Page 32 of Wicked Devotions

“If I need someone to be with you another time.” I hold my hands up to stop her from arguing. “Just until my dad’s investigator figures out what’s happening and who is behind the creepy letters.”

She looks at me like she’s weighing something internally. “Banks and I didn’t break up or anything, but I’m not sure what we are now.”

“Okay,” I draw the word out, not entirely understanding. “I’m going to need a little more than that.”

“He told me something about his sexuality that affects our relationship.”

“He’s gay.”

“No.”

“He’s trans?”

“What? No.”

“He’s a furry.”

“What the heck is a furry?” She shakes her head. “You know what, I probably don’t want to know. He’s asexual.”

“He’s ace? Huh. I cannot relate.” I push some books out of the way and sit down on the edge of her bed. “Has he tried it?”

“Tried what?”

“Sex.”

Her cheeks turn pink. “No. All we’ve ever done is kiss. He said the thought of doing more is repulsive.”

“Repulsive?” I wince.

“Essentially, said the thought of it makes his skin crawl. Did wonders for my self-esteem.”

“I’m sure he didn’t mean you were repulsive. There’s no one on the planet who would say that.”

She shrugs. “Maybe.”

“And you didn’t break up? Even though he’s not interested in the physical aspect of a relationship.”

“Yeah, but I am. He said he’s okay if I look for that with other people.”

No wonder she hasn’t been herself, or at least the way we’ve become familiar with her. I’m notentirely sure she's ever been who she really is around us. “That’s a lot to handle.”

Her eyes are glassy when they meet mine. “I know.” She waves her hand in front of her eyes. “I don’t want to cry again. All I ever do is cry. I’m sick of crying.” She jumps off the bed and runs to the bathroom.

I stand and follow her. She’s blowing her nose when I wrap my arms around her from behind. “It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to feel feelings. You’ve been going through a lot.”

“I don’t want to be more of a nuisance than I already am. Being stuck with me here has to be an inconvenience.”

“Wait.” I spin her in my arms and cup her face, tilting it back so I can look down into her eyes. “Is that why you’re always up here alone? You think we don’t want you around?”

“Yes.”

“We’ve told you otherwise.”

“I know. I just thought that you were being nice because you had no other choice.”

“When have I ever been nice?”

Her eyes move back and forth between mine as she thinks about it. “Good point. Although you’re being nice now.”