by Hayes, Lane
“I’m still a hopeless dork, huh?”
“Don’t change.” Zane leaned forward. Close enough that I could see flecks of gold in his blue eyes. “I like you this way.”
I paused for a moment, torn between the instinct to move away and my need to know I wasn’t alone here. Zane set his hand on my cheek and brushed his nose against mine. We’d never been this close before. I could feel his breath on my lips and smell the faint scent of beer. It may not have been my drink of choice but suddenly, I had to taste it. I tilted my head slightly and pressed my lips against his. It was a feather-light connection. Sweet but not so innocent. There was power here. I could feel the spark of primal recognition. And I immediately panicked.
I pulled back with a start and shifted sideways on the sofa before glancing down at my watch. The numbers collided then blurred. I stood abruptly and mumbled something about being tired and getting up early for work the next morning. Pure lameness. If I wasn’t so uncomfortable in my own skin, I would have laughed at myself. Presidents of multimillion-dollar companies didn’t act like this. Did they?
Zane caught my elbow and stopped me before I reached his door. “I’ll see you Saturday.”
“Saturday?” I repeated.
“We have a date, remember?”
Fuck. Nick’s engagement party. “Yeah, but…we don’t have to go—”
Zane flung his door open with a flourish and smiled. “Text me the time, Sch—Eric.”
My face felt warm as I returned his grin with a megawatt smile of my own. I couldn’t help it. Zane was hard to resist. I saw a hint of reassurance in his expression and I clung to it like a lifeline. He made me think it was perfectly fine to be confused as hell.
Chapter 3
The engagement party was held at an exclusive yacht club in Tiburon. The area was a wealthy enclave located on the opposite side of the Golden Gate Bridge that boasted stunning views of the city and the Bay. I shook the ice loose in my glass as I stole a peek at the glittering lights of the San Francisco skyline while feigning interest in some long-winded story the father of the bride to-be was telling. It involved a yacht race, which usually would interest Zane, but he seemed distracted. Like me.
I spotted Josh and Grant chatting with a couple of Lisa’s friends at the end of the terrace. I took a sip to hide my smirk. No doubt Nick hadn’t informed his fiancé that his closest friends were gay. Technically Josh was bi, but he hadn’t dated a woman since we graduated eight years ago. And Grant was…Grant. He was a Canadian underwear model-slash-designer who was honestly one of the nicest people I’d met in college. While Josh was more like me—kinda goofy and ordinary looking, Grant was stunning, well-spoken and a little shy. As usual, there was a bevy of women surrounding him, hoping he was single. I was tempted to join them and maybe shake things up by putting my arm around one of them and introducing myself as the boyfriend.
But I didn’t want to leave Zane. I felt compelled to be close to him though I knew he didn’t need me to navigate a conversation with Don Carrigan. He was perfectly at ease talking about boats, but I sensed he wanted me near, too. I studied his profile, thinking he looked exceptionally handsome tonight in his well-tailored charcoal-gray suit. He was a welcome contrast to Lisa’s red-faced, heavy-set, white-haired father. My gaze traveled over Zane’s broad shoulders and his clean-shaven square jaw. I loved the way his hair brushed the collar of his perfectly-pressed, light-blue oxford shirt. And damn…he smelled amazing. I didn’t think Zane was a cologne guy. Surely it was something I would have noticed over the years. Or recently.
“His luffing technique wins races, I tell you,” Lisa’s father exclaimed with a snort. “I can’t decide if that’s good or bad, but he’s nowhere near the helmsman you are.”
“Thank you, sir. I appreciate it,” Zane responded graciously.
Mr. Carrigan patted Zane’s back in a true “good ol’ boy” fashion. “I want to sponsor your team next season, Richards.”
“That would be fantastic, sir.”
“The pleasure is mine. I want to back a winner and you’re the best. I’ll have my secretary call you.”
Zane looked pleased. “Great. Thank you.”
Don turned to me with a wide grin. “I hope to see you on the water more often next year too, Eric.”
“I’ll be there,” I lied, raising my glass in a salute.
