“That’s what I listened to in high school,” Zack said, “when I was angry with my parents. I still am, but I don’t live with them anymore, so the rage has dissipated a bit. These days, I prefer music that gets me pumped.”

“Interesting. We’re almost there, by the way.”

“Jesus, not to sound like I work for Lexus, but what a smooth ride. Do you live in an apartment or what?”

“My parents let me stay in one of their houses, actually. They used to rent it out, but when I started law school, I needed a place, so . . .” He shrugged.

“Is it a mansion?”

John looked at him askance. “You think my parents put one person up in a mansion? Our last name isn’t Wayne.”

“Sorry, sorry, I had to ask.” Zack glanced out the window. He didn’t recognize where they were, which meant this was likely one of the nicer areas. Any doubt was erased by the glimpses of manicured houses and rolling lawns.

“Where are we?” Zack asked.

“Atwater Village,” John answered.

Zack whistled. “That’s a good part of the city. I mean, it’s no Beverly Hills, but still.”

John shrugged. “Yeah, well, my parents wanted a place outside of Hollywood, and it’s closer to my school. Sorry if you expected better.” His tone was unmistakably bitter.

Zack’s insides squirmed. “I didn’t mean—”

“No, no,” John said, glancing at him again, “I’m the one who should apologize. I’ve always hated talking about money. Pretty hypocritical, right? I own nothing but expensive things, and then I expect people to ignore them. I’m sorry for being rude. I was mad at myself, not you.”

Zack reached over and put a hand on John’s knee. “It’s okay. I won’t mention it again.” He dragged his fingers along the cut of muscle that shaped his thigh. “Let me make it up to you.”

John shuddered and grabbed his hand before it could climb too high. “Tempting as that is, I’d really rather not crash this car. I have a hard enough time focusing when you’re not touching me.”

“I can respect that,” Zack said thickly, “but I suggest you pick up the pace, or we might have to pull over.”

John made a small sound and hit the gas. The car accelerated effortlessly. Within minutes, they were pulling into the driveway of a house.

It wasn’t a mansion, like John had said, but it was bigger than Zack’s apartment by far. It was one story, had large, arched windows in its face, and a row of trimmed hedges around the perimeter. A stone walkway, lined by flower beds and small trees, led up to the front door.