Chapter 4
MILES
Miles hadn’t been lying. He would have been content to sit in silence and watch Zach study, but actually doing that seemed a little creepy, so he grabbed his drawing supplies and settled on the bed while Zach spread out on the couch.
His battered sketchbook flipped open to a page filled with spheres and cubes, each one carefully shaded in an effort to make them three-dimensional. If Miles squinted and looked from a certain angle, a couple of them were almost as good as the ones in the tutorials.
He still had a long way to go.
The urge to learn how to draw had come on suddenly and without warning.
While watching videos of dogs reuniting with their owners, he’d accidentally stumbled onto a twenty-minute video of a charcoal artist sketching a dog.
Instead of clicking away, he’d watched the entire thing, completely mesmerized, then immediately ordered some cheap art supplies online.
That was almost a year ago, and not a week had passed without Miles practicing.
He didn’t have any talent, that much was obvious, but something about the repetitive motion of moving a pencil back and forth across a blank sheet of paper was meditative and soothing.
He wasn’t willing to give it up. So, week after week, he dutifully pulled up a new tutorial and did his best to follow along.
Today’s lesson was cylinders. Miles watched the first few minutes before sketching out a rough outline, erasing it, and starting over.
As soon as he finished the first shape, his eyes flitted away from the page.
Zach sat against the arm of the couch, an adorable frown on his face as he concentrated on reading.
Miles wished he were good enough to immortalize this moment on paper, to capture Zach’s quiet beauty—his slightly pursed full lips, the sharp angles of his jawline and cheekbones, the impossibly long eyelashes.
Miles forced himself back to his sketch. The shadows didn’t cooperate, making it seem like his field of cylinders was on a planet orbiting multiple suns.
The next time he lifted his gaze, familiar gray eyes met his, and he couldn’t help grinning in response.
Sneaking away from the farm and coming here unannounced had been a ridiculous plan, but it had worked out perfectly.
Zach’s presence was a balm to his soul, and the tension that had been coiling inside him over the past few months melted away like ice in a glass of lemonade on a hot summer day.
Miles could breathe freely now that his best friend was where he belonged.
Next to him.
As selfish as it was, he was glad Zach didn’t have a secret boyfriend. He wanted Zach to be happy, but at the same time couldn’t stand the idea of sharing him with anyone else. Eventually, he would have to deal with it, but that was a problem for future Miles.
An hour passed with only the rustle of pages breaking the silence.
Miles had stolen dozens of glances at Zach, who’d been looking back at him at least half the time.
Each time, they exchanged soft smiles and returned to their tasks—at least until Zach slammed the paper he was reading onto the coffee table and threw his head back with a groan.
“Ugh! I can’t concentrate.”
A twinge of guilt made Miles’s face heat. He hadn’t considered how his presence might make it harder for Zach to focus. Closing the sketchbook, he hopped off the bed. “Sorry, I can leave you alone for a bit.”
Zach narrowed his eyes and let out a loud buzzer sound. “Bzzt. Nope. Wrong answer. You’re not going anywhere. I’d have trouble concentrating either way, but at least now I have someone to listen to me complain.”
Miles chuckled and picked up Zach’s discarded pages, reading the title aloud. “When the Filter Fails: BeautyBlend’s Campaign Backfire. This is for your marketing class?”
“Public Relations,” Zach replied, dragging a hand down his face.
“It’s required for the minor in marketing.
It’s all about how to handle PR issues, and next week, we’re going through a bunch of examples of how companies handled their scandals.
Remember that car commercial that got a ton of backlash for having all-white straight couples?
That’s one of the examples we’re discussing. ”
“That’s definitely different from what we study in Agriculture classes,” Miles murmured, struck by how divergent their paths had become.
Zach was learning how to influence thousands of people and shape public perception while Miles was getting a degree he didn’t want, in a major his parents had chosen for him.
