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“I couldn’t have stopped myself if I’d tried.”
He chuckles, low and deep. “I take it we can say sex with a man was successful, then?”
“We didn’t have sex.”
Keller’s dark eyes study me. “You were both … intimate. You both came. Not sure how you’d call it anything else.”
“No.” I frown. “Sex is … well …”
“Intercourse?”
“Exactly.”
Apparently, that’s the wrong thing to say because he roars with laughter. “Damn, you really were a straight dude.”
I huff. “Still am. I think.”
“Yeah, I’m not going to tell you how to identify, but I can guaran-fucking-tee you start spouting thatstraightshit around Ford and you’ll piss him off.”
Worry swirls in my gut. “You don’t think I’m straight?”
“Well.” He gestures toward me with both hands. “Taking nuance out of it, you got off with another man. What would you call it?”
A bone-headed decision that I couldn’t stop myself from making?
“And if you say the word ‘mistake,’ I’m kicking you out of my house.”
I run a hand over the scruff on my jaw. “I definitely wasn’t going to say that. I knew what I was doing.”
“You were the one dancing, so I should hope so. I also hope you canactuallydance and didn’t embarrass the hell out of yourself, but that’s a conversation for another day.”
Or never. Keller’s a cool guy. He’s another member of the DMC, and unlike Art and Griff, who I’m closest with, he’s levelheaded. Art is all about theatrics, and Griff is a ball of anxiety half of the time, but Keller listens and gives me time to think. Let’s me get to the answer on my own, without trying to fix all my problems for me. Art is a fixer, a hero type—look at the DMC, for example—and Griff hates seeing anyone he cares about struggle.
Maybe Keller just doesn’t care about me as much as they do, but he hasn’t kicked me out of his house yet, so I’m taking that as a green light.
“Where do I go from here?” I ask.
“Where do youwantto go?”
Fuck. Maybe I should have gone to one of the others. Even Payne would have made some foolish suggestions, but I’ve only been getting to know him over the last few months, so I assume a late-night house call would be confusing and pushing the boundaries of our friendship. Plus, who knows what he and Beau are up to?
“I want to keep our friendship, no question. Ilikebeing around him. He’s fun and hardworking and always makes me laugh.”
“Do you want to be friends, or do you want to marry the guy?”
I flip him off. “Friends can make other friends laugh.”
“It’s not your words, my man. It’s your face. You pregnant? Because you’re glowing.”
I slap my hands over my cheeks, but they don’t feel any different than usual. “Can you concentrate?”
“Sure. But for what it’s worth, I think I’m paying more attention than you are.”
“You’re barely on topic.”
“What topic do you want us to be on?”
Okay, I take it all back. This whole sorting through things myself sucks ass. “Will sex ruin things between us?”