“Excellent. I’m going to get myself another before the speeches start. I believe you’ll be up soon, Eric. Lisa’s Maid of Honor is a dear girl, but she’s emotional. We’ll only be able to understand every other word in between the tears. It will be nice to cap off a lovely party with a truly gifted orator. See you inside, gentleman.”
“God, he’s a pompous prick,” I grumbled as the older man lumbered away, stopping to slap backs and glad-hand like a seasoned politician as he made his way to the bar next to the French doors.
“I have to like him. He sits on the board at this club and a couple others in the Bay Area. It’s best to stay on Carrigan’s good side. But he’s really not that bad. Tonight he’s just excited his daughter caught a big fish.” Zane’s tone carried the perfect amount of snark. A little bite with no real malice.
“Hmph. So are you really the best helmsman, Richards?”
“Aw. Don’t make me blush, Schuster,” Zane teased, nudging my elbow playfully.
“I bet it’s true.”
Zane stared at me for a long moment with an intensity that made me feel like a butterfly pinned to a board. It was a poignant look that bordered on inappropriate. I licked my lips nervously and tried to think of something to say. Zane beat me to it.
“When was the last time you went sailing?”
“Drinks on your boat two weeks ago.”
“We didn’t sail. We drank. I’ll take you next weekend. You could probably use a lesson or two.” He chuckled when I groaned theatrically. “Hey, it’ll be fun and…I’ll buy you dinner after.”
“Like a date?” My attempt at humor fell flat, which wasn’t really a surprise. I’d been awkward as fuck all night. I opened my mouth to hopefully remedy my miscue, but Zane was smiling at me now. I couldn’t think straight.
“Yeah. Exactly like a date. What do you say?”
“I’d love to,” I said in a soft voice I didn’t recognize as mine.
We held eye contact, letting the hum of conversation, laughter and music provide a mellow soundtrack for our private bubble. There was no graceless maneuvering here. It felt natural. Right.
“Hey! Are you guys ready for a refill? I’m gonna head to the bar while Grant flexes his muscles for the bridesmaids. Whoa! Eric, is that a big-boy drink? Looks like a vodka tonic.”
My head snapped sideways as Josh joined us. He elbowed Zane aside before grabbing my drink from my hand and finishing it in one gulp. I scowled at him but didn’t retaliate the way I usually would. I was in a strange state of panic wondering if I’d give myself away. I cleared my throat noisily.
“Yeah. They go down faster than wine and with less dire consequences than multiple shots of tequila,” I said, hooking my arm around Josh’s neck.
I squeezed hard enough to get a reaction. Josh sidestepped out of my reach with a frown as he patted his unruly wavy brown hair into some semblance of order. “Geez, someone’s feeling feisty. Back off and don’t muss. The second we can make a clean escape, we’re heading back to the Castro for the party I was telling you about.”
“You didn’t tell me about a party.”
“He told me.” Zane glanced toward the open door. “I think we have other plans.”
Josh made a funny face. “What other plans? Let me strongly advise you not to stay here. This is a party in name only. There’s a dress code, no deejay, and everyone is talking about grown up things, like their fucking day jobs. I don’t want to be an adult on a Saturday night after ten. I want to go somewhere safe and make bad choices. You in, Er?”
“Uh…no. I’m going with Zane.”
Josh cast an incredulous look betw
een us that quickly turned suspicious. “That sounds…secretive,” he observed.
“It’s not. We—”
“We better go inside.” Zane interrupted, pointing toward the door. The incessant clinking of glassware was the party’s cue to gather for a round of toasts. “They’ll be looking for you to do some fabulous orating, Schuster.”
I gave a half laugh. “You just managed to make that sound like a nasty sex act.”
“It’s my evil specialty,” Zane said, waggling his eyebrows. “Get this over with so we can all get the fuck out of here.”
Josh nudged my arm as I turned to follow Zane. “What’s going on?”
“What do you mean?” I fucked up my nonchalant delivery by whispering.
“You and Z are being weird. Are you—”
“Shh! No. We’re fine. Nothing’s weird.”
