“So you’re gonna pretend to like women the rest of your life?” I’d laugh at how far Damien’s jaw falls if it weren’t for the fact that I know he’s genuinely mortified. “That’s…” he sputters. “Why?”

“I wouldn’t be pretending.”

“You actually like women?”

“I prefer them—” I concentrate on pulling a stray thread on my jeans “—ninety-nine percent of the time.”

“And the other one percent?”

My eyes stay pinned to my pants, because I have a feeling once they meet his, I’ll confess everything else I’ve been trying to ignore.

“I’m trying really hard not to figure that out.”

Damien

My mouth is suddenly parched as I watch Bennet pretend to be engrossed in the loose thread on his jeans. Which I assume is because he can’t bring himself to look at me.

Holy confession.

What he first admitted in the locker room, the way he appears to warm up to me then coldly retreats after each encounter…it all adds up. Bennet really doesn’t identify as gay, except maybe when it comes tome.

And that terrifies him.

I want to empathize, but the truth is I don’t. My parents have always been cool with who I am, so I never had to question how our relationship would be affected by who I date. Chances are Bennet never had to question that either, until I showed up and disrupted his comfortable existence.

No wonder he tries so hard to push me away. I’m like his apocalypse, the atom bomb that could blow up his whole life. And like most things that have the power to do irreparable harm, he’s drawn to me in spite of the danger.

My ego likes that idea way more than it should.

I kind of want to strut around obnoxiously, as much as I can in a walking boot, since I’ve been right about Bennet this whole time. At least as far as yours truly is concerned. But my ultimate goal is still to win him over, and I won’t do that if I dismiss his fear about losing his family.

“Are you positive they’d object?” I ask him. “If you figured out you prefer the one percent to the ninety-nine?”

“They’ve done it before.”

Not gonna lie that makes my stomach plummet, but I don’t take it as the final word. I can’t, not without knowing what I’m up against.

“Is it a religion thing? That’s why you went to a private Christian school?”

Bennet still doesn’t look at me, but he does at least shake his head. “I don’t think so. We weren’t big church goers growing up, although maybe sending me to a Christian school influenced what my parents thought? It’s mostly my dad who has the issue, though, and he never cited the bible as an influence.”

Keeping the tone of my voice soft, so Bennet knows I’m curious rather than offended, I ask, “If it’s not religion, what’s his justification?”

I can see Bennet chewing on his cheek as he tries to find the right words. “I think he objects to the idea of men dating because he finds it disgusting. The word I remember him using is unnatural.”

“Unnatural?” My voice is less soothing now, but I manage to keep it level enough that it doesn’t spook the object of my obsession. Not enough to make him run away. He does finally look at me though, with blue eyes full of something that resembles shame.

“That’s the word he used. And if I’m being honest, part of me gets that in the sense that two men can’t create a family in the same way a hetero couple can.”

I force myself to take a calming breath before speaking. “True, but that word also implies there’s something wrong with being gay, like people have a choice in the matter rather than being born how we are.”

“You don’t have to convince me you’re made how you’re made.” Bennet huffs out a humorless laugh as he shakes his head. “No offense, but seeing as how the last person on the planet I’dchooseto be attracted to is the one person I apparently can’t resist, there’s something to be said for the wholeborn this wayargument.”

“Only you can agree with me and insult me in the same sentence.”

“I said no offense.” His expression morphs from ashamed to sheepish. “And didn’t I compliment you in there too?”

“How do you figure?”