“He’s in the living room.”
Spencer didn’t stop for any reason. Not even to introduce himself to the hundredth guard he had never seen. He had to get to Zayn before they tossed him out. As he cleared the living room door, he spotted Zayn. Shirtless and with one foot on the table, Zayn stared out the window at the pool. The waterfall wasn’t going, leaving a clear view of the faux tropical paradise that was Zayn’s backyard. There was a glass of whiskey in Zayn’s hand and an open bottle on the table. There was quite a bit missing already from the bottle. Two vases sat nearby. One was brightly painted. The other looked barely passable. It made sense his vase would look as sorry as him.
“I’m a huge idiot.”
Zayn glanced his way. A small smile passed over his features. “Hey, baby.”
While Zayn had that patient look about him—like he planned to let Spencer slide again. Spencer couldn’t let that happen. He crossed the room. “I don’t even know what happened. One second I was loading the truck for tomorrow. The next, Jinx was there wanting to know why I wasn’t in class. I’m such a fuck-up.”
Zayn cocked his head to one side and eyed Spencer. After a moment, he set his glass aside and patted the spot beside him. “What do you think about learning how to make beer next?”
Spencer crossed the room and joined Zayn on the couch. He didn’t know how to react. “I don’t know if I’m cut out to learn new things. Obviously, I’m not very good at remembering to attend the classes.”
As Zayn leaned Spencer’s way, Spencer automatically draped his arm over Zayn’s shoulders so he could hold him. He pressed his lips to Zayn’s temple while Zayn explained. “That’s why beer-making is so perfect. We don’t need to take a class or anything. I can buy the stuff, and whenever you’re here, we can work on it. There won’t be any times for you to remember.”
Spencer’s eyes fell closed. He didn’t deserve Zayn. Spencer swallowed past the lump growing in his throat. “I picked the pottery thing. It seems only fair for you to pick the next new experience. Do you even like beer?” After all, Spencer had never even seen Zayn drink before tonight.
“Not really, no.”
A chuckle rose and stuck in Spencer’s throat. He shook his head. “It still blows me away that you once claimed you’re boring. You’re funny as hell.” He kissed Zayn’s temple again. “I’m so sorry. Nothing matters more to me than your happiness. I’m sure it doesn’t feel that way, though. You should kick me out.”
Zayn twisted and pressed his lips to the corner of Spencer’s mouth. Spencer took advantage and claimed Zayn’s mouth. Zayn hadn’t kicked him to the curb or even called him on his bullshit. Spencer felt like the luckiest bastard on the planet because he definitely deserved to be put on blast. He didn’t understand why Zayn put up with so much from him. Spencer wasn’t sure Zayn owed Spencer his forgiving nature. It had to feel like Spencer fucked him over on purpose, but Zayn never said as much. Spencer was an avoidance kind of guy. If Zayn didn’t want to fight, Spencer was more than happy to keep pretending he didn’t suck.
Zayn pushed until he straddled Spencer’s hips. The taste of whiskey coated Spencer’s tongue, sending him hunting for more. Maybe they could get drunk and fuck all night, then—hopefully—Zayn wouldn’t remember how Spencer ruined the first half of the night.
“Sorry to interrupt, but there’s a guy named Jinx out front who looks a hot mess. He says it’s important he speaks to Spencer.”
Zayn immediately climbed from Spencer’s lap. The irritation flashing in his features wasn’t lost on Spencer as he came to his feet. Still, Spencer knew Jinx wouldn’t show up here for no reason.
“I’ll be right back.” Spencer tried not to see the way he hurt Zayn again, or the accusing look Rocky gave him as he rushed from the room, but the building sense of unease had him scurrying outside.
Rocky was right. Jinx was a mess. His hair stood in every direction and he had obviously been crying. Spencer knew without even having to ask. Jinx’s mom was gone.
Zayn grabbed his bottle of whiskey and empty glass and headed for the kitchen. Rocky stayed hot on his heels. Since Zayn already knew Rocky was bursting at the seams with lectures, he did his best to avoid Rocky’s gaze.
After abandoning his glass, Zayn turned up the bottle. He wasn’t upset. Zayn couldn’t explain how he felt. Unimportant seemed a good place to start. He was highly aware that he was dead last on Spencer’s list of priorities. It hurt a hell of a lot more than expected, but he wasn’t angry. Mostly, he was unsurprised.
“How much longer are you going to let this go on?” Rocky asked, obviously deciding he was finished waiting for an opening.
Zayn swiped at his mouth, wiping away the whiskey that lingered on his lips. “I don’t know what you mean.”
To his surprise, Rocky stormed from the room before stamping back in, carrying the vases Zayn brought home earlier. He slammed them down on the counter next to Zayn.
“Take a good look at this bullshit right here, because this is the rest of your life. This is what you have to look forward to. Unfulfilled promises and silent rage. You will always do everything alone while he can’t finish what he starts and has random dudes showing up at your front door.”
Zayn eyed the vases but didn’t respond. Instead, he took another drink. He couldn’t say Rocky was
