Chapter 6 #3
Tyler followed his gaze and scoffed. “Now I know you’re lying. That’s a friend of mine.”
Miles whipped his head around in surprise. “You know Zach?”
Tyler’s eyebrows shot up. “I guess you’re not lying. I had no idea Zach had a boyfriend. He and Joel are always talking about going out and hooking up.”
“It’s new,” Miles gritted out, staring daggers as Zach’s dance partner seemed to enjoy himself a little too much.
A few feet away, a hulking mountain of a man and Joel were doing much the same thing.
Almost everybody on the dance floor was, but Miles didn’t care about everybody.
His gaze kept snapping to Zach despite the sick, painful flutters in his stomach.
“So new that Zach forgot about it? That bad boy’s all over him.” Tyler’s voice was tinged with sympathy. Of course it was. After Miles’s stupid lie, the only reasonable assumption was that Zach was about to cheat on him in public.
Except it didn’t feel like a lie. The slow, deliberate movements as Zach rocked against the bad boy sent searing waves of jealousy through Miles’s chest, making it hard to breathe.
The desire to have Zach all to himself flooded Miles’s chest with a renewed intensity, making him forget everything else.
He wanted to be the one gliding against the lithe torso, letting his hands roam freely, lost in the chaos of darkness and thumping bass, beads of sweat collecting on their skin.
“Unless you’re looking for a third, you should probably do something,” Tyler said, reminding Miles that he wasn’t alone.
“It’s no big deal.” Trying to act nonchalant, Miles shifted his weight and cleared his throat. “It was nice to meet you, but I gotta...” He gestured toward the dance floor, and Tyler smirked with understanding, waving him off without a word.
Miles squeezed through the mass of people, bumping against limbs and muttering apologies that no one could hear, his entire being was focused on getting to his destination as quickly as possible, ignoring the part of his brain that screamed at him to stop, to walk away, to leave Zach in peace.
Pausing a few feet away from the dancing couple, Miles tried to figure out his next steps. Zach’s back was pressed up against the guy’s chest, not an inch of space separating them as they moved with the beat. He couldn’t very well butt in with a May I have this dance?
Except he didn’t have any other ideas.
He could sense the haze of lust permeating the air as he tapped the guy’s shoulder, an awkward moment passing as their eyes met.
They stared at each other in a silent exchange, each aware of what the other was saying without any need for words.
The man continued to move while holding his gaze, and for a terrifying moment, Miles thought he would turn away, continue dancing, keep Zach for himself. And then what? What could Miles do?
After what felt like an eternity, his opponent rolled his eyes and left with a huff.
Miles slid into his place seamlessly, molding himself around Zach.
It felt natural, as if he’d done it a million times before.
His arms snaked around the narrow waist, hands splaying over the thin fabric covering taut abs, their hips slotting together to follow the rhythm in unison.
He nestled close, reveling in the solid warmth cradled in his hold.
The earlier buzz was gone, replaced by the soft glow of satisfaction.
They moved as one, perfectly in tune. Chances were that Zach hadn’t noticed anything amiss. The transition, while dramatic to Miles, had taken mere seconds, and Zach’s eyes were closed.
He considered saying something, letting Zach know he was no longer grinding against the same guy, but that would mean interrupting what they were doing.
And Miles didn’t want to stop.
The world narrowed to the space between them as music pulsed in and out of existence. Heat gathered everywhere they touched—along his arms, his chest, his hips, as though Zach were made of fire, licking his skin with flames that threatened to consume him.
He didn’t have a clue what he was doing, didn’t even have the excuse of being drunk.
One moment of insecurity he didn’t understand, one stupid lie, and now he found himself in a position he’d never expected before, helpless to stop, bound by the overpowering urge to keep moving.
This went beyond his usual need for Zach.
This was different. Stronger. Miles didn’t understand it, but he didn’t question it either.
Nothing he felt for Zach could be wrong.
He chuckled to himself. If a few days ago someone had told him he’d be rubbing up against his best friend at a gay club, he would have…
Well, actually, he probably would have believed them.
Suddenly, Zach threw his head back onto Miles’s shoulder, and their eyes met. Zach froze, his wide, panicked gaze pinning Miles in place.
He should have let go, should have stepped away and said something, should have at least explained how he’d ended up there.
Instead, he tightened his hold on Zach’s waist and kept dancing.