“That’s bullshit,” he growls.
“It is bullshit…” I shrug. “It’s my life, though. My first kiss was with a boy who only did it on a bet. Boys used to dare each other to ask me to school dances, but then never showed. Hell, even my friends in high school used to ditch me or neglect to invite me places because they thought I’d be too much work.”
“Those aren’t friends.”
“I’m aware, but they were all I had. Besides Anker.” I sniffle, trying to push back the threatening tears.
After my diagnosis, so many of my relationships shifted to treating me like a problem to solve. It took a bit for my parents and Anker, even if he’s still a little extra protective, to not worry so much about me. With my failing vision, friends in high school didn’t always know what to do. They just wanted to be carefree kids, so they often did not invite me. They’d grumble how annoying it was if I asked for help, so I stopped asking. What they didn’t realize was I just wanted to be a carefree kid, too. Instead, on top of my failing eyesight, I worried about both being too much and, somehow, not enough to belong.
“I was really lonely, and when I went to undergrad, I hoped it would be different. I met some girls early on who befriended me.They were upperclassmen and in a sorority. They invited me to pledge. I couldn’t believe it. I had friends and would have sisters. Only, I found out that particular sorority had a bad reputation and thought a blind member would help revamp their image. When I declined to join, they dropped me.”
“Assholes.”
“That they were.” I sigh. “Meeting people is always hard, but when you have a disability, there’s an extra layer, so when Chase came along… I was starved for connection. It started off so innocent. We worked together at the student union. Everyone had a crush on him.”
“Including you?”
“Yep.” I blow out a long breath.
Those first few weeks with Chase were reminiscent of a sappy Hallmark movie. Random run-ins on campus turning into long walks, talking about books and music. Those walks turned into trying the different sugary lattes at the campus coffee shop. Then sitting crossed-legged in beanbags, an open pizza box between us, laughing at some stand-up comedy special on TV. To sweet kisses as he told me I was cute. Before I knew it, those sweet kisses morphed into his hand up my shirt, murmuring, “Let me be your first.”
“I thought we were together. Like, that he was my boyfriend. He was the first man I had sex with.” I clear my throat before I say the only man I’ve had sex with.
I’m doing enough emotional oversharing tonight. Garrett doesn’t need to know that at twenty-nine, I have only kissed three men and had sex with one man just a handful of times. Though I imagine in the five years of me being single since we’ve met, it’s not a secret that I’m unpracticed. As much as I’ve fantasized about other men, including the one who stands patient and quiet in front of me, I’ve been gun-shy about sex.Miles is the first man I seriously considered having sex with since Chase.
“I really liked Chase, and I thought I was special to him. But I was so wrong.” I shift foot-to-foot. “Right before winter break, I found out he had a girlfriend back home. I was just someone he thought he could…” I swallow the emotions clogging my throat, their truth stinging the entire way down. “Guess I am just the girl you have fun with for some guys after all.”
“Fuck them,” he snaps. “Fuck them for making you think that… Just fuck them. It’s total bullshit.”
“I know.” I slide my fingers beneath my glasses and wipe at the tears that have started to crest.
“Do you?” He tilts his head. “Because I don’t think you do.”
“I don’t need a lecture, Garrett,” I say, my brow puckering.
“I think you do.” He tilts his head almost like a gunslinger in a campy western.
“Not from you.” I reach out and poke his chest, ignoring how firm it is.Vagina, we are mad at him right now, do not clench.
“There she is,” he says, his tone pleased.
“Excuse me?” I arch one eyebrow.
“Why can’t you be this Jensen with everyone else?”
“What Jensen is that?” I say, pursing my lips.
“The pain-in-the-ass, takes no shit Jensen you are with me. No matter how I push or challenge, you never back down. You never worry about saying how you feel with me, and sometimes I wish you would.”
“I don’t know, maybe you're special.” I narrow my eyes at him.
Because I really don’t know. With most people, I’m tied up in knots about not asking too much or somehow being too much. With Garrett, I just exist. I never worry about saying the wrong things, because as much as we can bicker and poke at each other, he never leaves. And for some reason, neither do I.
“Lucky me,” he says, humor shading his words. “Come with me.”
“Where?”
“To someplace we can work on this.”
