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Summary
“Max and I kissed,” he says, and it’s interesting that that’s the way the words come out of his mouth. Not Max kissed me, but Max and I kissed, like Tristan had been a part of it, an active participant. Maybe he had, actually. Maybe some part of him had known, when he’d started goading the other man, exactly what reaction he was going to get. Maybe he’d been aiming for that exact reaction.
As Tristan expects, Avery’s whole face lights up with mischievous excitement. “Ooh!” she exclaims, grinning from ear to ear. “And did you like it?” Avery lowers her voice, almost conspiratorial. “I happen to know that Max is a very good kisser.”