Chapter 7
The next morning, Kade found a crisp hundred-dollar bill sitting on his register with a note underneath.
You said to do what I want. - W
Kade stared at the money, his coffee growing cold in his lidless travel mug. He'd arrived early to prep for another insane day, and Winston had somehow gotten into the shop again. The same shop Kade had double-checked the locks on before leaving last night.
Their night together flashed through his mind, making sure Winston had actually wanted him. Kade’s body reacted. He pocketed the bill and crumpled the note, tossing it in the trash. Then immediately fished it back out and smoothed it flat.
Two hours later, the first customers of the day descended like locusts, and Kade lost himself in the familiar chaos of Halloween in a costume shop. But every few minutes, his fingers traveled to his pocket, where the note was.
The next morning brought hot coffee in a new travel mug and a small paper bag sitting beside the register. Inside, Kade found beef jerky. The rest of the bag was full of Halloween candy. The exact same brands he'd shared with Winston that night.
No note this time.
Kade took a sip of the coffee. Perfect temperature, perfect amount of cream. Like Winston had watched Kade make his own coffee, but he had been gone by the time he had made coffee last year.
His chest tightened with something between anger and longing.
By the third day, Kade started noticing other changes.
Small things. The measuring tape he'd left draped over a costume rack and forgotten was coiled neatly by the register.
Empty hangers were removed from the racks and put in the back.
The dressing room curtain hung perfectly straight behind the mirror when Kade remembered giving up before getting to it the night before.
Someone was coming in after hours. Still. A year later.
Kade caught himself looking forward to discovering the next surprise, then hated himself for it. This wasn't romantic—it was stalking. Winston was breaking into his shop, going through his things, touching his work.
But when he found a bolt of expensive lace that had been constantly falling on the floor carefully wrapped in protective plastic and stored properly, he couldn't summon the anger he should have felt
On Thursday, Kade ducked into the dressing room to clean it up for a walk-in customer and froze.
Hanging from the curtain rod was a single red rose. Not the cheap kind from the grocery store—this was perfect, deep crimson with petals that looked like the velvet it lay against. Pinned to the stem was a note in Winston's now-familiar handwriting.
You said I was beautiful here. You made me believe it. -W
Kade's breath caught. His fingers traced over the words as he remembered that night—Winston changing beneath his hands, watching their reflection in the trifold mirrors, the way Winston's features had shifted with pleasure.
Kade adjusted himself before stepping out of the dressing room, holding the curtain open for the customer.
He should throw the rose away. Should call the police about the breaking and entering. Should do anything except stand behind the counter admiring a romantic gesture from the man who'd stolen from him and disappeared.
Instead, he found himself carefully placing the rose in water and setting it next the register where he would be able to see it from the whole store.
"Fuck," Kade whispered, slumping onto the counter.
Winston was dismantling his defenses piece by piece, and Kade was letting him do it.
In between little gifts, Winston would appear in the shop during busy periods, always looking different but never quite able to hide those distinctive eyes.
Sometimes he was clean-shaven and blonde, sometimes dark and scruffy.
Once, he appeared as a woman with long red hair and feminine curves, but Kade still recognized the way he moved, the careful grace that spoke of a body in constant flux.
A flustered mother asked lady Winston about sizing for her teenage daughter's last-minute costume crisis.
"The Medium should work, but grab a Large too," Winston said confidently, his voice pitched higher to match his feminine appearance but still unmistakably his cadence. "Ask Kade, but I’m sure he’ll let you return one next week."
The woman thanked him and hurried to the register with both sizes. Kade agreed to let her bring one back, be probably wouldn’t sell both in the next few hours. He rang her up, hyperaware of Winston watching from across the shop.
As soon as the woman left, Winston disappeared too, leaving Kade staring at the space where he'd been.
Halloween morning dawned gray and drizzly, perfect weather for the controlled chaos ahead. Kade had barely unlocked the door when Winston appeared with a bag from the bakery down the street.
"Breakfast," Winston said simply, setting it on the counter. This time he looked like himself—the version Kade remembered from their night together.
“Thank you,” was all Kade got out before the first group of customers burst through the door and Winston melted into the crowd.
Kade didn't see him leave, but when he looked up from helping a vampire and her zombie friend, Winston wasn’t in the store.
The bag contained croissants. They looked like the Pillsbury kind, but they were still warm. There were a verirrt of sample size spreads and a plastic knife at the bottom of the bag. Kade stuffed a plain croissant in his mouth and followed it with a sip of coffee from his new mug. It was hot.
