Nikki hesitates. “Can I be honest?”
Uh oh. I nod, bracing myself.
“I don’t particularly enjoy hanging out with guys. Like, at all.”
My heart sinks. “Oh.”
“Yeah.”
It’s tempting to inform her that Max is gay, so hanging with him doesn’t exactly feel the same as hanging out with a typical straight man, but that’s not my business to tell. Not to say that Max isn’t open about it himself, but I don’t feel that it’s appropriate for me to talk about it without his explicit permission.
Plus, I don’t know how deep Nikki’s aversion to men goes. She gave me a glimpse into one of her past relationships with a toxic guy in high school, but she didn’t linger on the details. Which, in retrospect, doesn’t seem fair given how explicit I was when I told her my story, but again, it’s only been two months. She’ll open up more as we grow closer. Right?
“But I’d be comfortable hanging out with your friend Celeste,” Nikki continues, rubbing little circles into the back of my hand. “She seems pretty cool from what I can tell.”
I chew on my bottom lip as I consider how I will explain this to Celeste and Max. Max will likely shrug it off and respect that Nikki’s had a bad history with men. Celeste, however, will be furious. Celeste has known Max for years. She was one of the few friends who stuck around before, during, and after his transition. She knows firsthand how much pain Max has endured because of gender presentation, preferences, and prejudices.
To her, this is yet another instance of Max being rejected because of who he is.
But how can I explain that to Nikki without outing Max as trans?
“So, does that work?” Nikki asks, gently caressing my arm.
“I think it’s a start,” I say.
Nikki goes still, then pulls her hand away. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“I mean–”
“Look, it’s a compromise,” she snaps in a much sharper tone than before. “I like you, and I really enjoy spending time with you. But men make me uncomfortable, and I shouldn’t have to?—”
“Would it help if I told you he’s gay?” I blurt.
Nikki clicks her tongue but considers it. “Like, how gay?”
“Extremely gay,” I reply. “The gayest man I know. Or, how does the quote go? ‘Gayer than a tree full of monkeys on nitrous oxide,’ or something like that.”
Nikki blinks, confused. “I don’t know what that is.”
“Good Omens?” I gape at her. “Really?”
She shrugs.
“Anyway, yeah, Max is hella gay.”
Nikki thinks about it, then takes a deep breath. “Okay, I can work with that.”
I release the tension in my shoulders and let out a sigh. “Thank you, Nikki. It really means a lot to me.”
Nikki’s bright blue eyes are back on mine, and she grins deviously. “Is it safe to say that you owe me?” she asks, voice deepening into a velvety, breathy rasp.
Arousal rockets through me faster than should be humanly possible. Is that normal? To go from crying about whether our relationship is serious to practically melting into a horny puddle in a matter of seconds?
Honestly, who cares? When my perfect, gorgeous girlfriend looks at me like that, I can’t possibly care about anything ever again.
The Eidola Student Center is a massive, multi-purpose facility that includes a full cafeteria, administrative offices, meeting rooms, and event space for student organizations and clubs. Back when Theo and I toured the campus before applying, this was where the group spent the most time. It’s at the very heart of campus.
“I’m glad you’re tagging along, Oliver,” Theo declares as we walk through the courtyard.
