Page 12 of Zero Confusion

This possessiveness wasn’t anything new. He’d always been jealous of Zach’s other friends, anyone who got his attention and his smiles, anyone who dared come between them. He knew he wasn’t entitled to Zach’s time, but he wanted it all the same. Wanted it madly, deeply, to an unhealthy extent. Maybe he should have tried harder to work on those feelings, but Zach never seemed to mind how needy and clingy Miles could be.

Sometimes, he even seemed to like it.

As their ride pulled up to the curb, Zach bid the driver a cheerful goodbye and climbed out of the car.

“There’s Joel!” He gestured to the tiny guy in a mesh crop top sauntering up to them with a sly grin.

“I can’t believe you made me wait on my own birthday,” he said instead of a greeting, giving Zach a pouty look before glancing over at Miles. “Ooh, and who do we have here?”

Zach placed his hand on Miles’s forearm and stepped a little closer. “This is Miles, my best friend from back home. He’s visiting.”

“Mmm,” Joel hummed as he scanned Miles up and down before turning around and heading toward the entrance. “Let’s go.”

Regardless of how open-minded he considered himself, Miles couldn’t have prepared for what greeted him as they walked in. Unlike the dingy college bar he’d visited on occasion, this place wasn’t filled with college students in sweatshirts and jeans gossiping about their professors. Everywhere he looked, shockingly attractive men in skintight clothing were either in each other’s laps or scanning the crowd with hungry looks. The dance floor was a writhing mass of bodies pressed together, their movements more grinding than dancing.

Zach gripped his bicep, forcing his attention away from the hypnotizing undulations.

“Are you okay?” Zach’s eyes were full of concern, the corners of his mouth turned slightly downward. “Do you want to leave?”

Miles wanted to kick himself for putting that frown on Zach’s face. Zach had tried to warn him, and now Miles was proving him right by acting like a fool, like a cow seeing a train for the first time. He shook off the sense of shock and murmured, “Not at all, this is great! I just...I’ve never been anywhere like this before, and it threw me for a second.”

“Are you sure?”

“Zachie, come on!” Joel squeezed between the two of them, snaking his arms around each of their elbows and dragging them toward the bar, impressively forceful for a man of such short stature. “You had the same reaction the first time we came here. You small-town boys just aren’t used to so much eye candy in one place. He’ll get over it.”

Miles laughed, letting himself be dragged along. He was glad that Joel didn’t seem to mind his presence. “Already over it. Let’s go get some birthday drinks.”

“See! He’s getting with the program.” Joel flashed a dazzling smile, then turned to flutter his eyelashes at the bartender.

Miles hung back as his companions leaned in to chat with the handsome man behind the counter. Thumping bass reverberated through his spine, making it hard to follow the conversation, so he checked out the rest of the club.

Now that the initial shock had faded, he could appreciate the inviting ambiance—dim and mysterious, where all inhibitions could fall away. Strategically placed uplighting made a perfect backdrop for the dance floor, sharp blues and purples piercing the darkness and making the crowded space feel like a movie set.

Restless energy coursed through him, urging him to move to the beat. That was a first. Miles didn’t dance, and it’d be strange to start now.

“Here you go!” A bump against his shoulder startled him, and he quickly looked away as if he’d been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. Zach was at his side, handing him a bright blue drink in a plastic cup.

“What is it?”

“Alcohol.”

Miles rolled his eyes and took a sip. The sweet, fruity flavor exploded on his tongue, masking whatever spirit lurked beneath. Rum, maybe tequila? Miles wasn’t sure. His experience with drinking boiled down to beer and simple combinations he could mix on his own—mainly whiskey and Coke. No way could he name half the ingredients in this blue concoction, but that wouldn’t stop him from enjoying it.

Halfway through the drink, he realized something and leaned over to Zach’s ear. “I was supposed to get the first round.” The scent of cedar mixed with something vaguely floral overwhelmed him as he hovered over Zach’s neck, causing him to lose his train of thought and sway in place, a rush of intoxication coming over him.

The little blue drink must have been much stronger than he realized if only a few sips made him tipsy.

“You can get the next round.”

Zach’s breath grazed his cheek, making the skin tingle. They were close. Very close. Miles could turn his head and brush his lips against Zach’s stubble. A surprising urge to do just that made his throat tighten.

What was happening to him?

Reluctantly, he murmured his agreement and straightened. A strange mix of warmth and discomfort twisted in his stomach as Zach shifted his attention and returned to the conversation with Joel. From the bits and pieces Miles could hear, they were chatting about their professors and classmates. Nothing he could contribute to.

Standing next to each other, they looked similar at first glance—slight builds and dark hair—but the similarities ended there. Joel was delicate, almost fragile, without a hint of Zach’s lean muscles. Miles could see the attraction of those long eyelashes and pouty lips, but Joel couldn’t compare to Zach—to the striking, almost unsettling gray of Zach’s eyes, to the less-than-innocent smirk perpetually gracing his full lips, to the sharp angles of his cheekbones and jawline.

Lost in his thoughts, Miles was caught off guard when Joel tugged on his sleeve. “We’re gonna go dance! Wanna come?” Joel yelled over the music, simultaneously gesturing to the dance floor. Miles snapped his gaze to the conflicted expression on Zach’s face, and tendrils of guilt slithered through him. This was Zach’s space, and he’d be damned if his presence prevented Zach from enjoying himself.