🔥 First Anniversary 🔥
An Exclusive Bonus Scene from Night Shift
Thank You for Reading! 🌙
You made it to the bonus content—which means you’ve experienced Ryan and Evan’s journey from strangers to forever. Thank you for giving their story a chance.
This exclusive scene is our gift to dedicated readers like you. It’s too spicy for Amazon, so you’ll only find it here.
✨ BONUS SCENE: First Anniversary ✨
A Night Shift Exclusive
This scene takes place one year after the epilogue—December 31, 2005.
⚠️ Content Warning: Extremely explicit sexual content. This scene is intended for readers 18+ who have finished the main novel.
The rooftop was freezing, and Evan didn’t care.
Two years. Two years since he’d first noticed Ryan Brooks circling the parking garage like a lost planet searching for gravity. Two years since that first conversation on the loading dock, since the first kiss in the break room, since everything changed.
One year since the night Ryan gave him the grandfather’s key and promised him forever.
Now they were back on the rooftop—their rooftop—surrounded by the same string lights Marco had hung that first New Year’s Eve. The others had left an hour ago: Marco and Jason to their apartment, Brandon and David to wherever they were going, Karen Brooks to her husband, who was finally—finally—learning to say Evan’s name without flinching.
Just Ryan and Evan now. Just the two of them and the cold December air and a bottle of champagne that was almost empty.
“We should go inside,” Ryan said, breath fogging in the darkness. “It’s freezing.”
“In a minute.” Evan pulled him closer, wrapped both arms around him from behind. “I want to remember this.”
“Remember what? The frostbite?”
“The feeling.” Evan pressed his lips to Ryan’s neck, just below his ear. “Two years ago, I was so sure I’d never have this. A partner. A future. Someone who chose me and kept choosing me even when it was hard.”
“It wasn’t hard.” Ryan turned in his arms, cupping Evan’s face in gloved hands. “Loving you was the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”
“Liar. It was terrifying.”
“Okay, it was terrifying.” Ryan’s smile was soft in the string-light glow. “But it was also easy. Because it was you.”
Evan kissed him—slow and deep, tasting champagne and cold air and the future they were building together. When they pulled apart, Ryan was breathing harder, his eyes dark with familiar want.
“Now can we go inside?”
“Now we can go inside.”
Their apartment was warm after the rooftop cold.
They’d upgraded six months ago—a real two-bedroom on the fourth floor, with a kitchen that had actual counter space and a bathroom they could both fit in. Evan’s writing desk sat by the window, covered in notes for the second novel. Ryan’s textbooks were stacked on the coffee table, evidence of the business degree he was three semesters into.
It was theirs. Completely, officially theirs.
Ryan shed his coat the moment they crossed the threshold, tossing it toward the couch. Evan caught it out of habit—he was the neat one, somehow, despite years of living in squalor—and hung it properly before turning to find Ryan already pulling off his sweater.
“In a hurry?”
“I’ve been thinking about this all night.” Ryan’s sweater hit the floor. “Ever since you showed up in that jacket.”
“What’s wrong with my jacket?”
“Nothing. It just makes your shoulders look—” Ryan crossed the room, hands finding Evan’s lapels. “—really, really good.”
“My shoulders?”
“Your everything.” Ryan kissed him, harder this time, with an edge of desperation that made Evan’s blood run hot. “I want you. Right now. I’ve wanted you for hours.”
“We could have left the party earlier.”
“And miss Marco’s midnight toast? He would have been devastated.” Ryan’s fingers were working at Evan’s buttons, fumbling slightly. “Besides, anticipation makes everything better.”
“Is that right?”
“It’s absolutely right.” Ryan finally got the jacket open, pushed it off Evan’s shoulders. “I’ve been anticipating this specific moment since approximately 10 PM. Do you know what that’s like? Sitting across from you, watching you laugh, knowing exactly how you’re going to sound when I—”
Evan shut him up with a kiss.
They made it to the bedroom in stages.
Evan’s jacket, abandoned in the hallway. Ryan’s shirt, lost somewhere near the bathroom door. Their pants hit the floor just inside the bedroom, and by the time they reached the bed, there was nothing between them—just skin and heat and two years of learning exactly how to drive each other crazy.
Evan pushed Ryan down onto the mattress and climbed over him, taking his time. Kissing his jaw, his neck, the sensitive spot below his collarbone that always made him shiver. Ryan’s hands roamed—up Evan’s back, down his sides, gripping his hips hard enough to bruise.
