“It was heavily implied. Being gay or bi or anything else isn’t a kink, Beck. It’s just who you are. I’ll concede that getting a blowy somewhere you shouldn’t have could qualify as promiscuous. But the identity of the-other person involved isn’t a factor unless you’re specifically seeking them out because of some concept of it being forbidden. Which is an entirely different conversation.”
My lips turn down in a frown.
“Am I an asshole?” I ask Caty, my voice low enough to let her know I’m being serious.
“Sometimes, but I think you’re redeemable.” She smirks, but I know her well enough to know she’ll always tell me the truth. “I think you have some very backwards ideas that you need to unlearn. But I also think that maybe you’re on your way.”
“Your parents aren’t any better than mine. How did you become so wise?” I’m grinning, but it’s an honest question.
“Lots of people struggle with identifying or coming to terms with their sexuality or identity. For whatever reason, I didn’t. I knew from a young age, and I’m stubborn, so my parent’s attempts at redirecting my crush on my third-grade teacher Ms. Colleen did nothing to deter me.”
“Stubborn or spoiled and used to getting your way?”
“You know what? I hope Brody puts you in your place one day. You’re the biggest brat I’ve ever met.”
“Takes one to know one.”
She glares at me. I glare back. She grins. I hate her. I love her. And I definitely need her in my life forever.
I roll my eyes and grin back, pulling my phone out of my pocket when it buzzes. There’s a text from Fish.
“Fish and Cade and some others are heading to the Wolf Cafe for dinner later, you want to go? I’m not sure I’m in the right mind for a group outing without a leash.”
“Wanna help me organize my sociology notes?”
“Only if you promise to give me very long, boring descriptions of each and every concept you’re learning about.”
Caty cackles. “This is why I love you.”
I should have texted Fish back and told him I wasn’t coming after all when Caty got too involved in the concept of eliminating social bias in data collection. I also should have turned my ass around the second I saw the table, where my traitor roommate is sitting next to Brody of all people, animatedly chatting like they’re best friends.
Calm down Beck, there are plenty of other guys here to buffer any interactions.
I sit as far away as the table allows, eyes fixed on the menu like I haven’t been eating here regularly since freshman year and don’t get the same thing almost every time I come.
It takes exactly thirty seconds before I feel Brody looking at me.
I glance up when his gaze starts to burn, planning to get him to cut it out and quit staring.
If he notices my glare, he doesn’t acknowledge it. His face looks entirely earnest when he mouths,You okay?
Heat crawls up my neck, spreading over my face too rapidly to talk myself down before it’s too obvious that there’s something very, very wrong with me. I shove back my chair and head straight for the bathroom.
Cold water. Cold water. Cold water.
I splash my face and bend over the sink, gripping porcelain like it’s an anchor and only straightening when the door opens.
Of course it’s Brody.
“You good?” he asks softly.
He looks apologetic. Which is disarming. I don’t know what to do with soft Brody. Frustrated Brody I can deal with. Angry Brody. Even teasing and smug Brody is easier to deal with than this.
Soft, apologetic Brody? I can’t handle it. Nope. I need to get out of here.
“I’m fine,” I snap. “You can go about your business,” I say, gesturing to the stalls.
The bastard walks right over to the urinals and unzips, hips angled just enough for me to see everything in the reflection I’m trying so hard not to notice.
