Double Standards // ziam

Chapter 4

Rather than give him directions, Liam drove the car. A few blocks away he turned off Jefferson and pulled into a parking lot behind what looked like a narrow, renovated three-story brick house. The sign above the back door, made of dark wood with gold letters etched deeply into it, said simply, Tony's. Inside, the house had been converted into a dimly lit, charming restaurant, with dark oaken floors, tables polished to a glossy shine and copper pots and pans hanging artistically on the rough brick walls. Sunlight illuminated the stained glass windows, and red-and-white checked tablecloths added to the warmth and charm.

A waiter stationed near the door greeted Liam with a polite, "Good morning," then showed them to the only unoccupied table in the entire place.

An older waiter appeared at their table, greeted Liam with an affectionate pat on the shoulder, a cheery, "Good to see you again, my friend," and began to hand them huge, leather-bound menus. "We'll have the special, Tony," Liam said, and at Zayn's quizzical look, he added, "The specialty is French-dip sandwiches-is that all right with you?"

Since he had offered to buy his lunch, Zayn thought he was asking his permission to order something that cost more than a regular sandwich. "Please have whatever you like," he insisted graciously. "We're celebrating my new job, and I can afford anything on the menu."

"How do you think you're going to like living in Detroit?" he asked when Tony, who was apparently the owner, had left. "It's bound to be a big change for a small-town boy from Missouri."

A small-town boy? Zayn was puzzled. That wasn't the impression he normally conveyed to people. "Actually, we lived in a suburb of Chicago until my father died, when I was twelve. After that my mother and I moved to Fenster, Missouri-the town where she grew up. She took a job teaching music in the same school she'd attended as a girl. So you see... I'm not completely a 'small-town boy' after all."

Liam's expression didn't change. "Were you an only child?"

"Yes, but my mom remarried when I was thirteen. Along with a stepfather, I also acquired a stepsister two years older than me, and a stepbrother one year older."

He must have caught the note of distaste in his voice when he mentioned his stepbrother because he said, "I thought all little boys liked the idea of having a big brother. Didn't you?"

An irrepressible smile lit Zayn's vivid face. "Oh, I liked the idea of having a big brother. Unfortunately, I didn't like Lenny at the time. We detested each other on sight. He teased me unmercifully; he used me as a punching bag and stole money from my bedroom. I retaliated by telling everyone in town that he was gay-which no one believed because he turned out to be an absolute lecher! And well then I discovered I was the one who turned out to be gay and he took revenge by outing me to anyone who'd listen."

Liam chuckled, and Zayn noticed that when he smiled, his eyes crinkled at the corners. Matching to the warm golden tan of his face, his eyes were a warm chocolate brown. Beneath his straight dark brows and thick spiky lashes, they glinted with humor and keen intelligence, while his firm full lips promised excitingly aggressive male sensuality. Zayn felt the same delicious stirring of arousal that he had experienced the night before and cautiously lowered his gaze to the tanned column of his throat.

"What about your stepsister?" Liam asked. "What was she like?"

"Gorgeous. All she had to do was stroll down the street and the boys positively drooled over her."

"Did she try to steal your boyfriends?" Liam asked jokingly, so he wasn't affected by his admission just now about his sexuality.

Zayn's eyes kindled with humor as he gazed at him across the narrow table. "I didn't have many boyfriends for her to steal-at least, not until I was seventeen."