Dominic
"Wait," I said slowly. The thought finally snapped into place. "Wasn't Chris gay?"
The question hung between us, heavy and uncomfortable. My fists clenched even thinking of it being anything but true.
I was still reeling — still trying to reconcile the woman I had touched, tasted, memorized, with the girl I used to needle and torment in high school. My body didn't care about timelines or guilt or consequences. Every time I thought about the sounds she made, the way she unraveled, the way her breath stuttered when Nico spoke to her, heat coiled low in my gut.
I had always been good at hiding what I felt when I was younger. Not so much now, but when I was a teenager? It came as second nature. It was a survival skill. One I learned early on.
Putting on a different face than wh
