“That was before I met Isaac.”
I’m about to tell her that yes—Evan and I have plenty of chemistry—not that anyone could see that tonight, but Millie interrupts.
“Bailey,” Millie says, almost whining. “Sing a song with me. I wanna do a girl duet.” She slings her arm around Bailey’s shoulders and gets so close to her face, I’m afraid Bailey might bite her nose off.
“Ugh.” Bailey shrugs away. “Get off me. You’re so drunk.”
“Let’s sing ‘Florida!’You’ll be Taylor, I’ll be Florence.”
“I amnotbeing Taylor.”
“What’s your favorite song? I’ll sing it with you. Do you like Whitney?”
“I like the Indigo Girls,” she says.
If she thinks that’s gonna back Millie off, she’s dead wrong. Millie grabs at Bailey’s arm and tries to drag her out of the kitchen. “Oh my god! Harmonies! We’vesooogot this.”
“Goddammit, woman, let go!”
Millie’s eyes light up, and she leans in and whispers something to Bailey I can’t hear over the music. Whatever it is, it works.
“One song,” Bailey says, “My choice, and if you don’t know it, that’s not my problem.”
Millie squeals, and for whatever reason, Bailey allows her to pull her out of the kitchen. As I’m finishing the dishes, Isaac and Evan come in. Both their gazes seek me out, and some of the tension leaves my shoulders. It’s okay. Everything’s fine. I’m just being paranoid.
Evan crosses the living area with Apollo and goes directly to his room, closing the door behind him. Isaac comes up next to me, takes the dish I’m holding, and puts it into the dishwasher.
“Why’d you tell him we didn’t have sex?” I ask.
“I have no idea. It just came out like I’d gotten caught. I went into immediate denial mode.”
“You’re not sorry we did, are you?”
“Jesus, no.”
“Are you protecting him from something?”
“Deacon—I swear, it just came out. If you want me to tell him what happened, I’ll go tell him right now. Or you can tell him I lied.”
Some of the frustration of the night builds up again. “I don’t want to do that.” I’ve had three people—Ryan, Malcolm, and Miguel separately ask me if I was seeing someone. When I said I was, they asked why they weren’t here, and every time I was left speechless, answering with a shrug. Because they’rebothhere. Just not wanting anything to do with me.
I know all of that will change once our guests finally clear out, but Evan’s usually the one who forces me out of the kitchen to be social. Tonight—without him doing that—I’ve felt stuck. I even ate in here.
After a few moments of dishwashing with the opening notes of “Closer to Fine” filling the apartment, Isaac asks, “How long do these things usually go?”
“I think it’s wrapping up.” I nod toward Ryan and Malcolm not subtly making out on the couch. “Once they go, everyone else will, too.”
“Bailey said you’re conflicted about Evan. Anything you want to talk to me about?”
Talking is the last thing I want to do. “I just want to be alone with you,” I say. “Both of you. I think we need to be together more if you want to try to make this work.” It’s a subtle dig. Probably too subtle.
“It can’t only be about what I want,” Isaac says.
“Please try not to take me word for word,” I reply. “Trust me when I say I want this. Tonight’s just been…”
He waits for me to find the right word.
“You guys looked good together. Like a couple.”
