Marcus’s face lit up. He grabbed Zach close and kissed him. “Well fucking hallelujah. Finally. Let’s make sure you get him, then.”
Strobe lights streaked, lighting up the dancers on the floor in garish colors, and Zach had a hard time tracking Marcus’s swaying body in front of him. He’d always been an awkward dancer, missing out on the rhythm of the music and shuffling around in a tight circle. Aiming a glance over his shoulder, Zach no longer saw Sam glowering by the edge of the dance floor where he’d been standing only moments before.
“This isn’t helping,” Zach yelled over the music. “I don’t see him anymore. Maybe he left.”
Marcus took Zach by the hand and dragged him past the bar and down to the front of the club. Sam was nowhere to be seen, and Zach’s confidence faded. “See, you were wrong. He wasn’t interested.”
“Bullshit. I’ve never been wrong; I know when someone’s interested.” Marcus looked around from side to side. “Ah.” His face lit up. “There’s our mystery man. Sam!” He waved, and Zach’s heartbeat ratcheted up. “Sam, over here.”
With a barely-there tilt of the head, Sam acknowledged them approaching. The tight-lipped grin on his rugged face failed to settle Zach’s racing nerves.
“Where were you going?” asked Marcus. “Zach was looking for you.”
“Oh yeah?” The disbelief in Sam’s voice was not to be mistaken. “Why?”
“To…to talk to you. I didn’t really get to speak to you this morning.”
When Sam said nothing, Zach talked faster. “It was good to see you again. I’m glad you took Marcus up on his invitation and came tonight.”
“Yeah, Sam,” said Marcus, his ever-present smile broadening. “Come on back and have a drink with us.”
Ignoring Marcus, Sam honed in on Zach’s face. “Funny, it didn’t seem as though you were glad to see me. You acted as though we barely knew each other. Is that because you didn’t want Marcus to find out that we’d met and slept together?”
Before Zach could answer, Marcus grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around. “You two hooked up? You didn’t tell us that. You said you barely met.” Marcus dug both his hands in Zach’s shoulders, and Zach winced.
“Hey, stop. That hurts.”
The next thing Zach knew, Marcus was on the ground with Sam standing over him, flexing his fingers. “Don’t you lay a fucking hand on him. I’ve met guys like you; smooth bastards, always putting people down who you think are weaker than you.” Zach stood rooted to the floor, still in shock that Sam had hit Marcus.
“Did he hurt you?” Sam stepped closer to Zach, eyes soft and voice gentling, its warmth touching Zach.
This could not have been any more bizarre to Zach; Sam defending Zach against Marcus? “I—I’m fine. Why did you hit him?” Old loyalties sent him kneeling by Marcus’s side.
“Are you all right?” He touched Marcus’s shoulder, hoping his friend’s famous temper would be held in check.
To his shock, Marcus pressed his fingertips against his jaw and laughed weakly. “What is it about me that first Julian’s boyfriend and now yours feels the need to punch me?” He stood, though remained careful to stay out of Sam’s striking distance. “I’m a nice guy, why doesn’t anyone see that?”
Ignoring Marcus, Sam faced Zach. “You’re actually concerned about him? He’s got you so fucked up in the head you’re worried if I hurt him, rather than the fact that he put his hands on you?”
“What the fuck is he talking about?” The muffled curse from Marcus behind him had Zach acting the peacemaker.
“Stop, both of you.” Zach stood in the middle between the two men, his heart thumping like mad. “Sam, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Marcus has never hurt me. Ever. He’s my best friend.” How had Sam come so close to the truth?
Sam’s eyes narrowed, his grim face set in stone. “Is that what you call it? My best friend doesn’t kiss and hump me on the dance floor.”
Zach attempted to explain. “We’ve known each other all our lives; Marcus is like my brother. I could never be interested in someone like him.”
“Hey, wait a minute,” protested Marcus. “There’s nothing wrong with me. What do you mean, ‘someone like me’?”
Zach quirked a brow. “Answering that question might take all night. May I continue my explanation to Sam?”
With a broad sweep of his hand, Marcus gestured to Zach. “By all means. First explain to Sam we aren’t dating, and that I’d never touch you.”
The doubtful expression on Sam’s face was worrisome. He’d already broken Sam’s trust by leaving and then pretending not to remember him. He had to make him believe.
“He’s telling the truth. Marcus would never think of hurting me. I don’t know why you thought what you did, but there’s nothing between us but a long-standing friendship. We’re total opposites, but that’s why we click. Please,” Zach entreated, fearing if he let Sam go now, it might be the last time he’d see him. Knowing, now that he’d seen Sam again, how impossible that would be for him to take. “I’m sorry I blew you off earlier, but,” he swallowed, his mouth dry and tasteless, “I’m glad you came by tonight, and I—I’d like you to stay.”
For someone as shy and unused to personal drama as Zach, these confessions of the heart both unnerved him and made him want to throw up. It was entirely possible that Sam would blow him off and walk away. So when Sam, after studying him and Marcus, cracked a smile and extended a hand, Zach both inwardly cheered and almost passed out from the stress.
