Page 97 of Man On

“Afraid of losing?”

“No.” Yes.

I can only imagine what kind of questions he’s going to ask. I have no doubt they’ll either be intrusive or embarrassing. But I meant it when I said that I’m trying to go with the flow.

“Okay. You go first.”

I’ve been more concerned about what kind of questions he’s going to ask me, so I hadn’t even considered what I’d ask him. He’s a pretty open guy who’s lived a pretty normal life, from what I know. Other than having to deal with me, I suppose.

“When did you figure out that you were attracted to men?”

Noah blinks, seeming surprised by my question. “Wow. You’re diving right into the deep end, are you?”

“I assumed you would be.”

He quirks a brow, conceding to my point, and clears his throat. “I’m not attracted to men,” he answers.

The look on my face must convey my disbelief. Why even start this game if he’s not going to play? “If you’re not going to?—”

“When I was fourteen, I kissed a boy, and something happened inside me. In my head, or something. I chased that feeling for years, but I couldn’t find it anywhere else, not with guys or girls.” He looks me right in the eyes. “I’m not attracted to men. I’m attracted to you.”

Oh.

“So you really were just out there slutting it up, huh?” I joke, trying to lighten up the tension in the room before I smother him again. The side of his mouth turns up, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

If I hadn’t been so broken, could we have been together from the start?

Are we together now?

“My turn,” he says. “Same question.”

“Can you do that?”

He shrugs. “I’m making up the rules as I go.”

I take a sip of my sparkling water that Noah calls ‘La Crotch’ so I can think of how to answer. Can he hear my heartbeat? I cut my eyes to his, and see what has to be the most patient, understanding expression I’ve ever seen on his face. It’s unnatural.

My eyes drop to my lap. “I think I was around ten when I first suspected there was something wrong.” A simple enough answer, but hard to spit out. I’ve never said it out loud. “And then, when I was fourteen, I kissed a boy, and something broke inside me,” I say quietly, repeating his words from earlier. I look back up at him, forcing myself to be brave and face him the way he faced me. “And that’s when I knew for sure. But I only came to terms with it… I don’t know. Yesterday?”

Noah snorts.

“I really want to kiss you right now,” he says. “But I know the game will be over once I do.”

I roll my lips, because I was thinking the same thing. Except that I was considering whether it was a viable option to distract him from the game.

“Why did you hate me so much?” I ask, because I can see that he really wants to keep going. And as the object of Noah’s single-minded focus, I know he’s not likely to move on until we finish it.

“I’m not sure I ever actually hated you.”

“That’s a cop out,” I say, pointing at him. “Answer the question, Milner.”

“I thought I hated you, because I was jealous and confused. And because you were an asshole.”

I laugh out loud. “That’s fair. But why jealous?” That part makes absolutely no sense to me.

“For a long time, I thought of you like a shadow looming over me, something I couldn’t live up to or surpass. You were so untouchably perfect, I just wanted to dirty you up.”

“Well, I suppose you succeeded there,” I murmur, taking another drink.

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