Page 6 of Zero Confusion

DomicronPersei8: I’ve read in sex worker AMAs that some people pay them to talk, so it’s not the craziest idea.

DomPetty: The clients probably want to talk about their own lives, not interrogate them about their habits.

SubLime: I would definitely go for that. Except I would rent a sub to chat about their experiences. Dos and don’ts, that sort of thing.

SubMarine: Same. I feel so out of my depth, I need someone to hold my hand.

SubZero: Fine, I’m on board. Can we get a Dom that’s not like…a hardcore Dom, just someone who’s a little dommy?

DommyBoy: I heard my name.

DomOliver: We can’t actually…rent a Dom, can we?

SubScribble: You can, but it’s a bit more complicated than throwing cash at them. You need a contract and everything.

DomAndDommer: Oliver, you don’t have to tell anyone right away. If you’re vibing with someone, you could try to drop some hints or keep getting to know them until you have a good idea how open they’d be. Sometimes people surprise you, but most of the time it’s pretty obvious after a few dates.

DomOliver: Thanks for actually answering the question. That does make me feel a little better.

SubZero: …

SubZero: So is anyone going halfsies on a Dom with me or what?

Chapter 4

MILES

Miles hadn’t been lying. He would have been content to sit in silence and watch Zach study, but actually doing that seemed a little creepy, so he grabbed his drawing supplies and settled on the bed while Zach spread out on the couch.

His battered sketchbook flipped open to a page filled with spheres and cubes, each one carefully shaded in an effort to make them three-dimensional. If Miles squinted and looked from a certain angle, a couple of them were almost as good as the ones in the tutorials.

He still had a long way to go.

The urge to learn how to draw had come on suddenly and without warning. While watching videos of dogs reuniting with their owners, he’d accidentally stumbled onto a twenty-minute video of a charcoal artist sketching a dog. Instead of clicking away, he’d watched the entire thing, completely mesmerized, then immediately ordered some cheap art supplies online.

That was almost a year ago, and not a week had passed without Miles practicing. He didn’t have any talent, that much was obvious, but something about the repetitive motion of moving a pencil back and forth across a blank sheet of paper was meditative and soothing. He wasn’t willing to give it up. So, week after week, he dutifully pulled up a new tutorial and did his best to follow along.

Today’s lesson was cylinders. Miles watched the first few minutes before sketching out a rough outline, erasing it, and starting over.

As soon as he finished the first shape, his eyes flitted away from the page. Zach sat against the arm of the couch, an adorable frown on his face as he concentrated on reading. Miles wished he were good enough to immortalize this moment on paper, to capture Zach’s quiet beauty—his slightly pursed full lips, the sharp angles of his jawline and cheekbones, the impossibly long eyelashes.

Miles forced himself back to his sketch. The shadows didn’t cooperate, making it seem like his field of cylinders was on a planet orbiting multiple suns.

The next time he lifted his gaze, familiar gray eyes met his, and he couldn’t help grinning in response. Sneaking away from the farm and coming here unannounced had been a ridiculous plan, but it had worked out perfectly. Zach’s presence was a balm to his soul, and the tension that had been coiling inside him over the past few months melted away like ice in a glass of lemonade on a hot summer day. Miles could breathe freely now that his best friend was where he belonged.

Next to him.

As selfish as it was, he was glad Zach didn’t have a secret boyfriend. He wanted Zach to be happy, but at the same time couldn’t stand the idea of sharing him with anyone else. Eventually, he would have to deal with it, but that was a problem for future Miles.

An hour passed with only the rustle of pages breaking the silence. Miles had stolen dozens of glances at Zach, who’d been looking back at him at least half the time. Each time, they exchanged soft smiles and returned to their tasks—at least until Zach slammed the paper he was reading onto the coffee table and threw his head back with a groan.

“Ugh! I can’t concentrate.”

A twinge of guilt made Miles’s face heat. He hadn’t considered how his presence might make it harder for Zach to focus. Closing the sketchbook, he hopped off the bed. “Sorry, I can leave you alone for a bit.”

Zach narrowed his eyes and let out a loud buzzer sound. “Bzzt. Nope. Wrong answer. You’re not going anywhere. I’d have trouble concentrating either way, but at least now I have someone to listen to me complain.”

Miles chuckled and picked up Zach’s discarded pages, reading the title aloud. “When the Filter Fails: BeautyBlend’s Campaign Backfire. This is for your marketing class?”