When they reached John’s car, Zack casually strolled around the back of it. He gasped at the make emblazoned in silver letters. It was an LS 600h L hybrid. Easily a $120,000 car, if not more. Zack strode to his door in a daze and had to convince himself to touch the handle.

After he got in, John gave him an odd look. “Everything all right?”

“Yeah.” He swallowed. “It’s just, you said your parents didn’t put you up in a mansion because that would be ridiculous, right?”

“More or less.”

“Then what’s with the car?”

John shrugged. “Well, they couldn’t have me driving around in any old car. What if someone they knew saw me?”

“Yes, of course,” Zack agreed. “That would be tragic.”

John graciously ignored that. He gave Zack his phone and an auxiliary cable. “You pick the music. We’ve got a bit of a trek ahead of us.” John backed out of the driveway and turned west.

Zack dutifully scrolled through John’s music library, looking for something that would fill the silence without being obtrusive. He settled on a jazz artist he vaguely recognized and set the phone down on the console as smooth music trickled through the speakers.

The corner of John’s mouth quirked up. “Good choice.”

They rode without conversation for several minutes, but it was far from uncomfortable. Zack watched the blur of trees and houses sliding by, punctuated by street corners and buildings. He was so absorbed in his thoughts, he almost didn’t notice when John reached for his hand and laced their fingers together.

“What’s on your mind?” John asked. He let go of Zack’s hand long enough to make a turn and then reached for it again.

“Nothing really,” Zack said. “It’s weird. There are so many things I should be thinking about. Like last night, or work, or how the hell I got so lucky as to go on not one but two dates with a man like you, but instead, my brain is just . . . quiet.” He glanced at John.

John’s cheeks were tinged pink. “You think you’re the lucky one?”

Zack smiled shyly. “Obviously. I’m almost scared.”

“Scared?”

“It doesn’t . . . I dunno, I guess I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. I still half expect you to turn out to be a serial killer, or for us to have nothing in common, or to wake up and discover it was all a vivid, incredibly obscene dream.”

“Stop worrying so much,” John said, brushing his thumb over Zack’s hand. “Believe me when I say I wasn’t expecting this to happen either. You’re not the only one who’s a little freaked out.”

“That actually does make me feel better.”