Vic’s foul mood followed him home. As he unlocked the front door, he could sense Matt’s sleeping presence in the bedroom; sure enough, the only light inside their apartment spilled out into the hallway from the lamp Matt had left on by Vic’s side of the bed. His lover lay curled in the bed sheets, a paperback forgotten beside him, one hand marking his place. The glasses he wore to read were pushed up off his face at a rakish angle. His pink lips were parted in sleep.
Whatever anger Vic still harbored against the rest of the world drained away when he looked at Matt. The man was an angel fallen to earth, captured in perfect flesh. Too beautiful to be real, yet here he lay in Vic’s bed, living, breathing, dreaming beside him. Vic felt his chest swell with pride—this man was his. To hold, t
