Chapter 5
ZACH
“What’s the plan for today? More homework?
” Miles asked, shoveling the last bit of syrup-soaked waffle into his mouth.
His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed, a perfectly normal bodily movement that suddenly seemed obscene.
Zach forced his gaze away and gathered their plates to carry back to the kitchen.
He needed a moment before responding to Miles’s question. Right now, he could barely look him in the eye without blushing.
It had been an interesting morning so far. He’d woken up in time to hear Miles in the shower, his muffled moans searing themselves into Zach’s brain, swirling around, destroying his ability to think.
“I should probably study.” Zach kept his voice even, neatly placing the dirty dishes in the sink and wiping down the counter.
Anything not to make eye contact. “We could go to the Arts District for lunch. You’ll like it—it’s bright and colorful, and there are little art galleries and cute shops with random stuff. ”
Miles came up behind him and placed his chin on Zach’s shoulder, his large, warm hands landing on Zach’s biceps. “You don’t have to entertain me, you know. If you need to study, I’ll hang out here, maybe do some grocery shopping. We can go out to dinner and watch a movie when you’re done.”
Zach winced, remembering his plans with Joel.
“I actually already have something tonight...”
Miles tensed and stepped away, leaving a strange, electric tingle behind on Zach’s skin. A relief and a loss at the same time.
“I promised Joel we’d go to the club for his birthday.
Between finals and summer classes, it’s been a while since we’ve gone, and he’s really looking forward to it.
Otherwise, I would cancel,” Zach said apologetically and reluctantly turned around.
He could only wipe the same square inch of the counter so many times.
“Who’s Joel?” Miles asked, a flicker of hurt flashing behind his eyes and his jaw set tight. If Zach didn’t know any better, he’d say Miles looked jealous.
Thankfully, Zach knew better.
“I’ve told you about Joel. He’s in my classes, and we go to happy hours together?”
“You might have mentioned him,” Miles conceded, a disappointed frown lingering on his face. “You’re going out with him tonight?”
“I’m going to the club with him,” Zach stressed, mostly for his own sake.
Miles had never seen Joel, and he wouldn’t judge Zach based on who he dated anyway, but Zach wanted it to be extremely clear that he was in no way romantically involved with a bratty firecracker who happened to be shorter and skinnier than Zach himself.
Zach’s type was the complete opposite—tall, broad, and currently standing across from him, arms folded in front of his chest, looking so crestfallen that the words tumbled out on their own. “Wanna come along?”
“Okay!” The tension in Miles’s muscles loosened, a spark of eagerness lighting up his expression. “The more, the merrier, right? I’ll buy your Joel a birthday drink.”
Zach wished he could travel back in time to before he made the offer.
“Miles, so you know...” Zach bit his lip, trying to think of the nicest way to put it. “It’s not like a party or anything. It’s just me and Joel hitting the club to get him laid.”
Miles nodded in agreement. “That’s fine.”
He wasn’t getting it, staring at Zach with those puppy-dog eyes, and Zach was seconds away from saying fuck it and abandoning Joel. Except Joel didn’t deserve to have his birthday ruined by Zach’s inability to communicate.
“It’s a gay club,” he gritted out through his teeth.
Reminding Miles about his sexuality made him feel itchy and uncomfortable.
Miles had been amazingly supportive when Zach came out, but it was easy to be accepting from afar.
What would Miles do when faced with a dim room full of men grinding up on each other?
Zach was terrified to find out.
“I figured.” Miles shrugged and plopped down on the couch with his phone, but Zach couldn’t let this go. Miles had no idea what he was signing up for.
“Miles, there won’t be any women for you to pick up. It’s only men. Gay men. Men who’ll flirt with you and try to get in your pants.”
“Awww.” Miles looked up and gave Zach a brilliant smile. “You think I’m hot enough for big-city dudes to flirt with me?”
“Seriously?” Zach rolled his eyes and gave up. “Whatever. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
It was obvious Miles wouldn’t change his mind, so Zach stopped trying to convince him otherwise and pulled out his homework.
Miles patted the cushion, inviting Zach to sit with him, and the morning passed in a blur of leaning into Miles’s familiar warmth while struggling through the discussion questions that accompanied each case study.
The Public Relations class wasn’t particularly challenging in and of itself, but the grueling summer schedule meant a full semester’s worth of material was condensed into six weeks.
Their professor had impressive credentials—a published author with his own PR firm—and didn’t bother with boring basics and dry theories.
Every three-hour session was filled with analyzing real-world strategies and lively discussions.
Fascinating as it was, it meant hours of reading every day in preparation for each class.
Zach would never take a normal sixteen-week semester for granted again.
At least Miles was with him, making the slog slightly more bearable. He sat nearby, focused on his phone, and whenever Zach lifted his head to rest his eyes or stretch, Miles’s hand flew to the nape of his neck and massaged the stiff muscles.
Zach must have done something amazing in a previous life to deserve this never-ending affection.
The occasional peek at Miles’s phone hadn’t revealed anything upsetting—Miles wasn’t texting his girlfriend or swiping through dating apps. In fact, he wasn’t doing much at all besides texting different family members.
“You should consider starting a family group chat,” Zach huffed after seeing Mara’s name at the top of the screen for the second time in the past ten minutes. Their thread consisted of nothing but emojis, so Zach wasn’t sure why Miles was so focused on it.
“Are you snooping on me instead of studying?” Miles chuckled and ran his palm up Zach’s spine.
His touch was electric, zinging along every nerve, and Zach arched in satisfaction.
