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His warm palms wrapped around my biceps. “Really happy you made it tonight,” I said breathily.

“Yeah,” he replied.

“And I appreciate what you said to me,” I added, wanting to get it off my chest. Building up my nerve to ask him out. “I was thinking—”

“Huh?” he asked as a soft melody played next.

I stopped his hands, gripping them tightly as we swayed to the tempo.

He hesitated for a second before giving in to the slow dance.

My heart raced as he laid his head on my shoulder.

His cologne was woodsy and comforting as I inhaled, exhaled.

This guy knew me because I’d let him in.

If I was brave enough to do that, then I could ask him out.

“Mason,” I began in a whisper, “do you wanna maybe—”

“Get out of here?” he finished, looking up with a devilish grin. “Only if you don’t break any more garden gnomes.”

“Not that,” I said with a laugh.

“We could go to your place, then,” he suggested. “And I’ll even promise not to get you grounded.”

“Wait.” This was not going how I’d expected, and I tried to get it back on track. “I know we’re doing this backward, the whole hooking up first before we got to know each other.”

“I think we know each other pretty well,” he said in a husky voice. Then he leaned in closer. “I know you liked it when—”

“Do you wanna go out?” I blurted, blushing profusely. “Like on a date?”

“A date.” He stared like he hadn’t heard me correctly. I watched the excitement slowly slip from his face. “Zeke, hey, you’re a fun guy and all, but I don’t date.”

I stopped dancing, my feet glued in place. “You don’t?” He shrugged, and I felt the ick of embarrassment. “I thought we were…that you and I…” Have I been misreading the signs?

“It’s that I have too much going on,” he explained, hands falling away. Our bodies were too close together, and I took a step back. “But we had fun that night, and we can have fun again, if you want.”

I blinked several times as his words sank in.

As I realized it was almost the exact thing I’d said to guys before.

As it hit me that I’d misjudged him. He was officially Z-stepping me.

“Fun, yeah,” I said weakly, taking another step back.

“I’ll be back, I just…uh, need to be somewhere else right now. ”

“Come find me,” he called as I turned, “and we can get out of here.”

The banquet hall had felt huge hours ago, but now the walls were closing in. Had I misconstrued everything he’d said? Everything he’d made me believe about myself?

I passed by the QSA table in a near run, and the sound of my name slowed my stride.

Cohen asked if I was okay. But I only caught every other word between shuddering heartbeats.

I couldn’t deal with more uncertainty after what’d just happened.

With a sharp shake of my head, I kept moving toward the exit.

The night air was heavy, the humidity pressing down on me as I leaned back against the deck railing.

All I’d intended to do was collect myself.

Let the wave of emotion roll off me so I didn’t start crying.

Get my shit together and pretend it hadn’t bothered me.

Yet thirty minutes had passed, and I could see through the window that Mason was already dancing with someone else.

I knew I’d have to go back inside at some point and talk to him. Every time I tried to, though, I couldn’t. The level of stupidity I felt rooted me in place. So this is what it feels like to have your feelings danced around?

The party was in full swing, and people were still arriving.

However, I was ready for it to be over. To take Mom’s SUV back home and exchange it for my dirt bike.

What I needed was to ride the streets and forget everything—Mason’s “let’s just be friends with benefits” letdown and Cohen’s mood shift and Sawyer’s anger.

Voices drifted up the lodge’s steps, and I gave a weak smile as more guests arrived.

It was as pathetic as I felt. They passed me on their way inside, and music briefly echoed into the night.

As soon as the door closed, I dropped the pretense and ran a hand through my hair.

Who was I kidding? There was no way I could go back in there and pretend to be okay.

I broke out in a nervous sweat at the thought, my button-up sticking to my back. But I couldn’t leave either.

The music got louder again, and I looked up. Cohen was standing there with an unreadable expression. His face was tense, head downturned. Fucking hell, I griped as he shuffled his feet. I can’t handle whatever his deal is now.

“Zeke?” he said, worry deepening the line between his brows. “Are you okay?”

“I’m just, uh…” I tried to think of an excuse, but my brain was too exhausted from the emotional somersaults. “I needed a break.”

I turned my back to him, hoping he’d take the hint, and leaned my forearms on the deck railing.

The forest surrounding the lodge was eerily still in the moonlight.

With no breeze, the June heat was stifling and thick.

A bead of sweat rolled down my temple while I waited for the door to open.

For him to go back inside so I could be alone.

Instead, he leaned up against the railing beside me without saying anything. I studied him as he looked out at the preserve. The moonlight dappled across his hair and face, over the slight bump in his nose, over his full lips. He swallowed, throat bobbing, and then caught my eye.

“You were, uh, you were dancing with Mason Bedolla.”

The reminder was like a knife twisting in my side, and I let out a ragged breath. “Unfortunately,” I muttered. My hands clasped and unclasped as he turned toward me.

“God, I can’t stand him,” he huffed with intense disdain. “Was he a dick to you?”

“No.” I shrugged, feeling embarrassed. Should I tell him? He evidently wanted to be on friendly terms now, and Sawyer wasn’t here to help me keep my shit together…I let out a heavy sigh. “I was a dick to myself for thinking he liked me.”

He blinked slowly, tilting his head. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“We’ve been messaging on Instagram for a while now, and I thought we were becoming a thing.”

“Wait…What?”

“Like asking each other questions, getting to know each other. And I could’ve sworn he liked me.” I chewed on my lip, my eyes threatening to tear up again. “I dunno, I’m stupid.”

“Zeke, oh my god.” Cohen shook his head, cringing. Red erupted up his neck and spread across his face. “You thought Mason fucking Bedolla—”

“I get it.” I cut him off. “Y’all obviously have history, and you hate him now.”

“That’s an understatement, but you’re wrong—”

“I know, and I’m sorry for making this awkward for you.” I chewed my bottom lip, trying to find the right words to say. “It just felt good to have him care, I guess. It feels like I can’t talk to anyone lately.”

“It’s not…” He trailed off, blinking too fast. His face scrunched up in confusion. “Wait…What do you mean?”

“Just that it’s been really hard with my dad, the divorce, and now Sawyer is mad at me even though I’m trying my hardest to be the right kind of gay. It’s so much damn pressure, and having Mason to talk to helped make it easier, I guess.”

The sound of chirping cicadas filled the silence between us. Cohen stared down at his feet. Then he cleared his throat roughly, not looking at me. “You don’t have to prove yourself to anyone to be worth something,” he whispered finally. “There is no right kind of gay.”

“Says the guy who told me I was a bad gay,” I pointed out.

“I was wrong.” He glanced up at the forest and grimaced as though it pained him to admit. “You lit a fuse in this town, and now everyone is raging in the best possible way.”

His throat bobbed again, and the moonlight illuminated the softness in his brown eyes as our gazes met. It was a glimpse into the past. Standing in front of me was the boy who I’d met in the town square—and he saw through my hard-ass disguise.

“You spoke up and did something,” he added in a thick voice. “The people in this town are listening. They’re rallying behind what you’ve created. I hope you’re proud, Zeke.”