Chapter 2
MILES
Miles buried his face in Zach’s neck and squeezed harder.
Video chats were no substitute for being able to touch his best friend, to sink into the familiar scent of his citrusy body wash, to revel in the silky softness of his tousled hair.
He didn’t want to let go, wanted to stay in this moment forever.
Ever since Zach had moved away for college, Miles learned to cherish these rare opportunities to be close to his favorite person.
In high school, he’d imagined them going to the state university together—being roommates, taking the same courses, hanging out all the time—and it was a major blow when Zach revealed he was going to Portland.
The first reaction had been disappointment, but Zach had been so happy about getting a scholarship and leaving Montana, Miles had forced himself to swallow his bitter feelings.
Zach deserved to follow his dreams. He was so smart, so capable. He needed to spread his wings and fly, even if it meant leaving Miles behind.
The full extent of his desire to get away became obvious after he came out to Miles last summer.
So nervous, biting his lip until it bled, he’d said some absolute nonsense about understanding if Miles didn’t want to be friends anymore and then waited for Miles’s reaction with worry etched on his face.
What did he have to worry about? Didn’t he know he was essential to Miles?
He could turn out to be a serial killer, and Miles would still be desperate for his company, for his hugs, for the soft sounds of his breathing as he drifted off to sleep when they passed out on the couch watching movies.
Zach flinched, and Miles drew away with a frown as the smaller man hissed and stuck a finger in his mouth.
“Paper cut,” he mumbled around the obstruction, his eyes darting to Miles’s suitcase leaning against the building. “I can’t believe you’re here. How are you here?”
“I ran away from home.” Miles grinned, pulling on Zach’s wrist to examine the tiny cut on his thumb. Grabbing a neatly folded airplane napkin out of his pocket, he pressed it to the wound and cradled Zach’s hand to hold it firm. “Mouths are full of bacteria. You shouldn’t do that.”
“Miles, you’re an adult. I don’t think you can run away from home.”
A smile played on Zach’s lips, and an overwhelming sense of joy swept over Miles. Finally, he was here, with the snarky ball of energy that was his best friend. The dull colors of the overcast day were suddenly a little brighter, and it was easier to breathe.
“Fine, I didn’t run away. I snuck out under the cover of darkness without telling anyone where I was going. Except Mara. She drove me to the airport.”
His younger sister was the only person he’d trusted not to ask too many questions. She hadn’t been surprised when he cornered her after dinner the previous night and revealed his plan to visit Zach, only rolling her eyes and asking what time his flight was.
Zach grimaced, creasing the creamy skin of his forehead. “Your parents are going to hate me now.”
“They won’t.” Miles threaded his fingers through Zach’s, being careful with the injury, and pulled him closer. “I already talked to my mom, and she’s fine.”
He chose not to mention the dozen missed calls he saw when he landed in Portland or the way his mom had reamed him out for leaving without telling anyone when he called her back.
His biggest concern was Mara getting into trouble, but it seemed that his mom was mostly mad at Miles and his “poor choices.”
Miles happened to consider his impromptu trip an excellent choice, but he’d bitten his tongue during the conversation and apologized profusely.
He needed to play nice and make sure his parents didn’t use his tuition as leverage to demand he turn around and go home.
Strangely, after ranting for ten minutes without taking a single breath, his mother had sighed and told him to have fun.
A shocking twist.
Zach could obviously tell that Miles wasn’t giving him the full story. He narrowed his eyes in a long, dubious look while rooting around in his bag, but his expression cleared a few seconds later when he made a triumphant sound and pulled out a small keychain.
“Let’s get inside before my homework tries to fly away again.”
He steered Miles toward the suitcase, releasing his hand to go back for the bike. Miles’s fingers tingled with the ghost of Zach’s touch, its warmth lingering on his palm.
Only a few months had passed since they’d hung out during winter break, but he’d forgotten how solid Zach felt.
How warm and comforting. Growing up, they’d always been touching in some absent-minded way—shoving shoulders, elbowing each other, collapsing onto the same end of the couch.
It had always been natural, a part of who they were.
But this felt different. The pull was stronger, almost magnetic. Which made sense. After months apart, Miles wanted to spend every second as close to him as possible.
As Zach fumbled with the lock, Miles caught himself watching the line of his jaw, noticing how the dark long hair complemented his masculine features. He looked different.
“Are you gonna help or just stand there and supervise?” Zach asked with a grin.
Miles blinked and shook away the strange thoughts.
Holding his luggage in one hand, he grabbed the bike with the other and maneuvered through the entrance.
Zach led the way, climbing up the stairs to his studio apartment.
It seemed small on their video chats, but it was even tinier in person.
The front door opened to reveal a short hallway that led directly to the space that served as every room of the house.
A queen bed stood by the window with a view of the tree-lined street below.
On the other side of the room was a small kitchenette with a counter covered in papers and books.
A turquoise loveseat and a coffee table in the middle served as a living room of sorts.
It was a tight fit, but instead of being claustrophobic, it was cozy. A sturdy bookshelf and a dresser were cleverly arranged to break up the space, making it a far more pleasant environment than Miles’s own sterile dorm room.
Zach dropped his bag on the unmade bed and gestured to the dresser.
“I have an empty drawer. You can unpack your stuff, and we’ll stick your suitcase under the bed.”
Miles didn’t move, didn’t break eye contact.
He knew everything about the man in front of him—all of his likes and dislikes, all of his facial expressions, all of his tells.
The tightness around Zach’s eyes didn’t disappear as he smiled—a clear sign something was off.
It might have had nothing to do with Miles’s arrival, but he needed to make sure before making himself at home.
“Are you okay with me being here?” he asked, hating the vulnerability in his voice.
Zach tilted his head and drew his eyebrows together. “Of course. I’m thrilled you’re here. It’s just a surprise.”
He seemed to be telling the truth. Whatever was bothering him—and something definitely was—it wasn’t Miles’s presence.
Perhaps it had something to do with why Zach had lied about staying in Portland for summer classes.
He certainly didn’t need the credits. Miles wasn’t sure what Zach was hiding, though he had a few guesses, and he was determined to figure it out.
Sliding closer, until they were chest to chest and Zach had to crane his head to look at him, Miles wrapped his arms around his best friend’s small frame. Whatever was wrong could wait until later. For now, he wanted to bask in Zach’s presence.
“I missed you, Zee. So much. I couldn’t survive the summer without you.”
Zach closed his eyes and melted into the embrace.
“I missed you too,” he whispered, something soft and aching behind the words.