The One Between A Rock And A Hard Place
I knew Zac was getting sick of just how much time I was spending with Cade. Why it bothered him, I still didn’t understand, and I really didn’t feel like dodging any of his questions about it. Just to avoid his interrogations, I began planning our shopping trips earlier and earlier in the day, well before I knew Zac would have rolled out of bed. If I could return to the apartment before he was awake, too, then I would never have to explain where I kept disappearing. It was a genius plan, really.
Which is, of course, why it rarely worked. It seemed like my best plans were the ones that blew up in my face the most. It just wasn’t fair.
With only a few days left until Halloween, Cade and I had far more errands left than we should have. We just had so much fun shopping, I suppose, that we ended up not really accomplishing much. It all had to get done, though, so we spent the morning rushing around to shopping center after shopping center until we had finally checked everything off our lists. We celebrated that little victory with frozen yogurt, an indulgence I decided not to tell Zac about at all. He was already acting like a jealous little bitch. No need to add those delicious empty calories to the list of reasons why he hated me.
Once we’d finished our snack, Cade drove me back to my apartment and followed me up the stairs. I motioned for him to be quiet as I unlocked the door, since it was still early enough that there was a very good chance Zac hadn’t woken up yet. I knew what a grouch he could be if his sleep was interrupted even five minutes before he wanted to be awake. It was like poking a sleeping bear. Anyone with half a brain and even a shred of self-preservation would avoid it.
“Do you want a cup of coffee?” I whispered. “I set the machine to be ready… right about now, actually.”
Cade shook his head. “Nah, I’m supposed to meet some guys at the gym for a pickup game pretty soon.”
“Your loss,” I replied, pouring myself a cup of coffee. “Oh, we should pack up the margarita machine. I don’t think Ruby has one; she seemed highly jealous when I told her about ours.”
“Zac won’t notice it missing?” Cade asked.
I shook my head. “That would require him to actually open a kitchen cabinet once in awhile.”
Cade chuckled. “Well, alright. Let’s get it packed up—quietly—before he comes out of hibernation.”
Somehow, we did manage to get the margarita maker back into its box and loaded into Cade’s car without making a mess or a racket. I knew the smell of freshly brewed coffee would wake Zac up soon enough, though. After I finished my cup, I headed to the bathroom to freshen up a bit while I waited for him to finally stumble out of bed.
“Did I hear the door?”
I jumped, sending my toothbrush flying out of my mouth and across the bathroom. Somehow, Zac had managed to sneak up on me, judging by the fact that he was standing in the doorway and I hadn’t seen or heard him approach.
“Was someone here?” He asked, seeming irritated.
“Yeah,” I replied, picking my toothbrush up and holding it under the faucet. “Cade just left.”
“You two have another date? A little afternoon delight?” Zac snorted.
I rolled my eyes. “Do you even realize how jealous you sound?”
“Do you even realize how much I need to take a piss, and you’re just standing here, taking up the whole bathroom?”
“Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the cave,” I mumbled as I shoved past Zac. Once I was safely in the hallway, I plastered on a fake smile and motioned to the bathroom. “It’s all yours. Happy now?”
His only response was to slam the door in my face.
Since the conversation was effectively over, I headed back to the kitchen and poured myself another cup of coffee. If I didn’t take a nap before work, I was going to need a hell of a lot of caffeine to get through the rest of the day. That was the one big downfall to waking up so early, but at least it had been a successful trip—no matter what Zac had to say about it.
I was really running out of patience for his accusations. At first, they didn’t seem that different from his usual good natured teasing. Now that I had admitted that I wasn’t entirely straight, something about his demeanor had changed. That was the only thing I could think of that would cause such a sudden and unusual shift in Zac’s personality. What that meant, I wasn’t quite sure. There seemed only one logical conclusion, but he couldn’t really be jealous of Cade, could he?
I had just finished my second cup of coffee when Zac walked into the kitchen, looking slightly more awake but not any happier. He had, at least, brushed his hair and put on a pair of sweatpants. That was a step toward looking presentable, but only a small one.
“Coffee?” I asked as nicely as I could manage, holding up the mug I knew I was his favorite.
Zac grunted, and I decided it was a grunt that meant he would shove my face through the wall if I stood between him and his coffee for much longer; he was just as addicted to the stuff as I was, if not more. I quickly poured a cup just the way he liked it and handed the mug over, pulling my hand back before he could rip it off.
I watched nervously as he sipped his coffee, trying to figure out whether there was a good way to ask what his deal was or if it was better left alone.
