way out of this.
I call after Cash as he moves toward the front door. “I’m burning all your songs in a dumpster fire.”
“Look forward to it,” he yells back and leaves.
My gaze flicks between Lyric and Kaylee, and they stare back.
There’s only one thing I can do. Pretend none of that happened.
Cash’s motorcycle roars to life outside, and I pretend that doesn’t exist either.
“Hey, who wants dinner?” I turn on my heel.
“It’s only four,” Lyric says.
I don’t look back. “Early dinner.” My voice cracks.
“Ryder?” Lyric’s voice is both stern and inquisitive.
It makes me pause, and I slump as I turn back around. “Kaylee—”
“Go clean my room. I know.”
“I was going to say go play, but sure. If you’re offering to clean …”
My daughter’s face lights up. “You said play. No backsies.” She runs off.
“So, dinner?” I ask again.
His hazel eyes narrow at me. “Why does Cash Kingsley think I’m straight when you know I’m not? Like, definitely not.”
“Maybe you give off a super-straight vibe?”
“Bitch, please.”
My feet stumble backward as if they think I can get out of this by running away. Yet, my newly found, high, squeaky voice jumps in. “I might’ve told him you were straight? Okay, bye.”
I go to leave but can’t.
“Why?” The question comes out sounding hurt with a slight edge of anger thrown in, and there’s no way I can leave it at that.
There are so many things I could say: because you’re my nanny. Because Cash is not the guy for you. Because I didn’t want Cash to think you were available. Because the thought of you and Cash makes me feel angry and gross, and I don’t know what that’s about. The words that come out, though, are not what I was expecting.
“Because Cash and I had a thing, a very brief thing, and I’d prefer it if he didn’t start pawing all over you in front of me. But if you want his number, I’m sure he’d love to take you out.”
I hold my breath and wait for Lyric to jump at the chance. All he does is look confused.
“You’re … and … I mean, the rumors are true?”
“You might have to be more specific than that. There are rumors that I died, so I hope you’re smart enough to know that isn’t true.”
Yes, a joke. Something to cut the fucking tension growing between us because never has a ten-foot gap felt so small.
“That you’re … and Kaylee was—”
I screw up my face. “Okay, I know which rumors you’re talking about, and no, Kaylee is not a fucking publicity stunt, she is biologically my daughter, and I’ve never lied about how she came into this world. But, yes. The other rumors surrounding my sexuality have some merit.” I’m rambling, but I can’t seem to stop. “I don’t like talking about my orientation because I don’t even know if there’s a label for what I am. I’m mostly gay, but saying that makes me feel dirty and disrespectful to the bi community. Calling myself bisexual when I actually don’t want to be with women makes it sound like I hate women. I fit under the bi umbrella, maybe pan, but I’ve never found the right definition because it often changes. One day I’ll be convinced I’m one hundred percent gay, other days I find myself checking out anyone and everyone. And now I realize I’ve spewed a whole lot of information you didn’t ask for, but that’s me. In a nutshell. You can see why I don’t go around telling everyone I just met.”
“Does Kaylee know?”
I blink. That’s the first thing he asks?
“Umm. She knows I believe anyone can love anyone, regardless of gender, but it’s not like I’ve come out to my four-year-old or anything.”
Lyric nods. “So, you’re a label-less queer guy who likes who he likes and those likes change depending on your mood. End of story.”
“Pretty much. Though, even the queer label makes me uneasy with the negative connotations it used to come with, but I guess it’s the one I’m most comfortable with. So many people put emphasis on labels which is why there are so many, but none of them make me go ‘Yes, that’s me!’”
“Cool. You said something about dinner?”
I let out a relieved breath. If the whole world reacted the same way Lyric did, there’d be no need for people to fear coming out.
Chapter Eight
Lyric
I think I handled that wrong.
I figured the best thing to do wouldn’t be to make a big deal out of it.
But it