Page 29 of The Mechanics of Lust

“I’m not following myex-husband around, if that’s what you mean,” I answered. “I’m not quite that pathetic... yet.”

“That’s not what I meant.” A flicker of apology flashed through Zach’s eyes. “I’m just curious.”

I wasn’t so certain, but I let it go. “If you’re asking do I like being close to my still-good friend? Then yes, I do. We lost a child together, Zach. That kind of thing fuses a bond that’s hard to explain. It’s good to be able to talk and share some of those feelings with someone who understands completely.” I hesitated, then added, “But since Gil has Holden now, maybe I need him more than he needs me.” I huffed in self-disgust. “Maybe I’m more pathetic than I think.”

“I’m... shit.” Zach looked like he was going to reach out a hand but then dropped it. “I wasn’t implying that at all.”

“Maybe not, but in truth, the real reason I came down this way is because the job offer came at the right time.”

Zach muttered something that sounded like “lucky us,”andI almost laughed.

He was trying to act cool but I definitely unsettled him, and it was no leap to assume that was because of my idiocy in Gil’s kitchen earlier in the week. I’d chastised myself the entire flight back to Wild Run for crowding him against that wall.Jesus.What the hell had I been thinking?But at the time, he’d been so damn irresistible with his feathers all in a fluff and piss and vinegar in his eyes.

We stared at each other in silence, like we were taking stock of this new, awkward, not quite friendly but not quite so adversarial space we suddenly found ourselves in. Zach was beautiful, no doubt about it, and before I could stop myself, I leaned in and inhaled the fresh scent of his cologne.

He jerked away, his panicked gaze casting frantically around the bar to see if anyone was looking before landing back on me. “Don’t do that again.” He glared and I wanted to kiss him.

Instead, I simply smiled and said, “I apologise, but you are so fucking beautiful, it’s almost impossible to stop myself.”

His mouth dropped open and his cheeks flooded with red, all those cute-as-fuck freckles popping darker. “You’re crazy.”

I snorted. “Very likely. Enjoy the party, Zach.” I breezed past and felt the burn of his eyes on the back of my head all the way to the door.

* * *

The short walk home—with a fresh breeze in my face and a violet-blue Mackenzie sky tinged pink with the beginning of sunset—cleared some of the Zach fog from my head and allowed me to see how reckless I’d been.

I didn’t need Holden and Gil all up in my business, which they surely would’ve been if they’d caught that ill-considered performance of mine, and I was pretty sure it wouldn’t have been from any concern about me. Holden was protective of Zach, and I got it. But whenever Zach was close, common sense seemed to take a back seat. The man short-circuited every thought in my head. Go straight to jail. Do not pass go. Do not collect any brain cells along the way.

At least my bungalow made me smile, and as I wandered up the front path, I took a moment to appreciate its sweet lines and cream and black paint scheme. Gil had always been the character property enthusiast, whereas I’d tended more toward minimalist concrete and glass. But the bungalow’s careful renovation and the way the architecture fitted with the town and the landscape had won me over.

When I stepped through the front door, the gleaming polished floors and soft cream walls performed their usual magic, bringing calm to my restless mind. The whole space was... homely, something I’d sorely missed since moving out of the house Gil and I had shared what felt like a hundred years ago. The owners had rented it with most of the furnishing essentials intact, and although the style was surprisingly modern, the pastel colours and simple lines allowed character highlights to shine—the pretty floral tiled entrance, tall ceilings, and intricate plasterwork.

As I padded up the hall and into the kitchen, it occurred to me that I was probably nesting—for want of a better word—finding a safe space to lick my wounds and grow my wings again. Who the hell knew? Who the hell cared? It felt good. It felt right. And Lord knew there’d been little enough of either of those for too long.

Some days, I felt a long way from anywhere, maybe most days. Then there were days I caught a glimmer of a future. A future that included another family. Another chance at something more than simply existing. It was a fledgling thought, shocking when it first came, like the first spark that caught when you were trying to create fire. But it was a thought I’d never imagined possible only months before, and so I took it as a win.

I threw my keys and the packets of potato chips on the granite breakfast bar, opened some windows to let the day’s heat escape, and grabbed a light beer from the fridge. The sun was beginning to skim the horizon and the far wall of the bungalow was painted in apricot, the rest draped in lengthening shadows.

I carried my beer and a packet of chips into the lounge, switched on a table lamp, and turned the television to the cricket. I’d barely stretched out on the oversized couch when the low rumble of a motorbike came to a stop somewhere close by. A rogue thought flickered through my mind, but I cast it aside and thought of what my Wellington friends would say about my exciting new life as a single gay man on a Friday night in Oakwood.

I was still chuckling when a soft knock sounded at the front door. That rogue thought returned and my heart kicked up.No way. I sat my beer on the coffee table and headed down the hallway.

Through the stained-glass panel that ran down the centre of the door, I saw a figure waiting. I couldn’t make out who it was, but I could guess.

I took a deep breath and opened the door. “Zach?”

CHAPTERNINE

Zach

“Not. A. Word.”I shoved Luke back into the hall and up against the wall, kicking the door shut behind me. Then I did what he’d done to me back at the bar, only this time I made sure to touch him. I leaned in and ran my nose up the side of his face, inhaling his scent and drawing out a shudder that ran the length of his body.

He smelled so good. He felt so good. I drew back and ran my gaze over him, head to foot, trying for cool seduction and not like my heart was jumping out of my throat, which it so fucking was. He hadn’t changed clothes, still wearing that white shirt with the black buttons hanging loose over a pair of painted-on black jeans, the outfit oozing just the right balance of casual but making an effort.The ever-present black leather cord hung around his neck along with the green band on his wrist. But for the date or meet-up or whatever he wanted to call it, Luke had donned a black leather cuff with silver rivets that added a bad boy element, which nearly melted my briefs the first time I’d laid eyes on him in the bar.

When he left me there after calling me beautiful, it was all I could do not to follow him out that door. But I’d made myself stay. Made myself wait. He and I had felt so fucking inevitable from the first time we’d met that I’d wanted to at least plan how it might go, how I could have Luke and then walk away at the end without feeling... vulnerable. Without wanting more. I wouldn’t open myself up to be hurt like I had been with Holden.

Thisthing,whatever it turned out to be, had to go differently.

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