“You’re going slow on purpose,” Ryan accused.
“I’m savoring.”
“Savor faster.”
“That defeats the purpose of savoring.” Evan bit gently at his collarbone, felt the full-body shudder that ran through Ryan in response. “Besides, I thought anticipation made everything better.”
“I take it back. Anticipation is terrible.”
“Mmm.” Evan kissed lower, following the trail of hair down Ryan’s stomach. “Should I stop?”
“Don’t you dare.”
Evan didn’t stop.
There was something sacred about this, Evan thought.
Not the act itself—though he loved that too, loved the weight of Ryan in his mouth, the sounds he made, the way his hips jerked when Evan did something particularly good. But the intimacy of it. The trust. The knowledge that Ryan had spent twenty-four years hiding, denying, running—and now he was here, open and vulnerable and completely Evan’s.
He worked Ryan slowly, drawing out the pleasure, backing off every time he got too close. Ryan cursed and begged and fisted his hands in the sheets, and Evan cataloged every response, every gasp, every desperate whisper of his name.
“Please,” Ryan finally said. “Evan, please—I need—”
“What do you need?”
“You. Inside me. Now.” Ryan’s voice cracked. “Please.”
Evan surged up to kiss him, deep and claiming, then reached for the nightstand. They’d done this a hundred times now—maybe more—but the first press inside still made them both gasp, still felt like coming home.
“Okay?” Evan managed.
“More than okay.” Ryan’s legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper. “Move. Please, I need you to move.”
Evan moved.
The rhythm they found was perfect.
Two years of practice had taught them exactly how to fit together, how to angle and thrust and adjust until every movement hit exactly right. Ryan clung to him, nails raking down Evan’s back, whispering a litany of yes and there and harder and I love you that blurred together into one continuous prayer.
Evan braced himself over Ryan, watching his face—the flush spreading down his chest, the way his lips parted around moans, the desperation building in his eyes.
“You’re beautiful,” Evan said. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
“Don’t—ah—don’t stop—”
“Never.” Evan reached between them, wrapped his hand around Ryan’s cock, stroked in time with his thrusts. “I’m never going to stop. I’m going to do this forever. I’m going to spend the rest of my life making you feel like this.”
“Evan—” Ryan’s back arched, his whole body tensing. “I’m going to—”
“Do it. Let me see you. Let me—”
Ryan came with a cry that echoed off the walls, spilling over Evan’s hand, his body clenching in waves. The sensation was too much—Evan followed him over the edge, burying himself deep, pleasure whiting out every coherent thought.
Afterward, they lay in the wreckage of the sheets.
Ryan’s head was on Evan’s chest, both of them still breathing hard, skin slick with sweat. Outside, the first fireworks of midnight crackled—they’d missed the actual countdown, but neither of them cared.
“Happy anniversary,” Ryan murmured.
“Happy anniversary.” Evan pressed a kiss to his hair. “Same time next year?”
“And every year after that.” Ryan shifted, propping himself up to look at Evan. His eyes were soft, sated, impossibly tender. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For not giving up on me. When I was scared and closeted and running from everything. You could have walked away. You probably should have.”
“I thought about it,” Evan admitted. “After Derek, I swore I’d never get involved with another closeted guy. And then you showed up, lurking in the parking garage, and I threw all my rules out the window.”
“Why?”
Evan considered the question. He’d asked himself the same thing a thousand times in those early days, when everything was uncertain and terrifying.
“Because you weren’t like Derek,” he finally said. “You were scared, yeah, but you were also brave. Every day, you chose to be a little more honest. A little more yourself. I could see you fighting for it—for who you wanted to be—and I wanted to be there when you won.”
“And now?”
“Now you’ve won.” Evan pulled him back down, held him close. “And I get to be the prize.”
“That was cheesy.”
“You love it.”
“I love you.” Ryan kissed him—soft and sweet, a promise and a thank you and a vow all wrapped into one. “Forever.”
“Forever,” Evan agreed.
Outside, the fireworks continued. Inside, two men held each other in the darkness, two years of love between them and a lifetime stretching out ahead.
The fear had gotten smaller than the love a long time ago.
Now there was just this: home, and warmth, and each other.
Everything they’d ever needed.
The End
(For real this time.)
Thank you for reading!
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More from The Closing Time Series:
After Hours — Jason × Marco
Book 3 — Coming Soon…