His fingers run lazily through my hair. “I know that feeling.”
My lips curl into a smile, and I kiss his pec. “It gives me hope, hearing you acknowledge that.”
He turns slightly so we can see each other. “Accepting you as you are means I need to accept myself as I am. And I’m working on that. The definition of my sexuality has shifted, because if I cling to saying I’m straight, I’m just seeing you as a woman. And that’s not fair to either of us.”
I could kiss him for saying that alone.
“I appreciate that. Picking from all the other options of what you then are is harder. For me, being so young when it happened, picking the right label felt so permanent. It felt crucial to get it right the first time. Mom was a great help.”
Catfish kisses me, his lips brushing mine, first tenderly, and then with depth. “I hate the idea that since your mom died, it’s been you against the world all this time. I want to protect you from all that.”
“Where were you when I started dating?”
Catfish sighs. “I have to be honest. I think if we’d met ten years ago, I would have cared too much about what the rest of the world would think about the two of us. I was so deeply rooted in my own ego and earning my place in the club that I might have thought it too much of a risk.”
I curl into him fully. Without words, I want him to know I appreciate him being honest with me. I place my hand beneath his thick hoodie.
His skin is so warm beneath my palm, still lightly tanned after a summer spent outside. While everyone wants to hear that the person they are with would have wanted them in every lifetime, I understand what Catfish is saying. As Niro told me, the MC world isn’t ready for diversity, and back then, people may well have looked at Catfish differently.
In the rare moments I wondered about what it would be like to have another person with me in my house with lots of dogs, I always quickly dismissed the idea. Because I was sure I wouldnever find someone willing to put in the effort to love me for who I am.
But I see a kernel of that in Catfish. Because so far, he’s tried really fucking hard to get it right.
“When I came out, I was terrified of dating,” I admit. “I wasn’t sure how to explain myself. Or when. I remember the first one-night stand I had after coming out and the guy talked to me like I was a woman, paid the bill for our drinks, held the cab door open, was a gentleman, the whole nine yards. Even in bed, he kept checking in and was surprised when I did the same. When he left, I got in the shower and cried because it felt so…dysphoric.”
At my words, Catfish blows out a breath.
He’s silent.
And I wonder how he’s going to respond to that, almost as much as I want to know who’s after me.
28
CATFISH
Itighten my arms around Wren’s shoulders, pulling them closer and pressing a kiss to the top of their head.
There are two parts of me listening to their story. The part that hates the fact Wren has battled these levels of confusion on their own since their mom died. Wondering why people can’t just be more accepting instead of judging. And the piece of me that’s wondering how what the two of us do together changes.
“I can only imagine what it feels like to feel so displaced in your own body. I’ve always had it easy. Once I was big enough, no one fucked with me. Did that happen a lot?”
“So much about gender is about other people’s perception. You can’t really tell a person’s gender just by looking at them. You can’t know if someone is intersex on the subway. I’ve had to grapple with the societal expectation that, as someone who is non-binary, I should present more androgynously to the world to avoidtheirconfusion. Like, if I don’t seemotherenough, I won’t be treated as non-binary. Because of the way I look, people often treat me as a woman. But I’m proud of how I present, even though there are things I want to change. I’ve made peace withwho I am and how I might evolve. Some days, I wish all this was a non-issue. That no one ever asked for an explanation of who I am, so I could just spend my time fishing instead of justifying my existence.”
I place a palm over my heart. “You love fishing?”
Wren nods. “Bait, fly, spinning, trolling. One day, I’m gonna do deep-water big-game fishing.”
Love the idea we could do it together. Because of the ranch, Atom can’t get away as often as he’d like, so sometimes I come up here alone. Many a time I’d sit here at night and wonder what it would be like to find a wife to sit with me. Guess maybe that was the only detail I got wrong in the daydream.
It won’t be a wife. It’ll be someone more special than that.
“Never done big game. Done a lot of everything else. We’ll do it. When all this is over. Heard the Keys and Miami are perfect in January. I’ll make plans.”
“Or I will. I’m happy to be the breadwinner, the protector, the builder of our home.”
“Guess we’re going to have some interesting conversations in our future,” I say.
“About what?” Wren sits up a little, and I miss having them snuggled against me.
