Page 38 of The Boyfriend Gamble

Despite my best intentions, I glanced. She wore a T-shirt that molded to her…breasts. “Uh…” I wracked my brain to picture Josette. We’d gone swimming a couple of months ago. Had I noticed her figure at all? “She’s…slender. And short. Like, way shorter than Jacob.”

“Right.” Nita sipped her drink. “Josette has high, firm, and small breasts.”

How am I supposed to respond to that?

“Isaac has a nice round ass.”

This time, I didn’t sputter. “Isaac and Benare married. I would never look at a married man.”

“But you’d look at a single one? Because I have to say that Cadence Crawford is an attractive man.”

“My realtor?” I frowned. “He’s gay?”

Nita snickered. “Yes, he’s gay. Although I keep wondering if he’s seeing someone on the sly because I haven’t seen him out on a date for more than a year. Heck, maybe even two.”

“Maybe the guy’s discreet.”

She clearly considered. “Yeah…no. He likes guys. A lot. Dated a couple losers, saw a few nice ones, but never went for long without being with someone.”

“And you figure he’s seeing someone.”

“Yep.”

“Okay, then why did you bring him up?”

“Oh, have you met Septimus Knight? He’s an architect.”

“And?” I was struggling.

“He’s gay.”

I blinked. “I’m still not understanding.”

“Heck, your future brother-in-law is bi.”

This, at least, I knew. “I’m marrying Josette.”

“But you’re…”

I waited.

“Oh, Felix, I love you. You know that, right?”

“Sure.”

“But I think you’re a little gay. Or a lot gay. And I’m not outing you or anything like that. We never have to talk about it again. But I’m worried that you’re marrying Josette out of some kind of obligation and that you’re not really thinking about this clearly. You both deserve happiness. You also need to be honest with her. I mean, have you folks even…you know…”

“No.” I shushed her. “Don’t say stuff like that.”

“I didn’tsayanything.” She sat a little straighter. “I implied it. And if you can’t sayfuck—”

“Oh my God, you did not just say that.”

“Say what?”

Nita and I both turned to find a newcomer approaching. I recognized him instantly. As I should. Since he was my dentist. And as much as I would’ve called him Dr. Johns, he was adamant he was justCamwhen I wasn’t in the torture chair.

Sorry, dental chair.

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