He took two steps toward me and shouted right back, “I never said anything about sleeping with me! I’m talking about marriage!” We stood nose to nose, glaring murder at each other, breathing hard, our hands clenched to fists. “Oh, I see,” I said through gritted teeth. “You’re gay. You need a beard.” Jackson closed his eyes and muttered an oath under his breath. “No. I am not gay.” He opened his eyes. “And you know it, because that kiss we had was hotter than the sidewalk in July.”
