“I can never have enough, baby. There are so many men yet to try in this city, there aren’t enough days in the week and hours in those days.” Marcus refilled his coffee from the thermal carafe. Zach watched Marcus as he took a sip without meeting anyone’s eyes.
“Besides, this isn’t about me today, we’re here for Zach.”
“What is this—an intervention?” Though Zach laughed, no one else joined in with him. “I’m fine, he’s the one you need to worry about,” he said, pointing at Marcus.
“Leave me and my sex life alone.” Marcus turned the conversation back on him. “I’ll tell you what needs to happen. Zach, you need to get out of that house. I love Cheryl; you know that, we all do.” There was regret in Marcus’s voice but also determination. He’d always vociferously argued against Zach living at home, insisting to anyone who’d listen that Zach should get his own apartment. “But no matter how much we love your mother, she’s killing your chance at fun and a normal sex life.”
“It isn’t always about me and my personal life. She’s my mother, and I’m all she has.” He toyed with his cutlery and waited when the waiter put down his steaming, fragrant plate of waffles, syrup, and fruit. “I can’t abandon her. It doesn’t bother me when she butts into my life. I’m used to it.”
“That’s the problem, don’t you see?” Though Julian spoke quietly and kindly, his face was shadowed with sadness. “You don’t even care anymore. It’s like you’ve given up on everything.”
“And I’m sure she wants you to have fun and be happy, not sit at home all alone every night doing whatever the hell it is that you do all by yourself.” Marcus stabbed at his eggs benedict. “Why do you think you’re abandoning her?”
Zach’s appetite fled, replaced by an uneasy sinking feeling in his stomach. “Can we stop talking about this now, please?” He doused his waffles in syrup, cut them into small bites and began eating without tasting a thing.
“No, as a matter of fact, we can’t. All these years we’ve let you do your thing and hide away, blowing us off on weekends or at parties. It’s gotten worse since you came back from A.C. You’ve barely talked to us about what happened there. Instead, you’ve hidden away even more. Are you ashamed of us?” Marcus held his gaze.
Horrified, Zach’s fork fell from his hand to clatter upon the dishes. “Don’t be insane. And yeah, I lost the bet in Atlantic City, but I didn’t want to tell you guys and have you teasing me about failing to score.”
“We’d never tease you. You know that, right?” Julian braced his elbows on the table, his green eyes dark with concern as he searched Zach’s face. “I, for one, can’t stand seeing you alone all the time, knowing you’d be happy with someone to love who loves you back.”
The air in the room closed in, choking him. Sam’s face rose before him, as clear and vibrant as when they made love that night, and Zach flushed hot and cold, from his sweating scalp to his toes which wouldn’t stop clenching inside his sneakers. What a mess he was. “I know. And nothing happened in Atlantic City. I’m okay. You all need to let it go.”
They ate their meal in relative silence, Marcus shooting him disapproving looks from under his dark brows, while Julian and Nick spoke quietly amongst themselves. Zach ignored him; there was never a point in engaging Marcus in a discussion since the man always thought he was right when it came to telling Zach how to live his life. Now that Julian had settled down into a life of domestic bliss, Marcus had no one to have fun with any longer, and Zach had a sinking suspicion he hadn’t heard the end of Marcus’s lectures and complaining.
Julian and Nick were deep in a discussion of their summer vacation plans, which involved renting a house by the beach and sailing. No longer hungry, Zach toyed with the idea himself of buying a house by the ocean—he and his mother could spend summers there, away from the oppressive humidity of the city. Wishful thinking, since she probably wouldn’t want to leave the familiar comfort of her house. Still, Zach remembered that night, walking along the water with Sam, and how it had been one of the most romantic times of his life. Desire pulsed deep in his groin, and he hardened, remembering Sam’s strong, sure hands and gentle kisses.
To Zach’s surprise, Marcus moved his chair close to him, sliding an arm around his shoulders. Zach flinched; Marcus’s touch felt wrong, out of place for the first time. Maybe because he’d been thinking about Sam and wished it was him and not Marcus. He thought he’d covered up his discomfort quickly, but not before Marcus pulled back to study his face. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m fine.” Zach drank his coffee and forced a smile. “See?”
“I’m sorry if I pushed before. You know I meant it with the best of intentions, right?” Marcus’s gaze anxiously searched his. “You’re not like me; you want that happily-ever-after bullshit like those damn movies you watch. More than that, you’re the one who deserves someone to love. For once you need to think about yourself and to hell with anyone else.”
Touched, Zach planted an impulsive kiss on Marcus’s cheek. “You deserve that too, for whatever reason you won’t admit. But I love you, and you’ll always be my best friend.”
To Zach’s surprise, Marcus didn’t laugh or make a joke. “I love you too, which is why I worry about what you’re doing with your life, why you hide away in that basement, never coming out with us or meeting anyone.”
“I, I don’t…” His weak protest failed to derail Marcus, who, now that he’d begun to speak, couldn’t stop.
“You do,” Marcus whispered, his lips close to Zach’s ear so his voice barely carried. “You do, and I don’t know why.”
That old humiliation reared up, squeezing Zach’s throat until it hurt to swallow. Nathan’s demeaning treatment lived like a parasite inside Zach, feeding off his insecurities. Every night he told himself to be a man, to get over it. Neither Julian nor Marcus would ever allow another man to hurt them, and Zach wished for even half of their confidence.
But Zach wasn’t like his friends; his limitations stared him in the face, mocking him with the impossibility of changing who he was. He could be on the cover of every magazine in this country, and it wouldn’t change a damn thing. In his mirror stared back the same nerdy, geeky Zach with the glasses slipping down his nose, the boy everyone laughed at when he couldn’t kick the ball far enough, and who didn’t curse or get drunk. The man who stood on the outside looking in, too shy to push himself on anyone. The last thing he needed was pitying smiles and attempts to persuade him what a wonderful guy he was.
Poised to answer, the smile faded from his lips and the words died in his throat when across the restaurant he met the eyes of an unsmiling Sam Stein.
Chapter Ten
Summerhaddescended on the city; the elusive promise of the sun dragged people from their self-imposed exile out to soak up the warmth they’d only dreamed about in February and March. The sky stretched before him endlessly blue, and the leaves barely rustled with the tiny breath of fresh wind rolling off the water. Only the madly chirping birds playing tag in the bushes and the children running through the sprinklers in the park with delighted screams were having fun. The rest of the living plodded along, dreaming of air-conditioning and a large iced coffee. Extra ice.
It’d been a long time since Sam had someone to share the hot days and sultry nights with. He didn’t think he’d miss it, but there was something to be said about holding hands and walking down the street with a lover. The last time he’d held anyone’s hand had been over a month ago, in Atlantic City, when he and Zach walked along the beach that one night they were together.
On his way to meet Henry, Sam couldn’t help but think, as he had done so many times since then, that it was only one night. How was it possible Sam couldn’t put that memory and Zach out of his mind? He’d spent nights with other guys before, playing the dating dance—why had that night, that whole weekend, stuck in his mind?
The buzzing in his pocket startled him for a moment until he remembered his new phone. Stupid technology.
“What?”
