Chapter 9
ZACH
Zach’s brain screeched to a standstill.
He didn’t know how to react, didn’t know what Miles was doing, or how it was possible that a situation that had only ever existed in his fantasies was suddenly playing out in real life.
Miles’s soft lips brushed against his, warm and sweet.
Impossible to resist.
One part of him was frozen with indecision, while the other screamed to keep going. He’d wanted this for so long. This was his opportunity to taste Miles, to breathe him in, to commit to memory every single detail of this perfect moment. A powerful shiver rocked him, and Miles’s grip tightened.
It was impossible to say who initiated it.
Between one breath and the next, their mouths were open, their tongues tangled together.
The connection evolved from a gentle caress to a battle for dominance, stealing his breath.
It felt like free fall, like the first seconds of going down a slide—the weightlessness, the brief panic, the inevitable surrender to gravity.
He swayed. His hands flew up to Miles’s shoulders, clutching at the thin fabric of his shirt to keep himself steady. Miles groaned, a rumble from deep inside his chest, and Zach gladly swallowed the sound, absorbed the vibration, pressed closer.
It was over as quickly as it had started. With a final peck, Miles drew away and turned to their audience.
“Sure is hot out here.” Joel fanned himself with his hand and pumped his eyebrows.
“Guess you weren’t lying,” Tyler said, his gaze bouncing between him and Miles. “Sorry.”
Zach offered him a tight smile and nodded.
Annoying as today had been, he couldn’t fault Tyler for giving him a hard time.
After one too many dirty looks and pointed jabs during class, he’d almost given in and told Tyler it was all a misunderstanding, but it would only sound like a shady excuse.
The cliché of a married man telling his mistress he’s separated and totally about to get a divorce. It would only make Tyler hate him more.
Besides, a small part of him had reveled in the idea of Miles saying they were boyfriends. Whatever his reasons—Zach still wasn’t clear on what those were—it created a small bubble of hope within him, a small universe where he could pretend his wildest dream was a reality.
He didn’t want that bubble to burst.
Once his classmates realized the show was over, the group dissipated until Joel was the only one left.
“That should take care of Tyler.” Miles winked at Zach and pulled him closer. Zach’s bag swung heavily, and Miles slipped it off his shoulder and onto his own.
“Wow, it was so thoughtful of you to come all this way and make out with Zach just for Tyler’s sake.” Joel’s words dripped with sarcasm, and Zach couldn’t help but chuckle. Even if Miles’s only motivation behind the kiss was to get Tyler off his back, it was still worth it.
Except…Zach suspected there was more to it. Nothing about that kiss seemed born out of obligation and guilt. Miles usually couldn’t lie his way out of a paper bag, and there was no way he could have faked the passion that Zach had felt, could still feel rolling off him.
“Umm. Yeah.” Miles blushed and darted his gaze to Zach. “Ready to go home?”
Zach bit his lip to keep from laughing and nodded in agreement. He was glad Joel had pointed out the elephant in the parking lot, but he wouldn’t join in the teasing. This was too important, too fragile. Pushing Miles to conclusions wouldn’t accomplish anything.
If Miles decided he wanted to kiss Zach again, he’d have to come to that decision entirely on his own.
As they strolled back to the apartment, rolling his bike down the edge of the sidewalk, Zach floated on his good mood. The sun shone brighter, the air smelled fresher, and he couldn’t keep a smile off his face. Who knew one kiss could work such wonders?
“Let’s stop by to see if there’s any new flavors for you to try,” he offered as they approached the bakery. “On Mondays, they have lavender-infused cinnamon raisin baguettes made with lentil flour.”
“That sounds…” Miles wrinkled his nose. “Interesting?”
Zach snickered, and Miles shot an accusing look. “Oh, I see. You’re making fun of me. Making fun of a small-town boy whose only crime is his love of baked goods. All he’s ever wanted was to enjoy delicious bread until a mean city slicker mocked him for his simple ambitions.”
