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“I’m not gay,” Atticus managed, sounding unsure even to himself. The stranger grinned, and Atticus’s stomach did somersaults. “Yeah, but you’re not straight either, are you?” “I’m a psychopath,” Atticus blurted. The stranger leaned forward, his whisper conspiratorial. “I’m a Scorpio. I still like banging dudes.”
“Who are you fucking people?” Jericho’s smile unnerved even Atticus. “Neighborhood watch.”

