“I mean, yeah. Fair. That’s probably what I’d tell someone else, too. But what’s the difference between a queer guy who only sometimes likes women and a straight man with a low sex drive?”
“Probably how you feel about the idea of dating outside of that pool. What do you think about dating people who aren’t women?”
Once again, my shoulders rise and fall. “I’m more drawn to personalities than physicality. I think I’d be open to it. But you would think if that were going to happen it would have happened by now, right? I was serious about not being attracted to people often. So far, all of my experience has been with women. But maybe that’s just because those are the people I’ve happened to be attracted to.”
Shelley’s tongue darts briefly out of the corner of her mouth, her nose still scrunched. It still looks like she wants to say something, but she’s holding back, trying to be a supportive listener.
“I know,” I tell her. It’s easy to predict what she wants to say. “Those don’t exactly sound like the thoughts of a straight guy, right? But…” I don’t know what else to tell her. Or myself.
If this is my ticket into the alphabet community, it feels like cheating. My lack of desire for most humans is not really a hardship. It’s not something I’m ever going to be discriminated against for feeling, especially when I’m dating women. I won’t be denied a job or a marriage license over it. It won’t affect my ability to have kids. At most, some people in my life might rib me a little until I settle down with someone, but I can’t see anyone we know acting that way. It hardly feels fair to include myself as a member of the queer community when I can pass for straight so easily. I know other people fight hard to gain access to things I have handed to me. But I also know they put the letters Q and A in LGBTQIA+ for a reason, not to mention the plus sign. I guess I could be the reason?
“All I know is it’s pretty rare for me, but I do become attracted to people sometimes, especially after I spend a lot of time with someone and get to know them well.”
Like now. The way I keep having to stop my eyes from glancing down her shirt. The way my mouth waters when sheraises her arms to fix her ponytail and her flowery scent drifts over to me.
Plus, I do like sex. It’s just usually pretty low on my priority list.
“So, you’re demi?” Shelley’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts. “Sorry if it’s insensitive to ask, but I’ve read about that. It comes up a lot in my research when I’m trying to sort out my own stuff. Not to make it about me.”
“You’re fine. And to answer your question, I think so. Or something close. I think if I felt that spark more often, I might be pan. But I rarely feel it, so I guess that makes me demi?”
The definition seems to fit. Demisexuality is when you need an emotional connection with someone before you develop a sexual attraction to them. The demi label seems closest to how I feel, but there’s so much controversy over whether or not it’s dismissive of people who are truly asexual that whenever I try to look it up I end up feeling bad about myself and giving up the search.
“I don’t know if I’ll ever find exactly the right label, and at this point in my life I don’t know if it really matters. So, to answer your original question, I’ve seen porn, but I’m indifferent to it. It’s no different to me than looking at a painting in a museum or looking at my own arm right now. I only see bodies. I don’t get turned on by it.”
Shelley nods along and squeezes my hand, encouraging me to tell her as much as I want. I’ve never said any of this out loud to anyone, and it’s a little bit terrifying, but also a huge relief to finally be open about this part of myself. I appreciate how she’s not talking too much or trying to rush me.
“I knew I was a little bit different when my friends started talking about stealing the lingerie catalogues out of neighborhood mailboxes the day they were delivered. I couldn’t understand the appeal. I’ve never had a physical reaction to apicture or a video of a stranger. But I do know when someone’s attractive,” I tell her. “I have eyes. I know you’re hot, for example. But with most people it’s similar to looking at a paint color or a piece of art and thinking ‘that looks nice.’ My thoughts rarely go beyond that unless I get to know someone really well. When that happens, I get these intense crushes, and I start to catch feelings…hard.” I don’t want to scare her off, but this isn’t something I can control, and it’s starting to happen with her.
“So, what I’m hearing is you think I’m hot?” she says, poking my calf with her toe.
“What happened to not making this about you?” I tease, making her laugh.
“Thank you for sharing that with me Jordan. Really. Although, I mean, it might be alittleabout me. We’ve gotten to know each other pretty well, and apparently you think I’m a total smoke show.” She winks as she embellishes. Little does she know, she’s not wrong.
“True.”
“And I know it’s not exactly the same, but if it helps, I feel very similarly about labeling my health issues. I wish I had an answer, but ultimately, I’m not sure getting that answer will change much about my situation anyway. So, I think I might get how you feel, at least a little.”
Is it warm in here? A bead of sweat trickles down my spine, and her eyes are fixed on my mouth as I lick my lower lip. I don’t think I can lie to myself anymore.
I like this woman. A lot.
But wecan’t.Mike is truly a brother to me, and family is something I don’t take lightly. She bites her bottom lip and my body stirs. Shelley Miller is going to be the death of me, if her brother doesn’t kill me first.
Chapter 10
Shelley
Jordan’s eyes stay locked with mine while he says, “Your mom was right earlier, you know, that dress looked really good on you tonight.”
“But in the neutral, looking-at-paint kind of way, right?” I smile and nudge him.
He returns a smirk of his own as he shakes his head. “No.”
His head tilts to the side so slightly it’s barely perceptible, but I notice, and I watch as his tongue sneaks out to wet his lips. His focus moves from my eyes to my mouth, then back again.
I’m so confused. It’s the universal sign that he wants to kiss me, and I amdefinitelyputting out “kiss me” vibes of my own. But he’s told me that he never hooks up during the season, and he alsojustsaid he doesn’t feel attracted to people most of the time.