“What?” Zac asked, his eyes narrowing. “Have I got something on my face, or do you just think I’m pretty?”
“You’re beautiful,” I replied, completely deadpan.
“And you’re avoiding my question about Cade. Why was here? Why have you been with him like every day since we met the guy?”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s such an exaggeration that I’m so not even going to answer it.”
Zac slammed his mug down on the counter, making me jump. “What’s the big fucking deal? I know you like dick now, so why are you still lying about what’s going on with Cade?”
“I’m not,” I replied. I was… just not for exactly the reason Zac thought I was. “Why does it even matter to you?”
“I just want you to tell me the truth,” Zac replied, taking a step closer to me. His chest was heaving, nostrils flaring—he was clearly getting angry, but it didn’t scare me. I didn’t want to encourage him, but I couldn’t seem to back down, either.
“Look, I know people keep calling us boyfriends, but we actually aren’t. It’s not like I’m cheating on you with him.”
“No one said you were,” Zac growled.
“I could have sworn I heard you say that…”
I braced myself for his response to that, which I feared would come in the form of his fist in my face. To my surprise, he only shoved me—hard, but still just a shove. It was such a wimpy response that I couldn’t stop myself from shoving him back. What followed was a stupid, childish shoving match, increasing in intensity with each shove. Even though there was truly nothing for us to fight about, I couldn’t help but match each of his shoves with a harder one of my own. I barely even noticed that I was being pushed backward until I collided with the refrigerator and found myself pinned between it and Zac.
The sheer force he used to shove and keep me there took my breath away, and seemed out of place for such a stupid fight. I had been joking every time I accused him of being jealous, but I was suddenly realizing just how right I’d been. He was jealous. Maybe I had been ignoring him a little, but there was truly nothing to be jealous of. I couldn’t explain that to him, though, and right then I was kind of scared to even try.
His nostrils still flared angrily, but there was something weird in his eyes, something I couldn’t quite place. Even though it was Zac, being in such close proximity with someone had a certain effect on me—one I hoped Zac didn’t notice. Surely that wasn’t what I saw on his face, though…
I gave him a half-hearted shove, but he had me pinned and wasn’t budging an inch. It was starting to freak me out, actually. I opened my mouth to say something, like perhaps “what the fuck are you doing,” but found that my mouth would do little more than hang limply, my breath coming harder and harder the longer I stared at Zac.
Before I could even grasp what was happening, he’d closed the gap between our faces, pressing his lips roughly against mine. I only had the vaguest recollection of our last drunken kiss, so vague that I wasn’t even sure which of us had started it, but this one… this one was entirely in focus. A part of me still wanted to shove him away, but I settled for grabbing fistfuls of his shirt and kissing him back even more forcefully.
As if our bodies weren’t close enough, Zac shoved himself against me even harder, pushing me back against the fridge in turn, and sending magnets crashing to the floor. The thought that he would no doubt leave them for me to pick up made me angry, and I funneled that anger into the kiss, letting my teeth scrape across his full bottom lip until he let out a low growl.
For a split second, I froze, certain that growl was a bad sound, a sign of anger. But no. It was a sign of arousal, and so was the obvious bulge in Zac’s pants pressing up against my thigh. My mind clouded over at that realization and almost refused entirely to process the fact that Zac was grinding said bulge against me.
This was not happening. Zac was not kissing me and enjoying it. It just wasn’t possible. Was I dreaming? I had to be dreaming. Maybe I’d fallen on the stairs and this was my brain’s way of dealing with the fact that I was lying on the sidewalk bleeding out from a massive skull fracture.
Somehow, that made more sense than the idea that Zac was actually turned on by me.
If I was dying, I decided that I might as well enjoy these last few delusional moments of life. I let my hands wander to Zac’s ass, pulling him against me and thrusting back against him—as much as I could in my limited space—at the same time. We worked ourselves into a feverish rhythm that, combined with the friction of my jeans against his sweatpants, had me certain that I was going to come soon.
And then he pulled away.
He shook his head and wiped his mouth, mumbling something I couldn’t quite make out under his breath.
“Zac…” I gasped out, but he ignored me.
Still shaking his head, he practically sprinted from the room. Seconds later, I heard the slam of what I guessed was his bedroom door. It made jump again, knocking even more magnets to the floor. I stared down at the mess. That looked real enough. The raging boner in my pants was pretty real, too. I was forced to accept that it was no delusion. Something very strange, and very sexual, had just happened between Zac and I—possibly even stranger than the threesome.