Chapter 8
MILES
Zach was already up by the time Miles opened his eyes at sunrise.
Engrossed in his reading, he flashed Miles a distracted smile that didn’t reach his eyes and pointed to the coffeepot.
On the surface, everything seemed normal, but the air between them hung heavy, oppressive, throwing Miles off-balance.
Last night, Zach had promised he wasn’t mad about the Tyler situation, but Miles couldn’t shake the sense that something had shifted. Something big.
They drifted through the day—Zach studying quietly and Miles alternating between sketching cubes and scrolling on his phone. They made small talk over dinner, but other than that, Zach had given him a wide berth.
That night, neither of them reached out to hold hands, and Miles’s whole being ached from the distance between them. He hated every second of their careful silence.
The tension ebbed the next day. They made ciabatta toast and ate it with generic strawberry jam Miles found in the back of the fridge. It tasted like straight sugar, which suited Miles just fine.
When Zach poured their coffee, mixing two spoonfuls of sugar into Miles’s cup before handing it to him, giddy relief washed over Miles at the simple gesture. The strange, suffocating energy of the previous day was slowly fading away.
When he returned from taking a shower, Zach was dressed and shoving a stack of papers into his bag, glancing up when Miles walked in. “I only have one class for now. It meets Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays for three hours.”
“I know, Zee. You told me about this class and the consumer one that’s starting in a few weeks.”
“Right.” Zach zipped the bag and slung it over his shoulder.
“I’ll be back in a few hours. You can use my laptop since I’m not taking it with me.
It’s all discussions today, and I can do those case studies in my sleep at this point.
In fact, I had a nightmare about getting canceled when someone found out I use shampoo with palm oil. ”
Miles laughed—glad that Zach was joking around—and intercepted him by the door for an awkward side hug.
“Tell Joel I said hi,” he mumbled into Zach’s hair.
“Will do.” Zach squeezed his elbow and stepped away with a half-smile on his lips. “Tyler too?”
“Zee, I’m sorry—” Miles started, but Zach raised his palms in surrender.
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. I promise, I’m not mad at you.”
When the door clicked shut and the muffled sounds of Zach dragging his bike down the stairs faded away, Miles ran a hand down his face in frustration. Something was off. He didn’t know if it was because of the Tyler thing or the dancing.
He blushed. Neither of them had mentioned the dancing.
Miles had been fully prepared for a perfectly reasonable What the hell was that?
reaction, but Zach hadn’t said a word, and broaching the subject himself felt too awkward.
Besides, what would he even say? Expecting the question didn’t mean he had the answer.
And he really didn’t have the answer. After an entire day of mulling it over, he hadn’t managed to come up with a single excuse as to why he’d muscled his way onto the dance floor and practically glued himself to his best friend.
No, that wasn’t true.
While it raised more questions than it answered, he did have one excuse—because he’d wanted to. Because in the moment, it felt like the right thing to do.
The only thing to do.
Maybe it was for the best that Zach hadn’t brought it up.
It was his first time at the apartment without Zach, and the small space was too quiet, too still.
He poked around Zach’s bookshelves, pulling out a few books to read the blurbs.
Mostly marketing textbooks, a few sci-fi and romance novels sprinkled in, an occasional notebook filled with Zach’s messy handwriting.
One of the novels sounded promising, so he brought it over to the couch and settled in to read.
Ten minutes later and two pages in, he had to admit he was too restless to concentrate.
With a sigh, he abandoned the book and grabbed Zach’s laptop.
He could fuck around online or do some research on potential internships for next year, even if, deep down, he knew he wouldn’t follow through.
His parents wanted him back on the farm the day he graduated.
They’d never let him pursue any interests outside of their world.
Still, it was nice to have a dream. A silly, impractical dream that he hadn’t told anyone about, not even Zach.
Sophomore year, a sustainability consultant gave a guest lecture in his Environmental Science class, and all his classmates acted like doing research and writing up proposals was the most boring thing in the world.
But Miles had been fascinated. It became the stuff of fantasy.
The way other people talked about becoming famous writers, directors, CEOs—knowing full well that it wasn’t gonna happen—so did Miles stare off into space, imagining a future where he worked with farms across the state, across the country, to create sustainable practices and educate others.
He’d looked into it briefly, but didn’t let himself get attached to a future that could never be. The most he could hope for was to put his knowledge to use at the family farm, and even that wasn’t likely. His father was set in his ways, and Miles’s suggestions wouldn’t be taken seriously.
Looking at internships would be a waste of time. He was better off coming to terms with his path in life.
He prodded the power button and waited for the screen to flicker to life before typing in Zach’s password, the same one he’d had since second grade. Shockingly, it worked.
Miles would have to talk to him about the importance of cybersecurity.
The desktop loaded, and Miles’s heart skipped at the background picture. A picture of the two of them.
Miles remembered that day. They’d recruited Mara, who was around nine and impressionable enough to go along with their schemes, to play photographer while they climbed around heavy machinery and struck ridiculous poses.
