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“No.” When we were together, I couldn’t seem to not look at him. Right now, his eyes searching my face seemed to be the most important place in the world.

He cupped my face and leaned his forehead in, until I had to close my eyes. We’d both been pretty tired when we’d gotten in the night before. I remembered thinking for a moment that our “coming down” noises weren’t similar at all to Vinnie’s and mine. For one thing, Noah kept up sort of a constant grumble to himself, and when he wasn’t doing that, he was giving me directions.

“Hang your suit up, Con. It’ll take another wear,” or “I like the cuff links. Do you have a place to keep them?”

There was none of the bitch and dish that Vinnie and I used to do—but then, Noah was too decent a person to bitch
or
dish.

When we’d slid into bed, both of us in our boxers, another difference made itself known. Vinnie and I used to kiss and then roll over to our own dents in the mattress.

Noah dragged me up against him in a power spoon.

I’d had just enough consciousness to think I liked this way, when I’d fallen asleep.

Now, waking up and feeling Noah’s solid warmth
breathing
itself into me, I wasn’t sure I could imagine waking up without him.

“You ready for the next two days?” he asked.
Jupiter Seven
today,
Wolf’s Landing
tomorrow. Both panels were followed by an extensive cast signing, but I was looking forward to it.

“Raring to go,” I promised him.

“I won’t leave your side.”

He had no idea—
none—
what that meant.

He did it, too—both days, bringing water, working with security, making sure I stayed with my group as they hustled us from the interview room to the panel room to the signature room. There was the occasional hand on my back, and definite manhandling of my shoulders when I, say, turned to talk to the seven-year-old wearing my costume from
Jupiter Seven
and stepped out of line, but for the most part he kept the public touches chaste.

He was there to direct me and meet my needs, and although I’d had assistants before—PAs, usually hired by Jilly—I can’t remember ever feeling as though my world was quite as clockwork as it was with Noah. His job description might not have said “bodyguard” but then, Viv’s didn’t say “handler” either—but that’s what they both did.

And because I was so secure, I managed some real magic on the panels.

“So, Connor, you’re on a panel for
Jupiter Seven
and one for
Wolf’s Landing
. Which would you say is your favorite?”

“Sci-fi,” I replied pertly. “I think sci-fi is my definite favorite.”

“So, Connor Montgomery, do you think there’s something in the water at Bluewater Bay that is making all the stars come out?”

“I dunno, the water’s pretty clear. Maybe you can see our reflections better?”

There was general laughter, and then the interviewer followed up.

“Out of the closet, Mr. Montgomery.”

This was the second day, and I looked back at the
Wolf’s Landing
panel. Levi was looking sardonic, as usual, Marianna was gracious, of course, but Carter was leaning forward, almost eagerly, waiting to hear what I’d say.

Well, hell. They’d tried to be kind to me, right?

“I think the cast and crew—right down to the makeup and wardrobe people and the gaffers and set dressers—have all worked to create a really supportive, creative atmosphere,” I said truthfully. “When you’re working in a place where you’re comfortable, where you’re not afraid of the repercussions of being yourself, it’s amazing what can happen on set.”

Carter lit up then, his beautiful, boyish features practically shining, like this was the thing he’d been waiting for another actor to say all along.

“And with that,” he broke in, “how would you all like to see Connor Montgomery killing it in a place where he feels comfortable?”

The applause was heartwarming, and to my surprise, the clip they ran was of me yelling at Brenda and Lissa.

As my voice cracked on-screen, and the real anguish sat my shoulders and rode my expression, a shiver ran up my spine, one that exploded into my chest as the clip ended.

And then there was that silence—that
true
silence, the one that said everybody was so stunned and happy, they were going to let that performance sit for a minute before they reacted.

When they reacted, the applause was thunderous. I leaned back and spoke quietly to Carter. “That was nice. Why not a clip of you and Levi?”

“’Cause Levi and I are a lock,” he said quietly.

“I signed the papers!” I laughed.

“Yeah, but you don’t understand, Connor. We
want
you to stay.”

“I want to stay too,” I said, warmed. The applause continued, and I looked up at Noah, who didn’t seem to hold it against me one bit that the big noise was something that fed my soul.

That night he dragged me away from a backstage party in Carter and Levi’s hotel suite. It wasn’t one of those out-of-control things that always got embarrassing, but most of the cast and crew of
Wolf’s Landing
who had made it to Comic-Con were there, and yeah—my wineglass was always full.

But it was a happy party—it was like leaving home and finding out that all your favorite neighbors were coming to wherever you were going, and that was
great
. We hung out and talked shop and talked about how the
Supernatural
fans were terrifying and how
Jupiter Seven
had been a fun set and how sad it was that Gina’s series looked so shitty because it had such promise, but nobody wanted to work with the producers. It was the dish and bitch I used to do with Vinnie, but a little bigger, and Noah didn’t seem to mind standing at my elbow and saying quiet, sarcastic things in my ear as the conversation waxed on.

At one point—after my third glass of wine, I thought,
Geez, Vinnie, this is fun. I wish I’d gotten to do this with the folks at
Warlock Tea
.

Yeah, Con. I regret doing that to you. You deserved to enjoy your work.

I turned to Noah and smiled. “You’re right. Doing this with
Warlock Tea
would have been fun.”

