“There never really was any bet, at least not on my side. My friends were joking around, I think more to incentivize me to meet someone, but also play a joke on Marcus. If you knew anything about me, you’d know I’m the last person to play with someone’s emotions.”
“I don’t know you at all.”
“Then let me remedy that.” Zach placed a hand on Sam’s arm. “I’m so far out of my comfort zone here. I’ve never gone after a man; I’m not that type.”
That caused Sam to stop in his tracks in the middle of the sidewalk. “Yeah? So why me? I’m nothing special. Why pick on me?”
Damn if Zach wasn’t blushing bright red, and damn himself if Sam didn’t find that a huge turn-on.
“I—I can’t explain it. There’s something about you that makes me feel safe,”—Zach licked his lips, and Sam couldn’t help but be drawn to Zach’s mouth, remembering its taste—“yet crazy reckless at the same time.” He whispered so the passing parade of young mothers with strollers wouldn’t overhear. “Chasing after a guy, following him—I can’t believe I’m doing this. But I haven’t been able to get that night out of my mind. Maybe it makes me a loser for telling you this, but I’m not a player.”
Zach raised his eyes to meet Sam’s, and Sam knew the other man spoke from his heart. “It’s funny that I’m a man who’s made millions creating a dating app, yet I’m the least likely man to have someone else want him.” He shuffled his feet and kept his eyes averted. “But you did and we hit it off so well. I’m very sorry I ran out on you that night. It was wrong, no matter why.”
“So you didn’t go to Marcus’s club?” Inching closer to Zach, Sam could see the sweat prickling Zach’s brow and sense his vibrating tension. “Why did you run off?”
Six dogs strung together on their leashes pushed past them on the sidewalk, their cold noses bumping against Sam’s ankles. This was not a conversation for the public street, he guessed. Eyeing Zach, noting how his eyes darted side-to-side and his face remained tinged with pink in the aftermath of his furious blush, Sam let his instincts take over and decided to give Zach one last chance.
“Want to come back to my place where we can talk with more privacy?”
“Yeah?” The tentative smile of hope on Zach’s face sealed Sam’s belief that Zach was now telling him the truth and relief flooded through him.
“Yeah, follow me.” Sam led the way down the block past the brownstones and neatly kept brick townhouses with beautiful gardens in the front, to the small one-bedroom apartment he rented. He’d always wanted a house, but on a cop’s salary he could never afford the prices the homes were fetching now. Twenty years ago yes, but he wasn’t thinking about planning for his future back then.
“Come on in.” He entered, tossed his keys in the bowl by the door and headed into the kitchen. “Want some coffee? I didn’t have a chance to finish mine at Caruso’s. As a matter of fact, I missed out on my cannoli.”
To his delight, Zach held up a white paper bag he hadn’t noticed before.
“Is that—?”
With a shy grin but a sparkle in his eyes Zach nodded to his unasked question and that prickly awareness of desire swept through Sam once again.
“I had her throw them in a bag before I ran after you; no way could I leave these babies behind.” Zach handed him the bag, and their fingers brushed; his grin faded, and he pulled away from Sam, a disconcerted look remaining on his handsome face.
“Um, well here you go.” And he retreated to the living room to sit on the sofa, staring off at nothing.
This was not the same man he met last month, Sam decided, as he filled his coffee pot. The self-confidence Zach carried with him during the conference had fled, leaving behind someone hesitant, not the cool, self-assured man he’d seemed then.
Sam was reminded of the time he and Zach had sat along the boardwalk, talking about people’s expectations of others, and how he too had pretended to be somewhat of a player, thinking to fit in with the lifestyle he presumed Zach lived. At that point, Sam’s only interest had been in getting Zach naked once again. Maybe he wasn’t so different from the man he accused Zach of being. All these thoughts flitted through his mind while he rummaged through his cabinets for mugs and a plate.
Zach hadn’t moved from his place on the sofa when Sam returned to the living room. If possible, he looked more uncomfortable than he had before.
“Here.” Sam handed him a cup with one hand and pointed to the plate with the other. “Have another one, ’cause if you don’t, I’ll end up eating them all.”
There were half a dozen cannoli and three fruit tarts on the plate. Zach gave him a pointed stare, and Sam huffed.
“Don’t judge. I have a sweet tooth. There are worse things in life.”
Zach said nothing; however, a brief smile crossed his lips as he raised his mug of coffee. He drank a few gulps, then, obviously coming to a decision, placed his cup on the coffee table and took a deep breath.
“Look, I’m a fail at personal relationships; that’s why I stick with computers. I was already going to Atlantic City for the conference, and the guys joked around and said I should find someone to hook up with. Somehow it turned into a bet involving Marcus not having sex, because if you know Marcus, everything with him revolves around him having sex.”
“So he’s the player.”
Finally deciding to take a pastry, Zach was halfway through crunching a fruit tart and took the time to swallow before answering.
“Yeah. I love the guy, but he is no one’s boyfriend, and never will be. But,”—Zach licked his lips, sweeping them clean of cream—“he’s also the best friend I’ve ever had and would never hurt me.”
Interesting. Sam sipped his coffee and said nothing.
