He looks right into my eyes andstaysthere. I can see a dozen tiny emotions chasing across that pale blue. “I don’t think I stand achance,” he whispers.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean…” He swallows. “I don’t think Icanresist you, even if I should. Since we’re being honest.”
Something warm blooms in the center of my chest. “That’s OK,” I murmur. “You don’t have to.”
“I know this is a lousy question,” he adds tightly, “but… why me? You could have anyone you wanted. Like that rider. So I don’t see why you’d bother with me when I’m such a…”
I hook two fingers into his collar and give it a little shake. “Because you’re interesting. I like being around you. And you turn me on. It’s that simple.”
His low self-esteem is like a crime scene. I want to drag his parents, teachers, whoever, to the board and demand to know why they never gave this man the basic support that could have made his life softer, kinder, and considerably easier.
Tentatively, like he suspects he shouldn’t but wants to anyway, he sets his hands on my hips and rests his forehead against mine. “I don’t get it,” he says, a tiny smile breaking through, “but OK.”
“Alright, listen.” I stay exactly where I am because this is lovely and I’m greedy. “Disagree with me all you like, but here’s what I think would be great, OK?” He nods. “Number one: look into getting assessed. You might not care about the label, but it could get you easier access to adjustments that make your life better. Plus, having areasonwhy you are the way you are does help, trust me on that.”
Jacob swallows again, throat bobbing.
“And number two,” I go on, “we are one hundred thousand percent scrupulously honest with each other. About everything. Sex, feelings, whatever. No guessing games. Just plain truth. Deal?”
“Sounds… great,” he says, a little hoarse. “Sounds m-much too great to be real, actually.”
I lean back enough to catch his gaze. “And if you never want to screw me again, that is completely fine. I mean it. I’m just being upfront that I would very much like a repeat performance of Thursday night.” I smirk. “On the sofa. In your bed. In the Foxton Library bathroom. Wherever.”
“Oh, believe me, I do want that,” he says quickly. “I’ve thought of little else. It’s just…” He takes a breath. “Honesty?”
“Honesty,” I confirm.
“I get so scared of getting things wrong when I’m… having sex… that I usually just…” His cheeks flame. “I usually can’t come. But with you, I got…” He squeezes his eyes shut. “Soviolently turned on that I physically couldn’t stop it. And I’veneverhad that happen before. I was fully prepared to hide at home until your visit was over. But… Please know I’d have thought about you every single day.”
I wrap my arms around his waist and hug him properly, breathing in his scent. He smells like fir trees and clean soap and something delicious I can’t define. It’s heady. I file away an image of him in a plaid shirt and Timberlands for later personal use.
“Listen,” I murmur into his chest. “I’m here for another two weeks, give or take. I’m here for a good time, not a long time. Let’s make sure we both have fun when we see each other. However that looks. We take things as they come, build a bunch of great memories, then let them be what they are, nothing moreand nothing less. Deal?”
The look on his face when I tip my head back is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Like he’s been shoved off a cliff and landed in a sea of winning lottery tickets.
“Deal,” he says softly.
“Great.” I grin. “Now will youpleasemake me some of those legendary pancakes?”
Chapter 6
Jacob
One of the perks of working for Arcus Security is the twenty-four-hour access to top-tier healthcare, wherever you are in the world, paid for by the company. I’m not even one of the operatives or bodyguards. I sit in cybersecurity, mostly behind a screen. But Adam, the boss, doesn’t draw lines. He looks after everyone.
Within twelve hours of asking, I have an appointment with a clinical psychologist to be evaluated for autism spectrum disorder.
I’ve been running from the possibility for a long time. Finally turning to face it feels… lighter. Maybe I’m not a malfunctioning model of human, after all. Maybe I’m just built differently, in ways that can be accommodated instead of punished.
Imagine that.
The assessor is efficient without sacrificing warmth. I half-expected a drawn out process and weeks of waiting, but when I ask, she says calmly that my report will uphold a diagnosis.
I can almosthearthe click in my head as traits, habits, and catastrophes refile themselves under a new heading. Decades of “what is wrong with me” suddenly have an answer that isn’teverything.
For all ASD’s complexity, the next steps are simple. The report will be with me within a week; follow-ups are booked to discuss reasonable adjustments at work and in day-to-day life.