At some point, Winston had sneakily refilled his coffee, too.
Lunch arrived the same way—a sandwich from the deli in town, exactly how he liked it, appearing on the counter during a brief lull when Kade's blood sugar was crashing.
By evening, Kade was running on fumes. His feet ached, his voice was hoarse from answering the same questions a hundred times, and he'd officially reached his limit for customer interaction.
All of Kade’s walls had been knocked down. He had hoped that he would see Winston again, but he hadn’t come in.
The last trick-or-treater finally left. Kade locked the door behind them and leaned against it, closing his eyes.
The shop was a disaster. Costumes hung askew on their racks, accessories were scattered across every surface, and the dressing room looked like a clothing bomb had gone off. It would take hours to restore order
"Rough day?"
Kade's eyes snapped open. Winston stood by the register, this time wearing dark jeans and a soft gray sweater that looked expensive. No shapeshifting disguise, no attempts to hide. Just Winston, looking tired but determined.
"We're closed," Kade said automatically, but without heat.
"I know. I brought dinner." Winston held up an insulated bag. "And I thought maybe we could talk."
Kade wanted to say no. Wanted to tell Winston to leave and take his apologies and grand gestures with him. But he was exhausted, and hungry, and so goddamn tired of being angry.
"Fine," he said. "But I'm eating first. And you're helping me clean this mess."
Winston's face lit up with the first genuine smile Kade had seen from him. "Deal."
They worked in silence at first, Winston seeming to instinctively know Kade's organizational system. He rehung costumes with the same care Kade would have used, straightened displays that had been knocked askew, and collected scattered accessories into their proper containers.
When they were about half-way done, Winston encouraged Kade to start eating while he finished. Kade let him, too hungry to argue.
"Thank you," Kade said around the last bite of the best chicken he'd ever tasted. "For the food, for the help. For all of it, actually."
Winston poked at his salad. "You don't have to thank me. I owe you more than I can ever repay."
"The money's fine, Winston. You paid me back ten times over with your help this week. Even if you were breaking and entering again." He smiled at Winston, who smiled back.
“It’s not about the money,” Winston's voice was quiet. "It's about trust. You trusted me, and I broke that. You offered me so much, and I ran."
Kade set down his fork. "Why did you run?"
Winston didn’t answer for so long Kade thought he wouldn't. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper.
"Because I'd already taken advantage of you, and I didn't know how to stop. You found me breaking into your shop. You should have called the cops, but instead you took me home. Fed me. Gave me a shower, a place to sleep. Human contact."
“Human contact, huh?”
“Okay, it was more than just contact. It was some of the best sex of my life.”
“Thank you. Continue.”
Winston smiled, but his hands trembled slightly.
"I was falling for you after one night, and I thought... if I stayed, I'd just keep taking until there was nothing left."
"You didn’t trust me to know when to stop?” Kade asked, surprised by the steadiness in his voice. “I’m a grown man. I can decide how much to give.”
"I know that now. But then? I was scared and desperate and convinced that anything good in my life was temporary." Winston looked up, meeting Kade's eyes. "I've been thinking about that night for a year. About you. About how stupid I was to leave like that."
Something tight in Kade's chest began to loosen. "Have you been living on the streets this whole time?"
"No. Not long after that night, I figured some things out. Got better at controlling the shifting, found ways to use it that weren't just survival." Winston's smile was rueful. "Turns out shapeshifting has some practical financial applications."
"Legal applications?" Kade asked.
"Some." Winston's grin was wicked. "I've got a temporary place in town now and I've been looking for legitimate work here."
The admission hung between them, heavy with possibility. Kade studied Winston's face, searching for deception but finding only hope.
"What are you trying to say, Winston?"
"I'm asking if we can try again. Start over, maybe. I know I don't deserve it, but I'd like to be friends at least. If you'll let me."
Kade considered this. A year of hurt and anger warred with the memory of how right it had felt to have Winston in his space, in his bed. How naturally they'd fit together.
And he'd be lying if he said he hadn't been daydreaming about having Winston help at the shop.
"Friends," Kade repeated slowly.
"Friends," Winston confirmed. "Though I should probably mention that I'm still just as attracted to you as I was a year ago. More, actually."
Heat flashed through Kade's system. "Winston—"
"I know, I know. Too much, too fast." Winston held up his hands. "Friends first. I just wanted to be honest."
Kade stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. Winston's face fell, clearly expecting rejection.
Instead, Kade closed the distance between them, putting himself between Winston’s legs and kissed him.