“I’m as much of a small-town boy as you are.” Zach playfully bumped his shoulder against Miles’s bicep. “And I’m not making fun of you. I’m mocking baking culture and its need to keep coming up with increasingly ridiculous recipes.”
“We should bake bread together. I bet we could come up with some fun flavors.”
“I’m sorry to dash your hopes, but you might have noticed I don’t have an oven. Unless you find a recipe for microwave bread, we’re out of luck.”
Miles pursed his lips in thought as Zach locked his bike to a tree, then clapped his hands in triumph. “Bread machine! I can order one online.”
“Oh, perfect.” Zach rolled his eyes, pretending that Miles’s enthusiasm wasn’t endlessly contagious. “The summer of carbs. Can you figure out how to fit the entire food pyramid into a baguette?”
“Fish might be a bit of an issue.” Miles beamed at Zach, making him forget everything else.
He was so beautiful in this moment, so happy and carefree, so excited about their silly plans.
Zach’s chest tightened, his heart swelling with a love so intense it made the back of his eyes prickle.
Platonic or romantic, kisses or hugs, he couldn’t imagine his life without Miles.
It was foolish of him to think he could ever escape.
The bakery selections were disappointingly normal, though no less delicious.
Miles cradled a paper bag with a cheese-crusted focaccia the entire way home, regaling Zach with stories of his occasional trips off campus to try out different foods.
By the time they’d gotten back to the apartment, Zach had come up with a long list of places he had to take Miles.
* * *
“Zee, I gotta tell you something,” Miles said after lunch.
He’d been acting awkwardly since they got back, a soft pink flush creeping up his neck whenever their eyes met.
At first, Zach chalked it up to the kiss, but it didn’t fit.
He knew all of Miles’s expressions like the back of his hand, and this was the same look Miles had when he’d confessed to losing Zach’s cool tricolor pen in second grade.
The unmistakable look of someone who’d done something wrong.
Zach settled on the sofa and tucked his feet under him.
“What did you do?” he asked with amusement, glancing around the room to see if he could spot what was broken.
He hoped it wasn’t the freezer. His landlord was notoriously slow when it came to fixing things, and a steady supply of ice cream was practically a necessity in the summer.
Miles sat next to him, perching on the edge of the cushion with an awkward tension, as if ready to bolt.
His fingers fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, twisting the fabric as tight as it would go, then releasing and starting again.
He inhaled deeply, as if getting ready to speak, but nothing came out.
“Whatever it is, it’s fine. Unless you hacked into my browser history and sent it to everyone I know, I don’t think you can top the Tyler clusterfuck,” Zach reassured him with a smile. “Just tell me.”
A strangled sound escaped Miles, almost like he’d tried to breathe in and out at the same time.
His cheeks bloomed bright scarlet, and something told Zach this wouldn’t be as easy as a broken appliance.
He waited as Miles opened and closed his mouth a few more times, the words finally spilling out all at once.
“I logged in using your password before I saw your text about the guest account, and you had something open on your browser, and I looked at it, and I shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t stop.” He paused and swallowed hard. “I’m sorry.”
He looked at Zach with a contrite plea, his eyes begging for forgiveness. Confusion swirled Zach’s thoughts. That was it? Accidentally stumbling across someone’s porn could be embarrassing—exactly why he’d made the guest account in the first place—but it wasn’t the end of the world.
Zach was about to tell him to stop blowing it out of proportion when another thought struck.
He hadn’t watched porn in days. Not since before Miles had arrived.
Unease slithered in, tugging at the back of his mind. What else could have possibly affected Miles enough to act so strangely? What could Zach have in his browser besides a million tabs on marketing theory? What did…
“Oh no,” he exhaled. “No, no, no.” It was his turn to stare at Miles with a pleading expression. What was he even pleading for? A time machine?
Fuck, what he wouldn’t give for it to be a broken freezer right now.
“Please tell me you found some porn and felt awkward about it,” he implored. “Or that you can’t be friends with me because of how badly I misspell words in my Google searches. Miles, please.”
Miles gave him a sheepish smile and didn’t say any of those things.