...On the way to the Glenn Forest apartments that afternoon, Robbie convinced himself once again that whatever was going on wasn’t Aaron’s ghost. Ghosts, spirits, whatever, didn’t share bodies with living beings. And the reason was there wasn’t any such thing. Likely Curtis Macintyre was a nut job.

He hadn’t gone straight over there after his last hair appointment. He’d first gone home to check the Internet and find everything he could on Curtis Macintyre. There didn’t seem to be any indication the guy was in the middle of a breakdown. And according to the picture on the man’s website, the guy he’d had lunch with really was the famous horror writer.

Robbie considered the possibility this was tied into Macintyre’s latest novel he might be working on. Maybe he wanted to write a ghost possession story. Maybe he’d even rented that apartment, Aaron’s old one, with that in mind. It was cruel to use Aaron’s murder and Robbie’s love for Aaron, but it had been Robbie’s experience lots of people were cruel. No reason a famous writer would be any different.

After arming himself with two fresh containers of pepper spray tucked into his bag, Robbie left his apartment and headed to the Glenn Forest apartments. Of course, he first left a message with his friend, Iggy, as to exactly where he’d be. Just in case. With a nut job you couldn’t be too careful.

Robbie parked, ignored the old elevator cage, probably original to the building, and walked up the stairs to Aaron’s old apartment. Blowing out a breath, he rapped on the door.

The door opened within seconds, like Curtis waited on the other side.

“Robbie.”

And suddenly he was pulled into strong, muscular arms and squeezed tight. He closed his eyes as the familiar scent of Aaron washed over him. It was mixed with Macintyre’s, but there was no mistaking Aaron’s spicy cologne, the scent of his skin, the feel of his arms. It was like five years ago, before the murder.

Robbie’s arms wrapped around the other man, unable to resist the pull of Aaron. Time disappeared. He leaned his head on those broad shoulders and closed his eyes. A hand tilted his head a little to expose his throat and lips trailed over his pulse there. Robbie gasped, his cock hardening with a will of its own. This couldn’t be real, yet he was lost, powerless to stop his body’s response, his mind’s response.

Hands were everywhere, caressing his arms, his chest, lowering to grab his ass. Robbie moaned, his own hands moving over the solid body holding him. Lips took possession of his. Robbie moaned and opened his mouth, allowing the intrusion of a warm tongue.

He should not be practically crawling up the body of a stranger, although it wouldn’t be the first time he had casual sex after just meeting someone. But this wasn’t the same in any way. And Robbie didn’t know how he should be acting.