“A little,” I allow, smiling warmly down at Oliver. Sometimes I look at myself and hate everything I see, as I assume all people who aren’t lying to themselves do from time to time, but I’m never left it linger in it. Oliver is always there to draw me out of it because he looks at me like I’m the best thing he’s ever seen, and it makes me look at myself through a kinder lens. It can’t be bad, not if Oliver can look at me like that.

“You don’t say?” I bark out a laugh and reach up to slap my hand over my mouth, but it doesn’t really help. I break out into the giggles anyway and have to suck in a breath to compose myself. “I honestly can’t believe that I always thought you were off fucking all the women in B. My gaydar as a teen was straight up trash.”