He did know how he felt. That's why she didn't need to ask him five bazillion questions to get to it. That one, if he answered, was enough. But Tracey had already rejected him once without caring what his answer was. And really if she didn't want him, it didn't matter how he felt toward her. They were friends, and he could still be her friend, have her as a friend. If that was what she wanted.
"Not denying it tomorrow would be a start," Zach replied, pointing out the rather obvious that had happened just earlier. Until he forced it out of her, Tracey had all but said it didn't happen. Even then, it had been along the lines of 'never happening again.' Not 'next time I'm drunk.' And if they did anything that night? What, would it be the same thing? Tracey in denial unless drunk until she figured it out? He couldn't deal with that.
She had asked him. How he felt. Of course she was drunk, but she sure as hell would remember sober. And Zach wasn't sure how ready he was to throw himself out there when she hadn't done anything implying it would end in anything but heartbreak if he really went for it. Not putting himself out there was easier, less risky, less pain if it went horribly wrong.
"Ask me when you're sober," he replied, "if you want to know and talk about what both of us are feeling then, I'll tell you." He didn't know what he wanted her to say then, to do then. Because he wanted her. But fuck he hadn't put a provision in his not shagging to include this...mucky intermediate area where they had...sort of talked but not really. She had admitted to liking it because it as him but not to liking him.