Page 118 of In Plain Sight

He tilted his head curiously. “What is it?” he prompted when I didn’t say anything. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’ve been distant lately. Is this because of the Beth thing? I’ve told Elle that I don’t like excluding you, but?—"

“It’s not that.” I blew out a breath to steel my resolve. “Well, notjustthat.” Might as well go for full honesty. “Being excluded really hurts, especially since everyone made it seem likeIwas the problem, and it’s my fault that she and her boyfriend can’t get over it.”

He winced. “Yeah, I wasn’t okay with that.”

“You seemed pretty okay with it when you were ignoring me and hiding things from me.” I couldn’t keep the hurt out of my voice.

“Yeah.” He scrubbed his hand through his hair. “I should have done more to stand up for you. I did you dirty, man. I’m sorry.”

“Thanks.” I wasn’t over it, but his apology was sincere. “But that’s not what I need to talk to you about.”

This time he kept quiet and let me gather the courage to say what I needed to.

“I’m bi,” I said in a rush. “And I’m seeing someone. And he’s a guy. So I have a boyfriend. Sort of.”

Dean gaped at me like I’d just told him I had a freezer full of body parts in my apartment.

“Shit,” he muttered.

I blinked at him, confusion replacing my fear.

“Fuck.” He dropped his head in his hand and rubbed his temples like he was trying to chase away a headache. Of all the reactions I’d imagined him having, this hadn’t been one of them.

He was pissed, but not at me. It was like he was angry at himself for some reason.

“Jesus Christ.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, then dropped his hand and shook his head like he couldn’t believe whatever he was thinking.

“I have no idea what’s happening right now,” I said, already bracing to run if he exploded in anger.

He stopped shaking his head and finally looked at me. There was no anger in his eyes, only regret. “I’m sorry.”

I tried to say something, but no words came out. He was sorry that I was bi? Was that his way of saying we weren’t friends anymore and he was done with me?

“Yeah. I just…” He shook his head again. “I’m fucking this up.”

“I’m so confused.”

He flopped back against the back of his easy chair. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “I just… I was thinking about all the stupid shit I’ve said to you over the years. The jokes, dropping f-bombs like it’s nothing, all the dumbass comments.” He shook his head again. “You kept that a secret for all these years because you were afraid of how I’d react, right?”

I nodded, still not quite computing that he was freaking out at himself instead of cutting me off.

“That’s why I’m sorry,” he said seriously. “It never occurred to me to watch my language or to be careful because I thought they were just words, and jokes like that were just, I don’t know, normal?” He shook his head again. “But it’s not normal to have your best friend be too scared to tell you the truth about who they are. Or look like they’re about to shit themselves from fear when they tell you they’re seeing someone. That’s not okay, and it’s my fault.”

I had no idea what to say. I’d hoped he’d be able to accept my sexuality; I never expected this kind of introspection or self-awareness.

“So you’re seeing someone?” he prompted, his expression open and earnest.

“Um, yeah. It’s new…ish.” I stumbled over my words a bit, still not completely over another friend so easily accepting the truth about me.

“Newish?”

“We started talking a little after we met.” I was grateful Dean was okay with everything, but there was no way in hell I was telling him about the app or any of the specifics of our relationship. He didn’t need to know those details. “But we only started seeing each other about a month ago.”

“Where did you meet?”

“At work.”

His eyes bugged out comically, then he threw back his head and cackled. “Holy shit. Complicated, party of two.”

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