muscles automatically tensed at only the mention of his parents. “What about them?”

Zayn shrugged. “You take care of Jinx’s mom. What about yours?”

He fought the urge to say what he wanted. That she could go fuck herself. “I’m sure she’s fine.” After all, she could find any man she wanted to keep a roof over her head. Just like she had done his whole life, especially at his expense.

For a moment, Zayn stared at him expressionlessly, but he didn’t push. Spencer wondered if there would ever come a day when he didn’t look like the worst person on the planet to Zayn.

Spencer looked around for a place to set his drink. “Maybe dinner wasn’t a good idea.” He should have been happy with Zayn’s goodbye kiss and left things at that. It wasn’t like he would be any good at a relationship.

“Why?” Zayn sounded damnably calm. His peaceful tone made Spencer feel irrational. Zayn’s reaction made him stop and think, which was something he didn’t take a lot of time to do usually. Still, he didn’t know how to answer that question.

Zayn crossed the room and took Spencer’s drink from him. He set it on the nearest flat surface before towing Spencer into his arms. Zayn was strong and peaceful. It was mesmerizing. “You don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to with me. Just tell me you don’t like dredging up certain things. That’s fine. I’m just trying to get to know you. This isn’t an interrogation. I’d much rather you tell me to mind my business than to have you run away.” He kissed the corner of Spencer’s mouth. “Stay. Tell me happy stories.”

Spencer kissed Zayn, hoping to stay in his arms. Even though he was taller than Zayn, Zayn was huge. He made Spencer feel safe. Spencer didn’t feel quite so much like he was bumbling through life when Zayn wrapped his arms around him. He tried to think of a happy story for Zayn. Nothing came to mind. He didn’t think Zayn wanted to hear about the new set list he made, and that was all Spencer had going on. Spencer realized something. Just as Zayn claimed he was boring; Spencer was dull too. He wasn’t jet-setting or meeting new people every day. There weren’t any exciting moments to share. He woke up every day and worked on his art. No one wanted to hear about that. Spencer buried his face against Zayn’s neck and admitted as much.

“I don’t think I exist outside of music. You don’t want to hear about that nonstop.”

“Yes I do.”

With a laugh, Spencer took a step back. “You say that now, but you haven’t spent years listening to me drivel on and on about how I found a new mashup.”

Zayn didn’t crack a smile. He looked completely serious. “That’s exactly what I want. I should check our food.”

As Spencer watched Zayn walked away, a million thoughts and emotions washed over him at once. Zayn was literally a billionaire. He could afford a thousand chefs, yet he cooked for Spencer. Zayn claimed to be interested in Spencer’s work. Spencer had only been around people who told him he talked too much about himself—like talking about his music made him vain. He swung wildly between wondering if this was an act and hope. Spencer dangled in disbelief. With his mind raging with itself, Spencer wandered into the kitchen. One of four ovens stood open. There was a pan of food on the floor, and Zayn had his head on the counter with his hand under running water. Spencer dashed across the room, grabbed a potholder, and started picking up the mess.

“Holy shit. Are you okay?”

Zayn didn’t lift his head. “Yeah. I’m just dumb as hell.”

Spencer dumped the hot pan in the opposite sink. Zayn’s fingers were red, and the skin already bubbled in three places. Spencer didn’t try touching him. He pulled the phone from his back pocket and called a friend. Thankfully, Seth answered on the second ring.

“Dr. Black.”

“Hey, Seth. It’s Spencer. I need your help.”

Seth didn’t let him down. “You’ve got it. Are you home?”

Spencer shook his head, as if Seth could see him. “No. I’m at a friend’s house and he’s burned himself pretty badly. Can I text you the address?”

“Of course. I’m on my way.”

Spencer tried to stay calm as he disconnected the call and quickly texted Seth the address.

“Are we just friends?”

Zayn’s question might have felt heavier if Spencer hadn’t been in panic mode. “Yes, but I’m hoping you’ll forgive me for being stupid so we can be more. Who do I need to talk to so the doctor can get onto the property?”

Zayn still wasn’t moving from his spot on the counter, and that worried Spencer more than he wanted to admit. “There’s an intercom on the wall by the waterfall control panel. Press the button and ask for Rocky. He’s the head of security.”

Spencer quickly moved to follow Zayn’s instructions. He didn’t know how long it would take Seth to get here, but he didn’t imagine it would be long. He pushed the button Zayn described. “Hey, Rocky. We have an emergency.”

A dude who matched Spencer in height and Zayn in muscle appeared from nowhere like a goddamn ghost, sending Spencer’s heart racing into his throat. He was hard-looking and didn’t as much as blink as Spencer grabbed his chest.

“Goddamn. Where did you even come from?”

The dark-haired and green-eyed man didn’t waste time answering him. “You said there was an emergency.”

Spencer nodded. “Zayn burned himself pretty badly. I have a doctor on the way. Zayn says you’re the guy to make sure he can get onto the property.”

“What’s the guy’s name?”

“Seth Black.”

With a nod, Rocky headed for the door. “I’ll make sure he finds you.”

Spencer headed back to the kitchen, feeling confident Rocky would take care of things. Zayn wasn’t leaned over the counter any longer, but his hand was still under the running water. Spencer moved to stand at his side.

He stared at

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