Like all teenagers, they’d assumed their ideas were brilliant and everyone would see how cool they were, but in retrospect, the whole plan made no sense.
Everyone they knew lived on a farm. Pretending to drive a tractor was hardly impressive.
But it had been such a fun day that the end result almost didn’t matter. They’d spent hours outside and then gone through the hundreds of shots before posting the best ones online.
The picture staring him in the face definitely wasn’t one they would have picked to post. They were too happy, too adorable.
The exact opposite of the aloof and badass vibe they’d been going for.
Thirteen-year-old Miles rested his head on Zach’s shoulder, staring up at his best friend with naked devotion, his fingers latched onto Zach’s bicep, as if afraid to let go.
The afternoon light washed the blur of wheat fields and distant trees in golden hues, making everything shine, and, when he looked closely, he could see himself radiating as well. With love or obsession. Possibly both.
It struck him as odd that Zach kept this specific picture. Not one of the goofy ones they’d taken that day, or any other day, but this specific one, where Miles’s emotions were burning through the pixels like wildfire.
He’d have to ask him about it later.
The browser had several open tabs, and Miles was halfway through typing in his college URL when the words on the screen drew his attention.
He skimmed the text, his face quickly heating when he realized it was some kind of kink-related chatroom.
Nothing R-rated, but wild enough to make his heart race with embarrassment and excitement.
Why would Zach have this page open? Nothing about it seemed related to business, but Zach’s case studies had demonstrated that marketing was ever-present in all aspects of life, and Miles had heard the sex sells mantra plenty of times.
So it could have been research. And if it wasn’t…
Zach was allowed to have his secrets. He deserved privacy.
As Miles’s finger hovered over the touchpad, a thought hit him out of nowhere. What if Zach didn’t just read the chatroom?
What if he posted?
He couldn’t stop himself from scanning the page as waves of shame washed over him. Even without the trademark Z that Zach incorporated into every username he’d ever had, Miles would have recognized the sarcastic bite of his words.
He knew Zach too well.
Twinges of guilt forced him to log off and put the laptop back, but the damage was done. He’d never be able to concentrate on anything ever again, his thoughts spiraling with the newfound knowledge.
Restraints.
Zach, his Zach, his sweet little Zach, liked to be restrained during sex. And more interestingly, if his username was anything to go by, he considered himself a sub.
Miles wasn’t an expert on BDSM, but he’d picked up enough from pop culture for his imagination to create vivid mental images that burned themselves into his brain—Zach naked, tied up on the bed, his lithe body writhing with pleasure, moans pouring between his lush lips, his thin wrists struggling against thick rope.
In the background was Miles—watching, waiting, prepared to take control.
He wasn’t sure why he was part of the scenario, except he couldn’t bear to think of Zach with anyone else.
His smartwatch vibrated, a cheerful Keep it up! lighting the tiny screen in response to his pulse going haywire. He willed himself to calm down, forcing a series of deep breaths, when it buzzed again. A text from Zach.
Snatching his phone off the bed, he discovered a few missed messages. The first two had been sent a while ago, but the latest had just come in, another one popping up as Miles read them.
ZACH: Sorry, forgot to tell you how to get on my laptop. The guest account password is 1234.
ZACH: Admit it, you’d have never cracked that on your own.
ZACH: I just want to say, I’m not mad, but Tyler’s being such a jerk right now. He thinks I broke your heart and literally won’t shut up about it.
ZACH: Joel thinks it’s hilarious, sitting back and popping Skittles like the little chaos gremlin that he is.
A leaden weight settled in Miles’s stomach. Guilt. He’d screwed up. His impulsive words could ruin Zach’s reputation, his friendships, and definitely his day.
MILES: Can you tell him the truth?
ZACH: So I can look like a liar who won’t acknowledge my boyfriend? Pass.
MILES: I’m sorry, Zee.
ZACH: It’s fine. I don’t really care what Tyler thinks. But for the record, I’d never cheat on you.
MILES: I know.
Miles checked the time and did some calculations in his head.
According to their location-sharing app, if he left now, he’d make it to campus in time for Zach’s class to let out.
He wasn’t sure what he could do to fix the situation he’d gotten them into, but he could do something.
Maybe seeing that Miles wasn’t upset would be enough to get Tyler off their back.
He grabbed his wallet and flew out the door. Hoping not to get too sweaty, he alternated walking with light jogging until he reached his destination, barely taking his eyes off Zach’s dot on the map.
“Miles?”
A group of students spilled out of the building, with Zach at the front, a confused frown on his face. Joel hovered nearby, and Tyler walked a few feet behind, stuttering to a stop along with everyone else.
“Hey.” Miles nodded at each of them, a reckless idea suddenly forming in his head. He strode up to Zach with determination, cradling his face as soon as it was within reach. Before Zach could ask any questions, Miles leaned down and brushed their lips together.
It felt right. Being close to Zach like this was as natural as breathing, and when Zach shivered and Miles pressed closer to deepen the kiss, Tyler was the furthest thing from his mind.