’d had last night. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
    Cupping Bo’s face in his hands, Sam pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. “I’ll forgive you, if you’ll forgive me.”
    Bo laughed. “Deal.” He dropped his hands to Sam’s ass and squeezed as Sam