Page 62 of All the way home

Aware his cheeks are flaming and probably going pink, Zach changes the subject. “What about you?”

“My first real kiss?” When Zach nods, Kieran sighs. “It wasn’t really anything special. Went to a party, got a little smashed, made out with one of Rena’s friends. Terrible drama ensued.”

“Whoa. Whoa. I feel like you’re missing a few steps there.”

With a sly smile, Kieran backtracks. “Okay, okay. Fine. So Rena’s not that great at keeping secrets from me.”

Nodding, Zach bites into his burger, glad Kieran’s eyes are on the ceiling instead of him.

“So apparently, her friend Oscar was into me, and he told her so, and she waited about forty-five seconds before she told me about it. I don’t know—she says she didn’t think it was a big deal.”

Zach raises an eyebrow. “But it was?”

“I mean.” Kieran gestures vaguely with a sweep of his arm. “I was freshly out. Like, I’d only started officially talking about it a few weeks before that, so the concept of a guy being publicly and vocally interested was a bit revolutionary.”

A feeling all too familiar. Zach smiles.

“Anyway, he wasn’t really my type, but, like, that wasn’t a concern, obviously. We were at the same party, I was tipsy, and when I drink I get a little . . .” Trailing off, Kieran waves a hand.

“Bold?”

Kieran nods.

“You seem like the sort.” Ignoring Kieran’s raised eyebrows, he pushes forward. “So, you confronted him?”

“In a sense.” At least he’s a little bashful about it. “There were not . . . many words involved.”

Laughter rips out of him, a sharp surprise. “Sounds like a good time.”

“It was a learning curve,” Kieran concedes. “Like, all things considered, not a good time. That aftermath wasn’t wonderful.”

“Why?”

Grimacing, Kieran shakes his head. “Let’s just say that I was young, and stupid, and potentially didn’t realize that it may have meant more to him than it did to me.”

Ah. Zach nods.

“I mean, these days he pretends it was no big deal, but Rena was furious with me afterward. So I learned that lesson real fast.”

“What lesson?”

An odd, unfamiliar curve in Kieran’s smile makes Zach sit up straighter. “Don’t kiss people unless I mean it, because otherwise it is, as I’ve been told, ‘a dick move.’ ”

“And you didn’t mean it because . . . ?”

“I told you.” As though he’s about to tell Zach a secret, Kieran leans forward. “He wasn’t my type.”

“Right.”

There’s something about the moment that tilts forward, leaves a question begging to be asked.

But Zach is, fundamentally, stubborn. So he will not ask, but he can get his head around making a statement. Statements are easy. Kieran can easily confirm or deny a statement.

“So,” he starts, cautiously. “You have a type.”

“If pressed?” When Kieran catches his gaze, he doesn’t let it go. And Zach should look away, but there’s something commanding about Kieran’s entire demeanor. “I’ve always been a sucker for dark hair and light eyes.”

A little shaky, Zach mumbles, “Ah.”