Page 44 of Wrecked Rose

I grin. “Yeah.”

Lyla looks down and picks at her torn-up gymnastics hands for a few seconds. “Anyway, now that I know better, I can only assume the jealousy I sensed radiating off of Max that day was because he thought maybe you were into her.”

My brows draw together.

She shrugs. “Like I said, it was something I noticed that tripped me up for a while, coming into this group. But anyway, we’re kind of skirting around the real topic.”

“I know.” Oh, God. She’s about to dig deep here, I can feel it.

She eyes me. “I know you’re into girls—that much is obvious. But… you’re into guys, too?” Phrasing it a bit like a question, her brow raises.

My throat feels horribly dry as I open my mouth to respond. “I’m still a little foggy there.” I drag in a deep breath and finally let my true confusion show.

“There was that whole bit on New Year’s when you were both drunk. I kind of discounted that because, well, Max is gay. And I thought maybe you were going along with it to be funny. But then I was watching the two of you when Madame Donnet had you paired up for conversation in French last week. The energy between you practically hummed through the air.”

I suck both lips into my mouth, thinking about what she’s said. I’d begun to wonder lately if anyone noticed the looks exchanged between me and Max. I guess the answer is yes. Quietly, I admit, “He kissed me. On New Year’s Eve.”

“Oh.” She blinks a few times as if she’s trying to digest that info.

Gritting my teeth, I continue, “And I guess if what you’re saying you’ve noticed is true, I think he probably meant it for real. We kind of joked about it at the time and had some more to drink. I think he got nervous and maybe backpedaled a bit. It probably takes a lot of guts to make a move on a guy who shows every outward sign of being heterosexual.”

She snorts a bit. “Yeah. Hetero to the max.” Then she laughs some more. “Ha-ha. Hetero… to theMax.”

“Funny.”

She grins. “Sorry. So, this is all interesting.”

“Yeah.” I swallow, unsure how much more to tell her. I have total faith that she’ll keep quiet about what I tell her in confidence.

“What?” She tilts her head to the side, studying me. “I can totally tell there’s something more.”

“Things have gotten progressively more interesting as time has passed.”

Her brows shoot up. “What does that mean?”

“I may have kissed him that night when he showed up to that party all pissed off. More than once.”

“What?” she shrieks, then clamps her hands over her mouth. Through her fingers, she mumbles with wide eyes, “When? Where? Likeyouwent for it instead of him?” She shakes her head. “I’ll stop asking questions. Tell me.”

“Down in the game room and outside at his car. And yes, I was the one who initiated it both times.”

“Wow. I wasn’t expecting that.”

I nod. “I’ve spent a lot of time kind of processing why I did it and thinking about how it felt, thinking about him, and wondering.”

“And the porn today?”

“Don’t fucking laugh.”

She shakes her head vehemently. “I’d never.”

“I was testing myself. I watched a straight couple.” I shrug. “Boner.”

Lyla sits up straighter.

“A lesbian couple. That elicited an insta-erection.”

She whispers, “And the gay men?”

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