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“Yep.” I laughed awkwardly.

“You never answered me. Do you have a problem with gay people?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“Sure about that?”

I hesitated. “Yes.”

“Why the hesitation?”

I couldn’t help it, and I scowled at her. “You’re the nosiest person I’ve ever met.”

She grinned. “I know. Sorry.” She studied me. “I have good instincts.”

I sighed. “Meaning what?”

“You seem rattled. After we finished filming, lots of people looked bored, and plenty of them looked turned on. But you looked freaked-out.”

I felt like I was being interrogated by the FBI. I’d never met a person who was so relentless in their questioning. “Priscilla, please stop asking so many questions.”

“I’ll go first since you seem bashful about sex.”

I grimaced. “Oh, God.”

“When I was younger, I thought I just liked guys. This was way before I started doing porn.” She sighed. “I was so naive and pure.”

I didn’t speak, wondering where the hell she was going with this.

“But in my sophomore year at college, I met this girl. Her name was Rowena, and she was just different. I can’t even explain it, but she made me wet.”

“Priscilla, we don’t have to talk about this.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I feel like we do.” She cleared her throat. “Anyway, that year I discovered that my sexual attraction wasn’t based on gender alone. It was based on who the person was and whether or not they got me hot. Rowena got me hot like nobody ever had.”

Against my will, I was curious about her story. “But you’d always just been with guys?”

She nodded. “This wasn’t me experimenting ’cause it was college either. I was genuinely attracted to her.”

“Hmm.”

She smiled. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

“About what?” I deadpanned.

“About you feeling weird because of those naked guys.”

“Do you have these conversations with all your bodyguards?” I asked, running a finger under my collar.

“Yes.” She snorted a laugh. “I’m super curious about people’s sexuality. I might write a book one day.”

“You do that. But leave me out of your research.”

She frowned. “You’re no fun.”

“I’m here to protect you from overzealous fans. I’m not here to talk about my sex life. I’m not here to be fun.”

“Well, that sucks.”