She gave a theatrical sigh and poked at her fruit.
“He never even gave me a second glance,” she added dramatically.
I leaned closer to Nevara and whispered, “Between you and me, I don’t think women are his thing.”
She blinked, then quickly covered her mouth with one hand, eyes wide.
Across the table, Michelle’s eyes narrowed.
“Oh. My. God,” she gasped. “That… that actually makes so much sense.”
Nevara let out a strangled little noise—somewhere between laughter and horror.
Michelle threw her hands up. “It has to be that. That’s the only explanation. Because how in the world could a man resist all of this?”
She gestured dramatically to herself from head to toe.
“You’re impossible,” I said.
“I’m incredible,” she corrected. “And clearly too fabulous for his gay little heart.”
Nevara
