His voice trails into a pout when we all collectively burst out laughing.
“Dude, I don’t think your boyfriend was even alive when that came out,” Rook chuckles.
Kemper is sulking, peering at a grinning Dash, grumbling, “It’s not like I saw it in the theaters or anything…”
“You are way too cute, I can’t even,” Dash swoons through his chuckles, kissing Kemper’s neck. “Sexy old man with your old man references…”
Kemper growls, but now he’s grinning, and he and 101 are pawing at one another.
“I’ve seen it,” Kang chirps.
“Of course you have, love,” Trevel purrs, massaging 62’s shoulders.
Angel’s expression catches my attention once more… Because it’s visibly dripping in guilt, shame, and a little arousal—a look I’m highly familiar with. But the kid only seems to be giving it toThe Kemper’s.
Weird…
“Alright, can we shut up about the goddamn cartoon mouse for a second?!” Jasper barks. “We have very limited time to chat, and I wanna know how long homeboy here has been squatting in our house.”
Darcey is whispering something to Dr. Love, his eyes stuck on Angel.
“More likephrogging,” Hancock quips. “‘Cause we… didn’t know he was there.”
Jasper forces a scowl that widens Hancock’s smirk.
“Like I said, I wasn’t only in the mansion…” Angel mutters, eyes shining subtly.
I think he’s proud of himself… For having pulled the wool over our eyes.
But his revelation stops the chatter like a mic drop.
“So you were the girl?” Ren asks, blue gaze widened. “In the prison…?”
His face is giving away his love of sleuthing as he glances at me and we share a telepathic thought.
Angel was the girl Carson saw. Or rather,Ariwas…
The woman The Ivory was holding in that cell in the East.
Angel is just all kinds of flushed, fidgeting in place and playing with the hem of his sleeves, a very obvious angst oozing from him. And it occurs to me, as it did when I first sawAri…
“Hang on, I’m sorry… What are your pronouns please?” Trevel asks, beating me to the punch. “I didn’t ask you before, and we might be misgendering you right now.”
He aims an accusatory look at the rest of us. And now everyone looks as guilty as I feel.
Okay, I’m an asshole. And after I was being all woke in my memory… Jesus.
Angel seems uncomfortable, and now I feel even worse for also putting them on the spot. I’m teetering between knowing I need to be hella skeptical of this person, because they might be a long-time friend of The Ivory, and being just so damn fascinated.
“Um, thank you. He/him is fine.” He clears his throat.
“Even when you’re… Ari?” I ask.
His lashes flutter in perplexity. Call me crazy, but I feel like this might be the first time he’s discussing this with anyone. Definitely the first time he’s been grilled about it.
“I, um… I think so?” Our eyes are locked. He looks like he’s asking me, wordlessly, for advice. My head tilts. “It’s hard to say…”
“You don’t have to figure anything out now,” Trevel says supportively, stepping over to place a hand on his shoulder. “It’s a process. Don’t rush it.”
