What Hides Inside: Bay City Paranormal Investigations, Book 2

wasn’t exactly what Sam wanted to hear. He barked a humorless laugh. “I thought you were going to tell me there was no way he’d turn me down, that he’d run to me with open arms and we’d live happily ever after.”
The corner of Dean’s mouth hitched up in a wry half-smile. “I’m a cheerleader here, not a shameless liar.”
Something about Dean’s willingness to acknowledge the chance of failure made Sam feel better. “So do some more cheerleading. Tell me I can do this.”
“You really can do it.” Dropping his gaze, Dean stared pensively at his fingers and Sam’s wound together. “It’s a hard thing to do, going after what you want. Who you want. But if you don’t try, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”
Sam gave Dean a sharp look. Deep sadness shadowed Dean’s face, making him look young and vulnerable. Pulling a hand loose from Dean’s grip, Sam cupped his cheek, stroking a thumb across his plump lower lip. Dean raised his head, mournful gaze meeting Sam’s.
“Why do I get the feeling you gained this impressive wisdom through experience?” Sam asked.
“Like I’ve said before, you’re smart.” Turning his head, Dean pressed a kiss to the center of Sam’s palm. “It was six years ago. My girlfriend left me because I was bi. I wasn’t cheating on her or anything. She just couldn’t handle knowing I’d slept with guys before.”
Sam couldn’t help feeling angry at the woman, even though he’d never known her and never would. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but maybe you were better off without her, if she was that…well, that bigoted, to be frank.”
“Maybe. Probably.” Dean fell silent for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was soft and sad. “But I loved her, Sam. I loved her, and I let her go. I didn’t fight for her. And every single day since, I’ve wondered what would’ve happened if I had.”
Sam had no idea what to say. Wanting to take the sorrow out of Dean’s eyes and not knowing how, Sam reached out and pulled Dean into his arms. Dean straddled Sam’s lap, arms and legs wrapping around him, and laid his head on Sam’s shoulder.
“I’m supposed to be comforting you,” Dean mumbled, nuzzling Sam’s throat. “Didn’t mean to lay all my old baggage on you.”
“Hey, you can come to me any time you need someone to talk to.” Sam ran his hands in long, soothing strokes down Dean’s back. “You helped me a lot tonight. I want to be there for you when you need help.”
“Thank you.” Raising his head, Dean gave Sam a hopeful look. “So, I helped you, did I?”
“Yeah.”
“Does this mean you’ll try to get Bo back?” Sam swallowed. “Yes. You’re right, I have to try.”
“Good.” Dean cradled Sam’s face in his hands. “I should probably go.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I know. And I appreciate that. But I should.”
Disengaging himself from Sam’s embrace, Dean slid off the bed and began retrieving his clothes from the floor. Sam did the same, watching Dean out of the corner of his eye.
“I’ll drive you home,” Sam offered once they were both dressed.
“That’d be great, thanks.”
“It’s the least I can do.”
Crossing his arms over his stomach, Dean gave him a stern look. “Promise me you’re not gonna angst over this, Sam.”
“What, this crazy plan to get back the man I love, or the fact that I used you like a piece of meat?”
Dean shook his head. “You’re angsting.”
“It’s hard not to.”
Dean raised an eyebrow, and Sam laughed in spite of himself. “All right, I won’t angst.”
“That’s my boy.” Snatching his jacket off the chair where it had landed, Dean shrugged it on. He shoved Sam’s jacket at him, grabbed Sam’s wrist and tugged him toward the door.
Moved by a sudden surge of affection, Sam swept Dean into his arms and kissed his forehead. “You’re a terrific guy, Dean. And a real hellcat in bed. I’m sorry we’re not going to be any more than friends.”
“Don’t apologize to me. The last thing I need is a boyfriend cramping my style.” Dean smacked Sam’s butt and broke the embrace. “Now c’mon, get me home before I turn into a pumpkin.”
Chuckling, Sam pulled his jacket on, made sure his wallet and keys were still in the pocket and followed Dean out the door.
    Sam spent a sleepless night staring at his bedroom ceiling, inventing and discarding one scenario after another of what to say to Bo. A bald declaration of his intentions would only put Bo on the defensive,