“O-kay…except you’ve got a death grip on my wrist. Chill-ax, man. I’ll get nosy later.” Josh pointed toward a group gathered near a sweeping staircase before giving me a lopsided smile. “Go on. It’s time to be fabulous.”
Don hadn’t been exaggerating. I really was great at giving a kickass speech. I probably had my parents to thank for my gift of gab. They were both prominent lawyers who’d insisted my brother and I join our high school debate team to get comfortable with public speaking. I hadn’t liked the idea but I was grateful now. At EN Tech, Nick was the idea man. He was a technology and engineering genius who could be articulate one moment and then frustratingly vague the next. My job was to communicate his concepts and run a company based on his expertise. Giving a toast in front of a hundred guests at a stuffy yacht club was nothing after years of selling our company’s services to Fortune 500 firms.
By the time the congregated friends and family members raised their champagne flutes to congratulate the happy couple, there wasn’t a dry eye in the house. It didn’t matter that I didn’t believe a word I said. Tonight, the truth wasn’t welcome. No one wanted to know I thought Nick was an asshole for asking a woman he didn’t love to marry him to solidify a business relationship. Nor did anyone want to know I thought they’d last six months, tops. My duty wasn’t to give my opinion; it was to wish my friend, my partner and my former lover the best of luck. So I did.
Nick wrapped me in a bear hug after I’d kissed the bride-to-be. I hoped when he pulled away I’d see the same starry-eyed emotion I had in Lisa’s expression. No such luck. He looked the way he had when we’d finalized the Bayline Solar deal a few days ago. Not the way I imagined a man in love did when his friends and family gathered to celebrate his engagement to the person of his dreams.
Maybe that was when I realized I had to let go. I couldn’t fix Nick. He was in charge of his own life. I could finesse his business plans and sometimes clear the debris he left with sharp words and his occasional bouts of lackluster interpersonal skills, but ultimately I wasn’t responsible for his happiness.
But I was responsible for my own.
I had a sappy smile on my face when I felt a hand on my shoulder from behind as a server came by with dessert. I plucked a cookie from the tray and broke it in half before turning to offer a piece to Zane.
“Want some?” I brought it closer to his mouth when he didn’t grab it and added, “I think it’s salted oatmeal.”
I leaned in just as Zane did so we stood nose to nose in what probably looked like an intimate pose. He stared at the cookie then at me before lifting my elbow and eating from my hand.
“I’m ready when you are,” he whispered.
It wasn’t easy to make a clean getaway with so many friends around. We said good-byes separately and met at the valet kiosk twenty minutes later. We didn’t speak. We let the flow of conversation and laughter from the party float between us until my BMW appeared. Zane hurried to tip the attendant before taking a seat behind the wheel. I glowered at him but didn’t put up a fight. He’d gone from the last one standing at any college party to being our self-appointed designated driver whenever a group of us was together and there was drinking involved.
We drove in silence for a while. My stereo system was supposed to sync automatically with my phone but I’d been having problems with my Bluetooth lately. I pulled my cell from my pocket to reset it when Zane finally spoke.
“Good job up there.”
“Thanks, but it was no big deal. I’m turning on my music and I don’t want to hear any complaints, got it?”
“Great. Just don’t pick anything that’s gonna put me to sleep.”
“Paul Simon or Celine?” I swiveled in my seat in time to catch his eye roll. I snickered at his pained expression and used the levity to admire the strong lines the evening shadows cast across his handsome face. Damn, he looked hot tonight.
“Paul Simon is cool. But no Celine. I’m serious. You’ve got a music collection most people twice your age would envy.”
I chuckled and then adjusted the sound before sitting back in my seat. “It’s not that bad. Give me a short playlist and I’ll add some of your songs to spice things up.”
“You really want to listen to Guns N’ Roses?”
“No. But I will for you. What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“No reason. So are you all right with everything? I mean…about tonight.”
I glanced at Zane again, surprised by the touchy-feely question. “I’m fine. But…those two don’t stand a chance. It’s not my place to say or do anything to dissuade Nick. He always does what he wants anyway.”
“You wished them a long and happy life together. That’s all you can do. The only reason I know you didn’t mean it was because you didn’t say Mazel Tov.”
