Richard looked toward the direction I pointed. "Dr. Hilton is gay?"

Patting the back of my quick-witted friend, Richard, I said, "You always get me."

Shaking his head, Richard replied, "Nah, Dr. Hilton isn't gay. He's the epitome of integrity. How could he be?"

I frowned, forgetting Richard had a soft spot for Max.

I made a bet. "If you don't believe me, I'll go ask him. If I win, you down another beer, but if I lose, it's on me."

Perhaps it was the few beers we had downed, but I found the courage from somewhere and staggered to Max. Losing my balance, Max caught me with his free hand, his expression as calm as a cucumber.

Raising my beer bottle to his glass, I said, "Dr. Hilton, here's the thing. Richard and I have a bet about you being gay."

In that instant, his calm face turned icy, his eyes seeming to simmer with fury.

"Claire, you've lost. Dr. Hilton can't possibly be gay. Here, drink up!" Richard followed up, handing me another beer.

it. Yet, I wasn't ready to concede defeat. I reached up, wrapping my arms around Max's

varied me in his arms. I clung tighter to his neck, curling up

daringly, I touched his chest muscles,

look that said I was on my own for it. "You

to hear

if he was blushing, but his warm hand covered my eyes. He said, "I'll take

"And what about Mr.

"He can manage."

asked again, "And

"He's got someone."

meant, but the alcohol fuzzed my thoughts, and before knew it, I got tucked into a car. The car was spacious, its roof

felt since starting over. Somehow, my heart had started

gay, I

emotional stability, his perfectionism in his work, his clear distinction between right and wrong, and, of course,

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