Chapter 6
MILES
“What should I wear?”
A twitch of Zach’s lips betrayed his amusement as he watched Miles rifle through the meager selection in his drawer. “You brought nothing but T-shirts and flannel. In fact, I’m not sure you own anything else. Are you asking if you should wear the red and white or the brown and white?”
“Don’t forget the green and white.”
“Ooh, a bold choice. Going wild at college?”
Miles grinned. Zach’s playful teasing had a ring of truth to it—fashion wasn’t something he’d ever cared about. But tonight deserved an effort, and he had something different up his sleeve.
After Zach left the room, he listened for the shower to start and pulled what he’d dubbed his college outfit from the bottom of the drawer.
A few months ago, he’d gone to the mall with his roommate, Eric, and his girlfriend, Sarah.
She’d been insistent on playing dress-up with the “farm boy,” begging him to try on practically everything they came across.
Eventually, Miles relented and bought one of the less questionable combinations—a dark red button-down and a pair of slim-fit black jeans.
Nothing over-the-top, but for him, it might as well have been a tuxedo for how foreign the tight fabrics felt.
He’d worn the outfit a few times, mostly to keg parties—which he always left early due to boredom—but he’d definitely noticed an increased amount of attention. He was grateful to Sarah for making him buy it, even though she did end up cheating on Eric and breaking his heart only three weeks later.
There weren’t any mirrors in Zach’s apartment outside the bathroom, so Miles blindly ran a comb through his hair and hoped he looked presentable. An undercurrent of apprehension thrummed beneath his skin as Zach’s footsteps neared. Would he like it? Would he think Miles looked silly?
A gasp nearly escaped him at the sight of his best friend in a tight black tank top and jeans so skinny they looked painted on.
Zach acted uncharacteristically shy, refusing to make eye contact with Miles while gathering his keys, wallet, and phone from the kitchen counter.
The tantalizing scent of his woodsy cologne trailed behind him, wafting toward Miles.
“Zee, you look…” Miles exhaled in awe, a myriad of ways to finish that sentence bombarding him, making it difficult to pick just one. Stunning. Seductive. Mesmerizing. Magnetic. Impossible to ignore.
Zach was an attractive man without trying—Miles didn’t have a problem admitting that—but tonight, he’d taken it to another level.
His messy brown hair was styled, soft strands falling loosely over his forehead to give him an untamed edge.
His freshly shaved face had a soft, innocent quality that disappeared as Miles dipped his gaze down to the dark chest hair peeking out of the dangerously tight fabric.
“Thanks…” Zach’s tight smile faded as he finally looked up, his wide eyes sweeping over Miles. “Wow. I guess I was wrong about the flannels. I had no idea you owned something like that.”
“College is the best time to experiment, right?” Miles shrugged and smoothed the front of his shirt, suddenly self-conscious. His most impressive outfit couldn’t hold a candle to Zach’s getup. “Is it good enough?”
“It’s perfect.” His voice slightly hoarse, Zach cleared his throat. “Ready?”
Miles nodded despite the anxiety flaring inside his chest. Was he ready? But Zach was already holding the door open, and there was no time for self-doubt.
They grabbed a Lyft to the club. City lights blurred together into one continuous glowing thread.
The sidewalks outside were full of laughter and Saturday-night energy as fragments of bass and melody floated on the air in a discordant medley.
Miles stared out the window, trying to unpack his feelings.
Maybe he shouldn’t have been so quick to invite himself along.
The location wasn’t the problem—he didn’t mind hanging out at a gay club—but the thought of Zach flirting and dancing with other men, looking as captivating as he did, churned Miles’s stomach.
He wasn’t homophobic. Not at all. He loved and supported his friend wholeheartedly, and it wasn’t like Zach was the only gay person he’d ever met. He was aware of the queer couples around campus, few as they were, holding hands or making out.
But this was different. Zach was his person. His best friend. His platonic soulmate. Seeing him with someone else—a hookup, a boyfriend, a random guy at the club—sounded like torture.
This possessiveness wasn’t anything new.
He’d always been jealous of Zach’s other friends, anyone who got his attention and his smiles, anyone who dared come between them.
He knew he wasn’t entitled to Zach’s time, but he wanted it all the same.
Wanted it madly, deeply, to an unhealthy extent.
