After a long afternoonand evening spent with my family, everyone but Christy finally headed home. Brian disappeared into his room as soon as the door closed behind them.
He loves my family, and they love him, but I know he needs to decompress, and that’s fine, because I need some time with Christy.
After showing her the biggest guest room, I changed into comfortable clothes and made some tea. When I walk back into her room, she’s sitting cross-legged on the bed, now in sweats and an oversized tee, her hair tucked up in a silky wrap and all her makeup gone.
I hand her one of the mugs, then settle in a chair in the corner by the window.
“So… you’re living with Brian,” she says after a beat.
I meet her eyes and nod. “Yep.”
“Interesting.”
“Why is it interesting that I live with my best friend? Lots of people live with their best friends.”
She gives me the most derisive look to ever be derisive, which is saying something in my family. Are we all supportive of each other? To a fault. Do we give each other shit while we’re doing it? 24/7, 365.
“And you and Brian are just friends? Don’t lie to me.”
I hold up my hands. “I’m not going to lie.”Not any more than I’m lying to myself.“We’re best friends, but…”
“Ooh, now we’re getting to it. But what?”
I take a sip of my tea and pull my knees up to my chest. “Would it be crazy if I had feelings for him?”
It’s the first time I’ve said the words aloud to another person. I’m certain some of the Baker Girls tribe suspects it. Definitely Hallie. Maybe Justin. Beyond that, I’m not sure. But I don’t want to drag them into this. I don’t want to drag anyone else into this. Everyone in my family loves Brian like he’s one of us, and I don’t want to make it weird. But Christy is my ride or die. I don’t have to worry about her being in the middle.
“No. Not even a little bit. Frankly, I’m surprised you’ve never questioned your sexuality before. You’ve always loved big. There’s no other way to say it. I guess I sort of assumed that gender identity wouldn’t make a difference for you in falling in love.”
“I guess it doesn’t? I don’t know. I’ve never given it much thought. Growing up, I just assumed I was straight.”
“We love that cis-heteronormative culture,” she says dryly. “Imagine what it would be like if we didn’t assign sexuality to literal children growing up. What if we just let them grow and experience life and who they love didn’t matter?”
I chuckle at that and shake my head. “Then we’d be far more advanced as a society. Honestly, why does anyone give a fuck who I love or why?”
“Because you’re in the public eye, and people feel like they’re entitled to that information—and to have an opinion on it. Hell, most of the world feels that way about anyone they meet. But they can fuck off. All that matters is how you feel. How do you feel?”
“That’s the problem. I don’t know. And it’s not the sexuality stuff I’m confused about. It’s the feelings for him. Is it justbecause we spend so much time together? Things are always easy between us, and we’re together all the time, so I’m assigningfeelingsto it?”
“Do you imagine he’s there when you’re doing other things?”
“What other things? Grocery shopping? Working out with the team? He’s literally always there.”
“Sex, Ryan. I’m talking about sex.”
“Oh. Right.” My lips pull flat. “It’s been a bit.”
“A bit?”
I clear my throat. “Seven months or so?”
Her eyes widen. “Seven months? You used to have a new hookup every other day.”
“Wow, way to make me sound like a slut.”
She kicks my leg. “The term slut is a social construct. As long as it’s consensual and safe, no one else should have any opinion on how many people you sleep with or how often.”
“Now I just feel like a jackass.”
