Zach chuckled. “I’ll take it under advisement.”
We finished putting away his clothes and moved to the boxes in the living room. I was about to open a box markedbooks, but Zach stopped me. “Don’t worry about those. I had built-in shelves in my old apartment, so I still have to get a bookcase for them.”
I looked over my bookcase. It was only half-full of books, with the remaining space taken up by knickknacks and random memorabilia. “I can make room in my bookcase for them. Most of the non-book stuff is junk anyway.”
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Yep.” I went about taking the extra stuff off the shelves and rearranging my books. It was a tall bookcase, so I put my books on the lower shelves and left the upper ones for Zach’s books.
I’d just finished reshelving the last book when I heard him walk up behind me. Without thinking, I turned from my position of kneeling on the floor and found myself facing Zach’s crotch. I nearly swallowed my tongue. My mouth started to water. I wanted to run my hands up his muscular thighs and over the promising bulge under his zipper. If I pulled down his zipper and pulled out his cock, would he let me taste him?
Zach shifted, and I was shocked out of my lust-filled daze. My gaze shot up to his and our eyes locked. I was expecting to see anger or at least annoyance, but instead, I saw something I couldn’t quite identify. Was it confusion? Desire? Both?
My cheeks burned fiery hot, and I cleared my throat. “I, uh, left you the top shelves since you’re taller.”
Zach seemed frozen for a second, but then he blinked and stepped back. His cheeks were pink, and his eyes were wide. “Thanks.”
I stood so I could get out of his way. “It’s all yours.” I headed toward the kitchen. “I’m going to get a beer. Do you want one?”
“Sure,” he replied.
By the time I got back to the living room, Zach had already put a lot of books up on the top shelf. I scanned the titles to get a sense of his reading preferences and saw J.R.R. Tolkien, Terry Pratchett, and David Eddings. “You’re a fantasy buff,” I said.
Zach smiled wistfully. “Yeah, I really like it. I started reading it in middle school. My best friend gave meThe Hobbitto read, and I was hooked.”
It was the first time Zach had ever mentioned a friend before. “Best friend? Do they still live around here?”
Zach shook his head and looked sad. “No. His family moved away when we were in eighth grade.” Deep frown lines formed on his brow. “Robbie was gay, and although he was only out to me and his family, the kids in school picked up on it. They would tease and bully him, but they left him alone if I was with him.” His mouth twisted into a grimace. “One day, when I was at baseball practice, four kids from our school cornered him and beat the shit out of him. I think they would have killed him if I hadn’t shown up and stopped them.”
I think all the blood drained from my face. “Oh my god. But it was just you against four other kids? How did you get them to stop?”
“I was already bigger than everyone in my grade.” He smiled. But it wasn’t a nice smile. “And I had my baseball bat with me.” For a moment, I saw the hardened soldier instead of the smiling, kindhearted man Zach usually was.
I blew out a breath. “Wow. So, what happened to him?”
His expression turned sad again. “Robbie had a concussion and a broken arm. His parents refused to send him back to our school, so they homeschooled him. Then, they sent him to a high school out of our district, Red Bank Regional. Then they moved to be in the district, and I never saw him again.”
“But didn’t he write to you or visit or something?” I asked. I felt so bad for Zach. He looked so sad.
He shook his head. “He said he would, but he never did.”
I impulsively hugged him. “I’m so sorry. That must have been so hard for you.”
He wrapped his arms around me. “It was. I never really had another friend like him. By the end of my freshman year of high school, I was working, and when I turned sixteen, I started working for Jeff. So, there wasn’t much time for friends.”
I stepped back. “Well, now you have me.”
The smile he gave me was full of affection. “Yeah, I do.”
We put away the rest of his books, which also included authors like Stephen King and Neil Gaiman. “We have some of the same tastes in books,” I commented, pointing to my copies ofThe StandandGood Omens.
“I see that,” he said. He crouched to look at my collection, and I squeezed my eyes shut. He pulled out my copy ofOriginby AJ Sherwood and Jocelyn Drake and read the blurb on the back. He looked at me and asked, “Is this a fantasy or a romance?”
“Yes?” I replied. “Although it’s kind of both fantasy and paranormal. And also, a gay romance.”
His eyes were wide. “I had no idea that was a thing.”
“Yep,” I said. “And they come in all sorts of sub-genres, just like hetero romances.”