Noah turned from a conversation with Levi. “Baby, I didn’t say anything about
Warlock Tea
.”

I blinked at him slowly. Oh God. Where had that come from?

“Too much wine,” I said, trying to be winsome.

He took the glass out of my hand and regarded me with completely sober eyes. “We’re going home.”

I nodded, and let him seize my hand and pull me out of there. He wasn’t rude, really, but I don’t remember having to extricate myself from any social situations. He just looked at people, his brows faintly knit, and they smiled and said, “Bye, Connor! Bye, Noah! See you later!”

It was like a superpower.

We drove home in silence until I asked Cliff if he could open the moonroof. For a moment, the air on my face felt good, especially because we were still on the stretch of Five near the ocean, but then . . .

“Damn.”

“Damn what?” Noah had sprawled his legs over the backseat, wedged his ass in the corner, and pulled me into his arms. I was leaning against his chest and staring up at the sky.

“No stars.”

“LA.” As in,
Duh, what did you expect?

“Yeah, but San Diego’s different. I expect stars in this stretch.”

He sighed and dug his chin into my shoulder. “Maybe you just miss home.”

Home. As in Washington.

“Yes.” I closed my eyes. “The sea smells better there.”

“More trees.”

“Mmm . . . You hated trees, Vinnie.”

I didn’t hate them, per se—

“He did?” Noah asked cautiously.

“Yeah, he was afraid of getting lost in them. He grew up in Nebransas, right?”

“Like, the Midwest?”

“Yeah. I could never remember the state. Sorry about that, Vinnie.”

I tried damned hard to forget, Con.

Behind me, Noah’s breathing got very, very still. “Uh, Connor?”

“Yeah, Noah?”

“Why is Vinnie suddenly here with us?”

“Can’t you feel him? He’s everywhere down here.”

No, mostly I’m just in my house.

“Goddamn you two,” Noah muttered.

“Why?” I tried to turn to look at him, but I was too tired and too tipsy. “What’d we do?”

“That fucking house, man, the fucking silence. You have like . . . an
iceberg
of damage in you, and you keep trying to think it’s all fine, but I keep wrecking myself on bigger and bigger pieces.”

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, the pleasant buzz of the day doused in ice water. “I think today went really well.”

“Right up until you had a conversation with Vinnie in the middle of a party, baby.”

I grimaced. “How did you know I was doing that?”

He sighed and tightened his arm around my chest. “I always know,” he said bleakly. “I just fucking do.”

I whimpered. Oh God. Oh God—

“How often am I talking to him?” I didn’t even want to know. It was one thing if your madness was trapped in your own goddamned head but to have Noah realize the extent of it?

“Since you came out? All the fucking time.”

My brain swelled. Or it felt like it swelled. Or it exploded. It definitely exploded.

“I . . . I have no . . . I didn’t realize—”

“Why do you think I’ve been so worried?” he burst out. “Because you’re all smooth on the outside, and you’re all, ‘Fine, Noah, fucking fine!’ and then you get that look and you have your little conversation, and then you just go on with your day.”

Vinnie, am I that bad?

“You’re doing it again!”
You’re doing it again!

“Oh Jesus,” I said, shaking. “Stereo. I heard you both in stereo.”

“And then, when it’s you and me together, you’re . . . you’re so driven. You just
need
so badly. And it finally hit me the other night. It hit me that you needed me because there’s no Vinnie in the room when we’re together. Which on the one hand is really flattering, right? But on the other hand is fucking terrifying! Con, what does it take to have you to myself when we’re
not
naked?”

“I don’t know,” I whispered. “I don’t—I don’t even know when I’m doing it. I just . . . I forget, you know? It was okay when everybody didn’t know all of it, but now that so many people know parts of it I’m just . . . I can’t keep track of the pieces.” I sat forward, panicked. “I can’t keep track of the pieces. Noah, what if they all come apart?”

Oh hell.

“What if I lose you?” I turned and looked at him, almost in tears. “What if I lose you? What if it becomes all the Vinnie and none of the Noah? He’s
dead
, Noah—I need the live person! I’m not so stupid I don’t know that—I need the
real person
. You love me! I can’t lose that!”

I was shaking so hard my teeth were chattering, and he wrapped his arms around my shoulders and held on tight.

“Shh . . .” he murmured in my ear. “It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay. You can’t lose me. You can’t. I’m stuck to you. I’m unshakeable.”

“You don’t understand,” I mumbled.
He doesn’t understand, Vinnie.

I do. You did everything right.

“I did everything right,” I told Noah desperately. “Everything. And I lost him. And I’m not doing anything right with you. Nothing. I should be . . .”

You know how to take care of people, Con. Remember?

“I should take care of you,” I mumbled. “I should take care of you. Because I’ll lose you.”

My mind went blank, then numb with horror, overwhelmed. I
should
be the caretaker. I had been with Vinnie—but now I was lost, trapped, crippled by memories of Vinnie and clinging to the real with Noah. How could I be another person? How could I be “out-Connor” and “in-Connor” and “Vinnie’s Connor” and “Noah’s Connor” and
Slade fucking Lupin
or whoever else showed up in a script on my desk?

Noah’s hand over my mouth barely brought me back to myself as I breathed in heated recycled air, and the oxygen stopped rushing my brain.