Page 25 of Zero Confusion

Later, as they drifted to sleep, Miles’s fingers threaded through Zach’s in the darkness, and he smiled into the pillow, glad their earlier conversation hadn’t damaged anything between them. When Miles admitted to finding the Kink Talk chatroom in his browser, Zach had been terrified. Of judgment. Of disgust. Of losing his best friend. The fear had cut so deep that he could barely breathe.

He should have given Miles more credit. His reaction—genuine curiosity and concern for Zach—had been shocking in the best possible way, and the ginger way he’d handled Zach’s sex toys muddled Zach’s mind with a strange mix of apprehension and desire. He’d never look at those cuffs the same way again, not after they’d been blessed with Miles’s touch.

It was hard to believe that only a few days had passed since Miles’s arrival. In that short time, he’d managed to throw Zach’s emotions into complete disarray. The grinding on the dance floor. The tongue-heavy kiss. The conversation about Zach’s sex life.

On the other hand, outside of those brief, intense moments, Miles had acted as his usual self—same silly banter, same platonic touches. Same easygoing Miles.

The whole situation was infuriatingly confusing. At this rate, Zach wasn’t sure he could handle whatever the rest of the summer had in store for them.

Oh, who was he kidding? He could—and he would—take anything Miles would give him. Always.

* * *

Miles was already awake and fumbling around the kitchen by the time Zach opened his eyes, but the quiet joy of a night spent clutching his best friend’s hand lingered like a glowing ember radiating warmth from behind his ribs.

“Anything I can do to help today?” Miles asked after handing Zach his coffee. “You can delegate some research to me. Or I could do the laundry. Is there a laundromat nearby?”

Zach examined Miles’s earnest expression. How was this man real? No one had ever been this wholesome and sweet to Zach. Not any of his brief flings, not Joel, not even his own family, most of whom preferred to show their love in more reserved and practical ways.

“Are you really okay spending your whole summer stuck in my tiny studio?”

“Why are you making it sound like something bad?” Miles met his gaze with disarming honesty, a slight furrow notched into his brow. “That’s like asking if I’d be okay eating doughnuts for breakfast every day. I’m more than okay with that.”

Zach’s stomach flooded with butterflies, jittery excitement clenching his chest. Despite already being head over heels for Miles, he fell in love a little more each day.

“There’s a laundromat on the first floor,” Zach said, suppressing a giddy smile. “But I have slightly more exciting plans for today.”

Miles perked up, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. “What are we doing?”

“Remember I mentioned the Arts district? I think today’s the perfect day to go walk around.”

Miles glanced out the window at the overcast sky and scrunched his face in disbelief. Zach laughed and patted his shoulder. “Trust me.”

As expected, the weather had cleared up by the time they got to the bus stop. Early morning drizzle had given way to bright sunshine, dry heat swirling in the air.

“I really should have trusted you,” Miles said ruefully, wiping a droplet of sweat from his forehead. Zach shrugged with an apologetic smile. After three years on the West Coast, he was used to the weather fluctuations and had learned to trust the forecast regardless of how improbable it seemed.

After another few minutes, Miles sighed and rolled up his sleeves before undoing the top two buttons of his shirt. It was one of Miles’s favorites, and Zach had witnessed him wear that red-and-white flannel countless times, but as they boarded the bus, he couldn’t help seeing it in a different light.

“You look like a total hipster,” he whispered in Miles’s ear after sitting down.

“What?”

Instead of answering, Zach subtly pointed to two other people on the bus wearing remarkably similar outfits. Miles laughed, and they spent the rest of the ride playing their own version of punchbuggy, nudging each other every time a red-and-white flannel appeared on the sidewalk.

“Portland’s perfect for you,” Zach said jokingly. “You’ve found your people.”

Miles chuckled and held his gaze. For a brief moment, his eyes sparkled, and a strange expression flashed across his features. Some combination of longing and excitement—or maybe Zach was seeing what he wanted to see. Because he wasn’t joking. He was certain that Miles would love living here, taste-testing scones from every bakery in town, strolling down sunny streets, and coming home to Zach at the end of the day. In another universe, Zach might have suggested it as an option.

In this universe, that scenario belonged right between aliens landing a spaceship on top of their bus and Zach’s dad coming for a visit to the city he’d referred to as a moral wasteland—firmly in the realm of never gonna happen. And not just because Miles went to college two states over. Miles’s parents had already outlined his entire life for him, and, not surprisingly, abandoning his life and moving to Oregon to live with his best friend was not part of their plan.

Being disappointed over fictional dream scenarios was pointless. Miles was here now, and he was staying for the whole summer. That was enough. They’d have plenty of opportunities to make memories, and Zach would concentrate on that instead of the vague sense of loss that hung in the air.

Oblivious to Zach’s internal struggle, Miles glued himself to the window, gasping in awe as they passed large, colorful murals adorning the buildings. As soon as Zach pulled the cord to signal their stop, Miles shot up from his seat, vibrating with anticipation.

“This is so cool,” he said after stepping off the bus and circling an arm around Zach’s shoulders.

And it was.