I waketo the sensation of the mattress dipping behind me as someone’s large body climbs onto the bed. Skyler. It takes me a moment to realize I’m in a completely different position now to the one I fell asleep in. I’m not sure if Skyler rolled me over, of I just naturally shifted—highly likely considering I always prefer to sleep on my side. But I wouldn’t blame him if he gave me a nudge; it couldn’t have been comfortable having nearly a hundred and eighty pounds of muscle lying on top of him.
“Where did you go?” I murmur as I feel him snuggle up against my back and wrap his arm around my torso. So familiar, and perfect, and us.
“Ah, Sleeping Beauty’s awake,” he says wryly. “You finally rolled off me, so I took the opportunity to use the bathroom.”
“Sorry,” I say a little sheepishly.
I feel his lips press a feather-light kiss against the back of my neck. “It’s okay. It was nice.”
“This is nice,” I murmur. “I love having your arms around me. I’ve always loved it. Since that very first night when you snuck into my bedroom.”
“I was a needy kid, desperate for affection,” he murmurs. “You were kind enough to give it to me. I guess I never grew out of the neediness, did I?”
“It wasn’t kindness, Skyler. It was love. And that’s what it’s been every moment since.” I clasp his hand and move it over my heart. “Don’t you get it? I gave you my heart when we were seven years old. And you’ve kept it safe all these years. Why are you trying to give it back now?”
He’s quiet for a long time; all I can feel is his warm breath against my upper back as his forehead rubs over my neck. “I’m trying to protect it, Jax,” he says softly.
“By ignoring what it’s telling you?”
He lets out a frustrated sigh. “What it’s telling me doesn’t make sense.”
Damn it. Why does he have to be so smart, and logical? Iknowhe can feel how much I love him. He’s not doubting me on that. But he just can’t seem to fathom that I could possibly feel the same way about him as he does about me; that I could want a genuine romantic relationship with him that involves dating, and marriage—and, yes…physical pleasure to some extent—after being so glaringly confronted with the reality that I’m not sexually attracted to him.
I try to put myself in his place for a moment. Really,reallyget into his mind. For the past few hours—not counting the time I was asleep, obviously—there’s been an annoying little thought niggling at my mind: if the situation were reversed, I would trust him. I’d believe him when he told me he loved me, and I wouldn’t doubt that any touch of his hands on any part of my body was sincere. But I realize now I wasn’t being fair. I was viewing the situation through my own eyes, my own thoughts, my own instincts.
But Skyler’s not me. He’s guarded, and cynical, and despite the cocky, carefree attitude he shows the outside world, he’s plagued by self-doubt and insecurity. On top of that, his relationship to sex has always been somewhat…distant. With good reason. He’s not going to see a handjob as anything more than a handjob—a simple act of sexual gratification. He’s never associated words like “beautiful,” “special,” “perfect,” or even “love” with sex; and I can’t imagine any of the guys he’s been with would have ever wanted to jerk him off for the pure satisfaction of bringing him pleasure, not expecting something in return.
Combine all that with his analytical brain and it’s no wonder he’s reaching for any rational explanation he can find to help him understand why I—a guy who has never shown interest in men before—could suddenly want to stroke his dick.
It was a mistake to get physical so soon; I can see that now. At the time I was just so pleased to have found a way to make everything work between us. And then when he initiated things later, I was over the moon, figuring it meant everything was going to be okay. But we should have waited until things were more settled, until we’d had a chance to talk through everything and get on the right page. I was so caught up in what I wanted; I didn’t stop to consider how it would impact Skyler—talk about irony…
“Do you know anything about asexuality?” I mumble.
“Uh…it’s when someone doesn’t have a sex drive, right?”
Before my talk with Drew and all the Googling I did today, I probably would have said something similar, so I’m not surprised at the response. I shake my head. “No. A sex drive is completely unrelated. There are gay and straight people who don’t have a sex drive. Asexuals don’t feel sexual attraction.”
“Isn’t that—”
I know what he’s about to say and I cut him off before he can finish the thought. “It’s not the same thing, Sky. You go to a club, you see a hot guy, and you get turned on. I get horny and I don’t give a shit who I screw as long as I can get off.”
He’s quiet for a long moment, before finally asking, “What are you saying right now?”
“I’m still trying to figure it all out,” I admit. “But I think I’m ace.”
“Since when?” he asks curiously.
“Um…this morning.” It’s only as the words leave my mouth that I realize how ridiculous that sounds. “I know, I know, that sounds insane. Like I said, I’m still figuring it out. I just wanted you to know.”
“What made you even think about this?”
“Drew brought it up. Then he sent me home because I kept fucking things up at the garage, so I spent the afternoon Googling,” I explain. “I didn’t sleep at all last night, and my morning routine was all out of whack. I couldn’t concentrate for shit today.”
Skyler rubs his forehead against my shoulder. “Sorry.”
“Just don’t do it again,” I grumble.
“I still don’t really understand,” he says. “If you’re ace, how do you have sex? And how do you watch porn? I’ve seen you jerk off, and I’ve seen you screwing a woman—not that I meant to watch, but—”