After returning his attention to Mara’s latest string of devil emojis, Miles kept touching him, fingers burrowing into Zach’s hair and lightly massaging the scalp.
Fuck. Zach wished he could live in that moment forever.
Another hour passed, and Miles announced he was off to get groceries.
Zach gave him directions to the nearest store—a small market with fresh produce, run by an adorable hippie couple.
They didn’t always have rice or pasta, but they never ran out of almond milk and fresh mozzarella.
He didn’t need his three-quarters of a business degree to know that the strange selection said far more about the neighborhood than it did about the store itself.
After the door clicked shut, the silence was almost deafening.
Zach had lived on his own for two years, yet it only took one day of Miles’s presence for the apartment to feel emptier than ever before.
Sunlight poured through the windows, dust motes drifting lazily in the rays of light, stirred up by Miles’s enthusiastic movements.
Zach’s plan had backfired horribly. He’d stayed in Portland partly to avoid the temptation that was Miles, and now they were stuck in a tiny space for the rest of the summer.
He let out a bitter chuckle at the ironic twist of events, worst-case scenarios running through his head.
What if his crush on Miles became obvious?
What if Miles wasn’t as comfortable with Zach’s sexuality as he thought?
What if their friendship didn’t survive the summer?
The only silver lining was the hope that forced proximity to a half-naked Miles would act as immersion therapy, and the crush would dissipate on its own. Either that, or he’d keep falling deeper and deeper, destroying his heart in the process.
Zach sank into the couch and stared at the ceiling, acutely aware of the dangerous game he was playing.
* * *
The door slammed open, and heavy grocery bags hit the floor, startling Zach out of his reverie. He whirled around, greeted by Miles’s beaming grin.
“I got five different kinds of pastries!”
His excitement over baked goods was so adorable, Zach’s heart tightened in his chest. The stakes were high, but he couldn’t wish for a better way to spend the summer. Even if Miles discovering the bakery two blocks down meant that every meal going forward would be nothing but sugar.
Thankfully, Miles bought food besides dessert.
The kitchenette wasn’t meant for creating elaborate meals, but it had everything needed to make a simple dinner—and tonight, they would dine on spaghetti with mushroom sauce.
Zach assessed the variety of breads inside the paper bag and chose the ciabatta, saving the pumpernickel and a strange, gray-looking loaf with walnuts for later.
He couldn’t blame Miles for getting excited and buying too much.
After moving into the studio, Zach had acted the same way while exploring the neighborhood shops for the first time—overwhelmed by the variety of selections, getting one of everything that was remotely new and interesting.
Coming from a rural town with only one grocery store, having so much choice was mind-blowing.
Miles technically lived in a relatively large college town himself, but Zach knew from their conversations that he hadn’t taken advantage of it.
Instead of enjoying the college experience and living it up in the city, Miles dutifully drove home almost every single weekend.
Zach wasn’t sure why—his parents and siblings, not to mention the farm employees, were more than capable of managing the workload on the farm.
Especially in winter. Wheat farms weren’t exactly the hotbed of activity in the off-months.
And it wasn’t like Miles was homesick, since he’d expressed frustration with the frequent trips.
His best guess was that Miles’s parents didn’t trust him on his own and pressured him to come home at every opportunity.
They hadn’t been thrilled about his decision to go to college in the first place, assuming that, like his older brother, he would dedicate himself to the family business right after high school.
In the end, Miles hadn’t truly had a chance to spread his wings and enjoy city life, and Zach vowed to change that. If he had to eat cauliflower bread stuffed with sunflower seeds to make it happen, that was a sacrifice he was willing to make.
They ate dinner at the coffee table, watching an old comedy on Zach’s laptop while carefully balancing their overflowing plates on their laps.
“Sorry, this is kind of awkward.” Zach cringed when Miles almost dropped his fork. “Studio apartment living doesn’t lend itself to luxuries like dining tables.”
“It’s not like there’s real furniture in my dorm room.” Miles sent a crooked smile at Zach before shoving a heaping fork of pasta into his mouth.
“Who says that college doesn’t teach important life skills?
You’re guaranteed to learn how to eat dinner with one hand while doing homework with the other.
” Zach carefully twirled his plate on one finger.
It didn’t spin for very long, but the fact that nothing fell off was impressive in itself.
Miles let out a loud whoop and eyed his own plate, as if considering whether to attempt the same feat.
“I feel like this ends with me wearing pasta sauce,” he said, lifting it with one hand to test its weight.
Zach chuckled. “Another important life skill to learn in college—know when it’s time for a tactical retreat.”
“Yeah.” Miles sighed and lowered his plate back to his knees. “I’ll leave the stunts to you. You always were better at balancing. Remember when we had dessert dates, and I kept dropping stuff?”
Zach chuckled at the memories. As kids, they visited each other’s houses for dinner once or twice a week, but that hadn’t been enough.
When they were around eleven years old, Miles decided he wanted to eat together with Zach every night, so he came up with the brilliant idea of dessert dates, which had been nothing more than them taking turns sneaking onto each other’s property with whatever dessert they had on hand and eating together in a barn or under the stars.
The arrangement didn’t last long. After a particularly sticky apple cobbler ended up attracting a shocking number of rats to the Bishops’ tool shed, Zach’s dad had been furious, and dessert dates were banned.
“Lucky our houses are so close together,” Zach mused. “With how large the plots are, we could have been stuck walking for half an hour with those plates of pie and whipped cream.”
“Yeah,” Miles said. “But we would have done it anyway.”
Zach couldn’t disagree. Whether ten years ago or today, nothing would stop him from getting to Miles.