“Only because farms don’t have PR disasters.” Zach shrugged. “No one really cares about what happens on farms except the people who live on them.”
“How about you tell me about these?” Miles gestured at the articles strewn about the table.
“It’s not that exciting.” Zach picked one from the top. “You really wanna hear about it?”
“If it’ll help you study, then yeah. Besides, it sounds interesting.
” Miles nodded, pleased at the responding spark in Zach’s eyes.
Truth be told, he would have listened to anything Zach wanted to tell him.
He loved the sound of Zach’s perpetually amused voice, the mischievous edge that made everything he said feel like a shared joke.
They spent the next few hours going over the case studies.
Zach patiently explained various elements of corporate marketing, pointing out who’d dropped the ball in each case and what their job had entailed.
Miles didn’t understand all of it, but he asked a lot of questions.
This was a new world for him—he’d never considered that there was more to marketing than TV commercials and magazine ads.
As Zach talked, Miles tried to file everything away, but it was hard to focus. Zach’s excitement was distracting, his bouncing energy and playful smile more fascinating than any corporate scandal. The urge to reach out and envelop him in a tight hug was impossible to resist.
Miles was a moth, and Zach was the brightest light around.
As the darkness in the room deepened, Zach interrupted himself. “You must be exhausted. You’ve been awake since, what, four in the morning?”
Miles nodded. He’d been trying to tamp down his yawns, but they were coming hard and fast.
“Let’s get ready for bed. We got through a lot more material than I expected.” Zach gave Miles’s shoulder a quick squeeze. “Thank you for listening to me go on.”
“Anytime.” Miles stopped fighting the urge and pulled Zach’s small body into his own. “I love listening to you talk about smart stuff.”
For a brief moment, Zach gave in, his weight melting into Miles. It was a perfect fit—the connection between them strong and undeniable—but the moment was over before he could truly enjoy it. Zach tensed and scrambled off the couch, rushing toward the narrow hallway. “I’ll grab you a towel.”
They took turns going through their nightly routine.
The shower stall was cramped, clearly not designed for a man his size, but the water was hot and relaxing, and Miles let his mind wander as he stood under the stream.
The scent of Zach’s body wash permeated the steamy air, a tart citrus that didn’t smell quite right without Zach’s own sweetness mixed into it.
After drying off and slipping into an old T-shirt and boxers, he belatedly realized he’d forgotten to pack sweatpants.
Zach had seen him in his underwear plenty of times, yet for some strange reason, Miles was self-conscious about the amount of skin that was showing.
There wasn’t much to do about it now. With a deep breath, he stepped out of the bathroom and halted. Zach was zipping around the room with surprising grace, tucking away clutter and humming under his breath.
Zach’s brothers had always teased him for being small.
It made sense coming from Jerry—being mocked by older brothers was practically a rite of passage—but even Abe, almost three years younger, towered over Zach by the time he was twelve.
And sure, Zach was on the shorter side—willowy and slender, almost fragile at first glance—but his movements were sure-footed, and lean muscles lurked underneath his lithe exterior.
He had a quiet strength about him. Maybe he wouldn’t win any arm-wrestling competitions, but he could more than hold his own.
After it hit him that he’d been blatantly staring, Miles cleared his throat. “Shower’s all yours.”
Zach glanced back and widened his eyes, freezing mid-movement. Miles flushed at the reaction. “I’m sorry, I forgot to bring pajamas. I could borrow yours or...”
“Hilarious,” Zach panned. “They’re stretchy, but I don’t think they’re up to the challenge of someone twice my size.” Zach emphasized his words by running his eyes up and down Miles’s body and lifting an eyebrow. “It’s all good. I sleep in my boxers too.”
He gestured toward the bed and hurried into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.
Miles grabbed his phone and climbed under the comforter.
Though money and space were in short supply, Zach had sprung for a queen-sized mattress, and Miles was only too happy to benefit from that decision.
It was far more comfortable than his dorm bed and plenty big for both of them.