Maybe he should have tried harder to work on those feelings, but Zach never seemed to mind how needy and clingy Miles could be.
Sometimes, he even seemed to like it.
As their ride pulled up to the curb, Zach bid the driver a cheerful goodbye and climbed out of the car.
“There’s Joel!” He gestured to the tiny guy in a mesh crop top sauntering up to them with a sly grin.
“I can’t believe you made me wait on my own birthday,” he said instead of a greeting, giving Zach a pouty look before glancing over at Miles. “Ooh, and who do we have here?”
Zach placed his hand on Miles’s forearm and stepped a little closer. “This is Miles, my best friend from back home. He’s visiting.”
“Mmm,” Joel hummed as he scanned Miles up and down before turning around and heading toward the entrance. “Let’s go.”
Regardless of how open-minded he considered himself, Miles couldn’t have prepared for what greeted him as they walked in.
Unlike the dingy college bar he’d visited on occasion, this place wasn’t filled with college students in sweatshirts and jeans gossiping about their professors.
Everywhere he looked, shockingly attractive men in skintight clothing were either in each other’s laps or scanning the crowd with hungry looks.
The dance floor was a writhing mass of bodies pressed together, their movements more grinding than dancing.
Zach gripped his bicep, forcing his attention away from the hypnotizing undulations.
“Are you okay?” Zach’s eyes were full of concern, the corners of his mouth turned slightly downward. “Do you want to leave?”
Miles wanted to kick himself for putting that frown on Zach’s face.
Zach had tried to warn him, and now Miles was proving him right by acting like a fool, like a cow seeing a train for the first time.
He shook off the sense of shock and murmured, “Not at all, this is great! I just...I’ve never been anywhere like this before, and it threw me for a second. ”
“Are you sure?”
“Zachie, come on!” Joel squeezed between the two of them, snaking his arms around each of their elbows and dragging them toward the bar, impressively forceful for a man of such short stature.
“You had the same reaction the first time we came here. You small-town boys just aren’t used to so much eye candy in one place. He’ll get over it.”
Miles laughed, letting himself be dragged along. He was glad that Joel didn’t seem to mind his presence. “Already over it. Let’s go get some birthday drinks.”
“See! He’s getting with the program.” Joel flashed a dazzling smile, then turned to flutter his eyelashes at the bartender.
Miles hung back as his companions leaned in to chat with the handsome man behind the counter. Thumping bass reverberated through his spine, making it hard to follow the conversation, so he checked out the rest of the club.
Now that the initial shock had faded, he could appreciate the inviting ambiance—dim and mysterious, where all inhibitions could fall away.
Strategically placed uplighting made a perfect backdrop for the dance floor, sharp blues and purples piercing the darkness and making the crowded space feel like a movie set.
Restless energy coursed through him, urging him to move to the beat. That was a first. Miles didn’t dance, and it’d be strange to start now.
“Here you go!” A bump against his shoulder startled him, and he quickly looked away as if he’d been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. Zach was at his side, handing him a bright blue drink in a plastic cup.
“What is it?”
“Alcohol.”
Miles rolled his eyes and took a sip. The sweet, fruity flavor exploded on his tongue, masking whatever spirit lurked beneath.
Rum, maybe tequila? Miles wasn’t sure. His experience with drinking boiled down to beer and simple combinations he could mix on his own—mainly whiskey and Coke.
No way could he name half the ingredients in this blue concoction, but that wouldn’t stop him from enjoying it.
Halfway through the drink, he realized something and leaned over to Zach’s ear.
“I was supposed to get the first round.” The scent of cedar mixed with something vaguely floral overwhelmed him as he hovered over Zach’s neck, causing him to lose his train of thought and sway in place, a rush of intoxication coming over him.
The little blue drink must have been much stronger than he realized if only a few sips made him tipsy.
“You can get the next round.”
Zach’s breath grazed his cheek, making the skin tingle. They were close. Very close. Miles could turn his head and brush his lips against Zach’s stubble. A surprising urge to do just that made his throat tighten.
What was happening to him?
Reluctantly, he murmured his agreement and straightened.
A strange mix of warmth and discomfort twisted in his stomach as Zach shifted his attention and returned to the conversation with Joel.
From the bits and pieces Miles could hear, they were chatting about their professors and classmates. Nothing he could contribute to.