The beer shoots directly up my nasal cavity, spraying over my arm as I attempt to cover my nose. I’m hacking and coughing, my brain burning from the alcohol wash.
“What the fuck, Iz?” I say once I can breathe again. “You can’t just start talking about butt stuff without warning a guy.”
“Exactly. Which is why it’s on the no-go list.”
I’m not really an ass-play kind of guy, but some women I’ve been with were fans of it, and I had no problem meeting their needs. It feels like if Iz is having issues with orgasming from what I can assume is basic sex, maybe she needs to expand her horizon.
“No,” I say, refusing to write it on my sheet.
Her cheeks are bright pink, and I’m not sure if it’s from embarrassment or anger. Maybe a little of both.
“What the hell, Jaxon? Are you just turning down everything I say?”
I’m really not trying to, but I apparently just committed to figuring out how to make Izzy come, and I’m not going to hamstring myself just because she doesn’t think she’ll like something.
“If, when we are having our coaching sessions, you don’t like something, I will one hundred percent stop right then and there,” I assure her. “But I don’t think we should write anything down as a no until you’ve at least tried it. You never know what you’ll like. Have you tried butt stuff?”
Izzy stands, taking the remnants of her dinner to the trash. I let her have time to think, trying not to rush her.
“Fine. I see the logic in that, but if I say stop, you stop.”
Okay, it’s a little offensive she thinks she needs to say it.
“That includes this whole thing,” she continues, motioning with her arms as if she’s trying to hug a beach ball. “If we try, and I decide I don’t want to do it anymore, we’re done.”
“Of course. You know me, I wouldnevermake you do something you don’t want to do.”
“Idon’tknow you, Jaxon. Turns out, I never did, either. Because the guy I thought I knew never would’ve left me without a word.”
“That’s not—”
She holds up her hand. “We don’t need to rehash the past. We both need each other now, so let’s make the most of this. Do you have anything else to add to the rules? Any orifices I should avoid?” she asks, clearly trying to lighten the mood.
“All orifices are free game,” I reply. “Though, this is about you. I’m not planning on getting much out of it.”
“Right,” Izzy says, grabbing my trash and turning back to the can.
“Great,” I say, drawing a line under the small list we have.
Izzy’s quiet for a minute before saying, “I think I need a set schedule. It will help me if I know when it’s going to happen instead of just getting a text that tonight’s the night.”
“Okay, if you really are my lucky charm for writing, I would like to spend any and all time with you.”
“I have workout class on Monday and Wednesday, as you know. I’d rather not miss those. Can we do Tuesday and Thursday? Maybe Tuesday is focused on your writing and Thursday is coaching?”
I consider it. “I’m going to need more than just one night for writing.”
“I can’t guarantee a specific day on the weekend with all the wedding stuff coming up, but we could tell people we’re going out but really just hang out while you write songs during weekends.”
It seems like a pretty good plan, so I nod.
Izzy’s seemingly lost in thought. Finally, I decide to break the silence. “Then we’re all set? First coaching is Thursday.”
“Yes,” she says, her gaze meeting mine as she grimaces. “All set for the most awkward night of my life. Not even night, really. Afternoon. Thursday afternoon… Fuck, maybe we should’ve picked a Friday or Saturday so I could get wasted ahead of time. I don’t know if I can do this sober.”
“It’s not going to be that bad,” I assure her, as I tap our list again. “We’ve got a plan.”
“I’m not sure we can really call that a plan, but I’ll take it.”
