Page 9 of The Last Person (Baker Girls #5)

“No. Not even a little bit. Frankly, I’m surprised you’ve never questioned your sexuality before. You’ve always loved big. There’s no other way to say it. I guess I sort of assumed that gender identity wouldn’t make a difference for you in falling in love.”

“I guess it doesn’t? I don’t know. I’ve never given it much thought. Growing up, I just assumed I was straight.”

“We love that cis-heteronormative culture,” she says dryly. “Imagine what it would be like if we didn’t assign sexuality to literal children growing up. What if we just let them grow and experience life and who they love didn’t matter?”

I chuckle at that and shake my head. “Then we’d be far more advanced as a society. Honestly, why does anyone give a fuck who I love or why?”

“Because you’re in the public eye, and people feel like they’re entitled to that information—and to have an opinion on it. Hell, most of the world feels that way about anyone they meet. But they can fuck off. All that matters is how you feel. How do you feel?”

“That’s the problem. I don’t know. And it’s not the sexuality stuff I’m confused about. It’s the feelings for him. Is it just because we spend so much time together? Things are always easy between us, and we’re together all the time, so I’m assigning feelings to it?”

“Do you imagine he’s there when you’re doing other things?”

“What other things? Grocery shopping? Working out with the team? He’s literally always there.”

“Sex, Ryan. I’m talking about sex.”

“Oh. Right.” My lips pull flat. “It’s been a bit.”

“A bit?”

I clear my throat. “Seven months or so?”

Her eyes widen. “Seven months? You used to have a new hookup every other day.”

“Wow, way to make me sound like a slut.”

She kicks my leg. “The term slut is a social construct. As long as it’s consensual and safe, no one else should have any opinion on how many people you sleep with or how often.”

“Now I just feel like a jackass.”

“Settle down. You’re not a jackass. You’re a dumbass. Get it right.”

“Thanks for that.”

“Anytime.” She’s quiet for a beat. “I don’t want to know about this, but it’s my next question in helping you figure this out… do you think of him while you get off?”

“No. That’s a hard line. I’ve always avoided thinking of anyone I know while doing that. I do the healthy thing and watch porn—ethically. I like watching couples who are together in real life—”

She gags. “Things I don’t need to know.”

“I saw his butt before I showered tonight, and then in the shower it popped into my head,” I rush out. “And little Hardy was interested.”

She snorts at that. “Little Hardy. Has he ever been interested before?”

I clear my throat. “Kind of? The other morning we were goofing around, and I tried to tackle him, but he spun things around, and I ended up pinned underneath him on the floor.”

“Never tackle a linebacker.”

“Christy…”

She laughs. “Okay, then what?”

“I don’t know. It was like a whole scene from a romance novel unfolded in my brain.

What if he kissed me? Would I want that?

Again, little Hardy seemed interested. Obviously, nothing happened.

He hopped off me and made a joke, like we’re just best friends.

And we are. How would he respond to knowing I got hard at the thought of him?

If I had feelings for him? I know he wants to find love, but what if I’m solidly friend zoned?

I don’t want to screw up our friendship. He’s too important to me.”

“You’re getting ahead of yourself,” she says gently.

“Don’t even go to the place of telling him or worrying about his reaction.

You need to figure out your own feelings first. So, I’m circling back to what you said about hooking up earlier.

Because an important question is why haven’t you hooked up?

Are you growing out of that phase or is it because of him? ”

I trill my lips. “I don’t know. But it’s not because I’m pining for his dick.”

“Good to know.”

“He likes staying in. And I like hanging out with him, so I stay in. We watch TV, talk, hang out, and that’s… nice.”

“Aw, you’re down bad for him. It’s so cute.”

“Shut up.”

She laughs and scooches to the edge of the bed, pressing her toes to my leg.

“It’s great you have a friendship like that, but you need to ask yourself if it’s simply the friendship that keeps you wanting to spend time with him or if it’s starting to feel like more than a friendship and you’re leaning into that.

And maybe you should consider letting yourself think about him during alone time—or trying to hook up with someone and seeing what happens.

You’re not going to find the answers to your questions if you never challenge yourself to find them. ”

“Wow. That’s so mature.”

“I know. It’s gross, right? When did we become adults?”

“I have no idea, but I’m proud of us. You’re taking the world by storm, connecting people, and shining a light on the stories and culture behind the places you visit.”

“And you’re great at catching balls.”

“Thank you for that.”

“Anytime. Someone’s gotta keep you humble.” She smiles at me. “Figure out what you want, Ry. You deserve that.”

I know she’s right, but I’m scared the answer is Brian, and I’m terrified if it is, it’ll completely derail our friendship.

I’m not scared of much, but losing Brian Ackley is at the top of my list.