Steve has a satisfactory life. He's a thirty-five-year-old software engineer with a good job, a clean apartment, and dinner on the stove. His sister Brittney disagrees about the satisfactory part.

So she sends him to Blush, a lesbian bar, for one drink. Steve treats it as an experiment designed to fail. He's a man, the patrons are lesbians, and rejection should settle the argument for good.

There's just one problem, and it's the same one Steve has had his whole life. Strangers don't see what he sees in the mirror. They never have. They see a beautiful woman, five-foot-six and delicate, and no amount of rolled sleeves, deep voices, or aggressively manly posture has ever convinced them otherwise. It drives him up the wall. He has never once asked himself what it means.

At Blush, nobody even blinks. Then five women at a corner table, who argue with the comfortable hostility of people who love each other, invite him to sit down. There's Chloe, who sees him first. Nat, who provokes him. Tori, who demands definitions. Maddie, who invents a cocktail-napkin accountant named Dennis. Sofia, who laughs at all of it.