Her cheeks were on fire. She desperately wanted to be anywhere but here, only she had no superpowers and she probably deserved to suffer for what she’d done.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered staring at the sidewalk. “I’m so sorry. That was inappropriate and I never meant to try to—” She couldn’t even say what had been happening. She forced herself to look at him. “I’m sorry.”

She did her best not to cry. She didn’t want him thinking she was playing the tears card. It was just so awful.

Keith studied her, as if trying to figure her out. “What were you doing?”

She hung her head again. “Don’t make me say it. I can see you’re upset and mad and you have every right to be.”

“I’m not mad. I’m confused. You kissed me.”

Could someone please kill her now? She nodded.

“On the neck.”

Another nod.

“You touched my butt.”

Her head snapped up. “I didn’t. I got close, but I never actually... You know.”

“Were you coming on to me?”

Oh God, oh God, oh God. “I don’t know. Maybe. I’m not sure what that means. I was thinking about how nice it was in your arms and, you know, how it felt and then it all got out of hand.”

He turned away and said something she couldn’t hear before looking at her again.

“I wasn’t mad,” he told her. “I was surprised. And uncomfortable.”

She’d made him uncomfortable? Had she just sexually harassed one of her closest friends?

“Oh, no. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. It will never happen again, I promise.”

“Stop,” he told her. “I said that wrong. I wasn’t uncomfortable because of the kiss. I liked the kiss. I was—” He swore again and pushed a hand through his hair.

“I didn’t want to stand there with a giant erection, okay?” He glared at her. “You’re making my life difficult, Ellen. I thought the worst thing I’d have to deal with on the bus trip was arguing teenagers, but then you bounced on board with your tight clothes and your breasts and then you get a damned tattoo on your ass.”

“It’s my hip,” she said primly. “Hip, not ass.”

“Whatever. You get it somewhere I’m not used to seeing then show it to me like I’m your hundred-and-eighty-year-old uncle. You strip down to a bathing suit and ask me to rub on lotion and talk about masturbating and toys and then kiss me. I can’t take it anymore. I’m only human, Ellen. At some point, I’m going to snap.”

She might not be an expert on the boy-girl thing, but he didn’t sound like he minded that she’d kissed him. If she had to guess, he was saying he was admitting he was attracted to her. As in wanting to do it with her.

“Are we talking sex?” she asked, keeping her voice low.