It’s the first time he’s the one to bring up my biggest insecurity, and it’s sweet that he honestly seems concerned about me rather than wanting all the sordid details of my quest to find the ever-elusive O.
“Not yet.” I sigh.
“Have you been practicing a lot?” I can hear the genuine curiosity in his question.
“Maybe.” He doesn’t push any further, but I offer, “I did some research, and it said audio porn worked for a lot of women better than the visual stuff. So, I paid for a month of access to a site that Mandy recommended.”
“And?”
I shrug even though he can’t see me. “It was a lot more comfortable for me than trying to watch the visual stuff,” I admit. “But all I could think was that I knew the scenarios weren’t real. I don’t know those people, and they don’t care about me either.”
There’s a long pause, and I wonder if Jordan fell asleep, but his voice is quiet and strained when he speaks again. “Do you think it would help to try with…someone who does care about you?”
Would it help?
Or would it make our entire situation infinitely more complicated than it already is?
I want to tell him about the crush I’ve been harboring for years, which has only grown since I accidentally sent that voice message. I want to tell him about the way my stomach squeezes and my palms get sweaty every time I see his name pop up on my phone screen, and how for the first time in my life, I actually like feeling those things. I want to tell him that being near him makes me more comfortable in my own skin, and I feel empty when he’s not next to me. How I haven’t been able to stop thinking about our kisses. But all those thoughts are coming too fast, one on top of the other, and I know I’ll never be able to get them out the way I want to, the way he deserves to hear. So instead, I gather my courage, determined to show him.
I blink up at the wooden slats and suck in a shaky breath, knowing his body is stretched out only inches above them. “Maybe?”
“Do you, um, do you want me to try to walk you through it?”
He’s trying to help you manage a medical condition,I remind myself. Plus, after what he’s confided in me about his own sexuality, I know it’s possible that even if he does want me, it might not be to the same degree I want him.
But I do want him.
And hedidkiss me. Thrice.
So, I ask, “Can you come down here?”
It only takes a few seconds before he’s sliding into the bottom bunk with me. I pull up the covers so he can get under them, and we lie facing each other, our bodies pressed close in the limited space of the twin bed.
I want to be clear with him. “I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do. If this is too much, you can tell me.”
Jordan shakes his head. “If you think for one second that I don’t want to do this, then you are severely misreading the situation.” He scoots forward until there is only a breath of space between us, and his hand comes up to cup the back of my head. His fingers grasp my hair as he leans his face into mine.
“I thought…” I pause to gather the courage to tell him, “I thought maybe you didn’t feel it. At least not as much as I do.”
Jordan’s skin brushes mine as he shakes his head. “That’s not how it works. Or maybe for some people it is, I don’t know.” He straightens and shrugs, then his eyes lock on mine. “For me, it’s more like…Well, have you ever seen Shrek?”
“Yeah?” I have no idea where he could be going with this.
“Okay, so you know how Shrek met Fiona when she was all conventionally attractive, but he really fell for her after she showed him her true form?”
“Sure.” I nod along.
“That’s kind of how it is for me.”
“You like me now because you’ve seen me be ugly?”
He laughs softly. “I doubt you could ever be ugly, no matter how hard you tried. But sort of. I like you because you let me know you. The real you. The messy, chaotic, disorganized cyclone who somehow loses one sock.”
I look down at my feet poking through the covers, where sure enough, one of my fuzzy socks has disappeared and the magenta polish is chipping on my uncovered toes.
Jordan is still smiling when he says, “No one has ever gotten into my head the way you have. Andthat’swhy I want you.”
It’s my turn to smile at him. “Really?” When he nods, I tell him, “That’s good. Because you’re in my head, too.”
