Page 65 of Break Points and Face Offs

“I’m not gay.”

“Oh, really?”

“I’m … closer to the bi spectrum than most. I’ve slept with women. I know I can do it.”

“You can sleep with women, or you want to? And you know you still can’t choose who you fall in love with, right?”

“You’re so naive. Who I marry matters. Who I’m seen with matters. You’re … you’re … unsuitable.”

I should be fucking furious. But in the moment, I just feel sorry for him.

I put my mug down and cross the room. He takes a step back and stops when he bumps against the couch.

When I cradle his face in both hands, he looks down before closing his eyes with a sigh.

“Why am I unsuitable, Rosie?”

He swallows, looks up at me with a pleading look in his eyes. “You don’t have a good family name.”

I smirk. “Have you slept with a man before?”

“Yes,” he says. His voice husky and rough. Something in me tingles at the sound.

“Was he … suitable?”

He slow blinks, unable to look me in the eye. “It was just sex.”

“But it wouldn’t be with me?”

He finally looks up, his eyes dark. “You’re a Princeton man.”

“Not the right kind of Princeton man, though.” I smile, but it feels strained.

“Exactly.”

I bend down and kiss his forehead. The heat radiates from his body and he sighs into me. “I’m tired,” he says. “I need to go to bed. I’ve had too much to drink.”

My heart sinks. Even though I know he’s right.

“Okay.”

“You should leave.”

“Not until I know you’re okay.”

“I’m fine.”

I pull away and look down into his face, letting my hands stay there a moment longer, my thumb tracing down to that pulse in his neck again.

“Sure?”

He nods, his throat working as he swallows.

I want to kiss him so bad, it hurts. But he already told me no. He just told me he has had too much to drink. Even though I know he said it because he’s scared of what he wants, I have to respect that.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Rosie,” I say, finally letting my hands drop. His shoulders sag.

“You have no reason to talk to me tomorrow. The group project is over.”