“Huh?”
“You’re a nice Jewish boy, Eric. A heartfelt Mazel Tov at a celebration is practically compulsory. Nick’s one of your best friends. Even if he’s not Jewish, he ranks a Mazel Tov. You didn’t say it because you wouldn’t have meant it,” Zane said matter-of-factly.
I furrowed my brow, unsure how to respond. He was right, of course. But it was a funny detail for him to notice.
“I want Nick to be happy.” I shrugged, then let my gaze wander to the city lights twinkling across the water in the distance. “Lisa is a sweet girl. I wish her well too. But…he doesn’t love her.”
“I know.”
“It’s obvious, isn’t it?”
“Not necessarily. Everyone was there to celebrate a pretty young couple’s bright future. I don’t think they paid attention to anything more than what was on the surface. I know Nick, but even if I didn’t know the backstory, I’d have noticed they aren’t in tune with each other. You can tell by the way they move, talk. They don’t lean in.”
I was about to ask what he meant when he turned off at the viewpoint exit just before we reached the bridge. “Where are we going?”
He didn’t answer. He drove around the bend and parked the car at the farthest end of the lot away from the lights. The view at eleven p.m. facing the Pacific Ocean with only a crescent moon behind us was infinite darkness. It was hard to see where the horizon divided the sky from the water. Zane turned off the engine and opened his door.
“Come with me.”
I watched him move to the front of the car before stepping into the cool night to join him.
“It’s fucking freezing out here, Zane. What are you up to?”
He slung his arm over my shoulders in a companionable gesture then pointed to the abyss below.
“This is what I meant.”
I looked out at the view of city lights before turning back to the dark ocean. “Are you okay? You’re acting kind of weird.”
Zane chuckled. “You think everyone is kind of weird. Listen, I’ve been surfing all my life and sailing for years, too. There’s nothing like water to teach you the significance of an elemental push and pull. If you’re on a board or on a boat and a wave rises to your right, you have to lean in to meet it or you’re fucked. You’ll crash or you’ll get swept in the wash. You have to adjust your sail constantly
to try to find the wind or you won’t go anywhere. Leaning in, not against, is how you find rhythm out there. And when you master it, there is no better feeling. It’s hard work, but it’s worth the rush of being in harmony with something bigger than yourself. I think the same construct applies to relationships.”
“Who are you and what did you do with Zane?” My voice was raw with what was either reverence at his spiritual soliloquy or the effects of the cold.
He moved his hand up and down my arm and tightened his hold. “I guess that was a long-winded way of saying Nick and Lisa aren’t in harmony. They won’t navigate well. That’s all.”
“I agree, but I can’t worry about it. I’m his friend, not his keeper.”
Zane squeezed my shoulder until I looked up at him. “So you aren’t harboring an old crush on the guy and hoping he dumps her at the altar for you?”
“Fuck no.” I snickered at his deadpan delivery, burrowing against his side for warmth. “I’ve moved on.”
“Good. Who are you crushin’ on now?”
I wrapped my arms around Zane’s tapered waist and fluttered my eyelashes as I glanced up. “You.”
I expected him to laugh, push me away and maybe call me an idiot for my drunken flirtation. After all, we were the kind of old friends who could push the envelope and know when the other was joking. But he didn’t laugh. He went eerily still for a long moment. Then he released my shoulder and tilted my chin so I was forced to meet his gaze. That subtle shift didn’t seem so subtle anymore. Nor did it seem mysterious. It was a giant wave of desire, lust and need.
The wind whipped up around us with enough power to make my breath hitch, stopping my forward momentum just before I threw my arms over Zane’s neck. It gave me pause to consider whether or not I was about to make a huge mistake. I could back up and blame my slutty side on the three vodka tonics I’d had earlier. He could pretend to believe me and we’d go back to normal immediately. Or I could do what I really wanted. I could lean in and hope he met me. I inched forward and looked into his eyes as he grazed his fingers along my jawline. We stayed locked in a surreal standoff of sorts with a primal energy buzzing between us until Zane crashed his mouth over mine.