“Liar.”
His hand came to the back of her head, pulling her in for a deeper kiss, shifting her body fully on top of his, which was warm and firm and sturdy beneath her.
They lay like that for a long time, kissing slowly, intentionally, backing off whenever it got too heated. He was a fucking incredible kisser, and Merritt couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so satisfied by kissing alone, not impatient to get to whatever was next. With Niko, kissing was a full-course meal all on its own.
Eventually, they lay propped on the pillows, passing a jointback and forth as they watched the setting sun spill blazing reds and cotton-candy pinks over the horizon.
“Can I ask you something? About your last relationship?” Merritt asked, once she was stoned enough that she couldn’t help herself.
Niko stubbed the joint out and shrugged, but she could feel him tense beside her.
“When you said you were all together…what did that mean? Like, did you and Helene and…what did you say his name was?”
“A.J.”
“Was it always the three of you together, or did you and A.J. have your own thing, too?”
He met her eyes. “Yeah,” he said, after a pause. “We did. Does that bother you?”
She shook her head emphatically. “No, not at all. I’m into it. Ugh, sorry, that sounded creepy, that’s not how I meant it,” she said with a sheepish laugh, covering her face with her hands, then dropping them again. “What I mean is, I’ve dated a lot of straight guys who were really weird about me being bisexual, in a lot of different ways. So it’s nice to not have to worry about that, because you are, too. Or, I guess you could still be weird about it, in a new way.” He laughed under his breath. “Sorry, maybe I shouldn’t assume,” she added. “I don’t know if you even identify as bi.”
He was quiet for a long moment, his arms resting on his bent legs, his gaze on the horizon. “I’ve never really thought about the label, honestly,” he said. “I mean, I always knew I wasn’t straight. But I didn’t grow up in the most gay-friendly environment. One of my uncles came out while I was living there—in Greece, I mean—and my grandparents…they didn’t take it well. And Florida wasn’t much better. I definitely knew I likedgirls, so it felt easier to act like Ijustliked girls. It wasn’t until I moved here that I started to think I had any other option. Maybe that’s cowardly of me.”
“No, I get it,” she said. “Even though LA is supposedly so progressive, most of the queer people I knew in the industry were closeted because they were worried it would hurt their careers.”
“Were you?”
She laughed under her breath. “No, but nobody was happy about it. Luckily, it ended up aligning with my ‘brand,’ so I was able to get away with it.” She punctuated the wordbrandwith air quotes. “My first girlfriend was, though. She was an actress, and her career was just starting to take off. We were together for a year, and we fought about it all the time. I just wanted a normal relationship, where I could hold her hand walking down the street and not have to worry about who was watching us.” She sighed, stretching her legs in front of her. “I probably should’ve been more understanding.”
Niko shifted so his legs were flat, too, then drew hers across his lap as she angled herself to face him. “Is that why you broke up?”
Merritt groaned and rested her forehead on his shoulder. “I’m embarrassed to tell you,” she said, her voice muffled. He squeezed her shin comfortingly, and after a beat, she lifted her head, meeting his eyes.
“She was off somewhere shooting a movie, and I saw these pictures…a bunch of her costars were out at a bar together, and she was being super flirty with one of them. I think she was sitting on his lap. And I just…lost it. I was jealous that she might be cheating on me, sure—and she was, by the way, not that it excuses anything—but mostly I was jealous that she was able to act like that with him without thinking twice, when wecouldn’t. I blew up her phone, kept calling her over and over and over, and then when she finally turned it off, or blocked me, or whatever…” She swallowed. “I got drunk, and went to a party, and slept with someone else.”
Niko was silent next to her, his gaze downcast. Merritt’s stomach twisted. She’d spent a lot of time regretting her past decisions, but something about this moment made her wish she could go back in time and make every opposite choice she could, just to avoid having to confess it to him now. It had taken her too long to understand that she was creating the blueprints of her life, one careless, impulsive mark at a time.
When he did look back up at her, though, she was surprised to see his mouth curled in amusement. “Well, it’s nice to know you probably won’t try to pressure me into a throuple, at least.”
Merritt stared at him, dumbfounded, then burst into relieved, shocked laughter, hard and long enough that tears sprang to her eyes. “That’s the glass-half-full way of looking at it, I guess,” she said, wheezing and dabbing at the corners of her eyes with the sleeve of his flannel. “And just to be clear, this was all more than a decade ago. But, no, I’m way too possessive to ever be poly. Any of the group sex stuff I was ever a part of, I was always a distant guest. Less messy that way. Or, if there was mess, at least it wasn’tmymess.”
“That’s probably smart. I’m not against trying it again, though. There were parts of it that I liked, and the jealousy wasn’t a problem for me. But the way it all ended up, it made me feel…unimportant. And like I was stupid for being so trusting.”
Merritt reached out and found his hand, his calloused palm and strong fingers, and intertwined it with hers. “Trusting someone with your heart isn’t stupid.”
He held her gaze, his brow creased with emotion, and abattering ram of yearning knocked into her sternum with the knowledge that that someone wouldn’t be her. Eventually—and probably sooner than she’d like—he’d be looking at someone else exactly the way he was looking at her now.
His jaw flexed, his hand trailing up and down her thigh. She wished she could tell what he was thinking, but she had a feeling she already knew.
She had to tread carefully. They both understood there was no real future here.
“I know you’ll find that person one day. Or people. And hopefully they live in Tucson,” she said, exhaling hard from her nose in a humorless laugh. The corners of his mouth ticked up, too, but in a rueful way—not much warmth there, either.
“More likely than here, I guess. I’ve even downloaded dating apps before and set my location to Denver or Boulder, just to see what was out there. But I never got many matches.”
Merritt scoffed. “I find that extremely hard to believe. Let me see your profile.”
Niko shook his head bashfully at first but eventually gave in, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “I haven’t used any of them in forever,” he mumbled, tapping on the screen a few times before handing it to her. She glanced at it, then let out a half laugh, half groan.
