"Hmm," she mumbled, spearing her fries with a fork and shoving about five of them into her mouth at once. "You still want to get up close and personal with his joystick?"

"I never said I wanted to," I tried to explain, knowing it was futile. "He's already told me about a million times that he wants to be friends, how he doesn't want a girlfriend because of the porn, how I'm such a good friend, blah blah blah. We're friends. There won't be any test drives going on for this old clunker," I said, pointing at myself.

Zoey scowled, chewing a huge bite of cheeseburger. "That's stupid," she literally spit out. Bits of hamburger bun splattered across the table, and I grimaced. "I mean, I get why he wouldn't want a girlfriend, and it's admirable that he's honest with you but still. Maybe he's trying to convince himself that both of you are friends by saying it so much?"

"Doubt it," I shrugged. He seemed to treat me the way I always imagined an older brother would treat a younger sibling. With my luck, the next thing he'd tell me would be that I was endearing. Ugh. "I don't know, Zo. I like him a lot, but what am I going to do? Seduce him and then get him to fuck me? Then a week later he goes and fucks five other girls? I couldn't do that. Maybe if I didn't like him it'd be possible, but I do like him."

"If he wants to be friends, then you be the best freaking friend he's ever had."

Another Josh. Oh lord.

"What does that even mean?" I asked her before cutting up the last bit of my chicken fried steak.

She rolled her bright gray eyes while chewing. "That means just be you. You're beautiful on the inside and the outside, Kat. Just don't wear those fugly clothes I hate around him."

"Does that mean I can't wear my—"

"Yes! I've been telling you for years to burn those awful jeans. They look like something you stole from your pregnant mom twenty-six years ago."

I faked a gasp in horror; I loved those jeans. The material was super worn-in and more comfortable than cashmere, but they were pretty hideous. I wore them at home mostly.

Sometimes on grocery store runs.

I even wore them to go run other errands every once in a while.

Okay, I wore them pretty much every chance I got. "I'm not burning them, I'll just... avoid wearing them more than usual."

Zoey frowned at me over the bun of her burger. "Fine. Look, all I'm saying is this: I think you've gotten so comfortable having me, Nicole, and Josh in your life that you've quit allowing other people in because you're fine. Now, Tristan walks into your life, and I'm beyond happy that you're letting him in, but I don't want you to just give up and let him join the ranks with me and the other sluts, Kat. You want him? Get him. The Kat I know is no wuss. He chose to talk to you out of those thousand other people at the convention for some reason, and I'm going to guess it wasn't because you have nice hair, bitch."

Well, when she put it like that it made a whole lot of sense. I'd asked myself plenty of times why Tristan chose me to talk to, follow, and try to befriend out of everyone he came across. Especially when he told me that very few people knew his two identities, I questioned it. I started to feel better about not just myself but about being optimistic in the situation, but the problem was still the same.

"Zo, what am I going to do though even if he does like me? I don't want a boyfriend who does porn, and he practically refuses to talk to me about that."

She looked pensive for a moment and then nodded. "I think it's a good sign he doesn't want to talk to you about boning other chicks," she said with all the eloquence that is Zoey Quinn. "I don't know, Booger. What do you do when you get the porn star?" I knew that out of everyone, Zoey would be the only one to truly understand the situation I was in. She knew the pros and cons of being in the adult film industry but most importantly, she loved me. Zoey would never put me in a situation that would hurt me physically or emotionally. "I'd punch him in the gut if I found out he was with other girls at the same time he was with you. I guess you're, not literally, screwed."