“No. I was embarrassed.”
“If she didn’t see how amazing you were, then that’s her loss.” I hated that he didn’t see how anyone, even a famous rock star, would be lucky to have him.
“I couldn’t get hard.”
“W-what?” I spluttered, not expecting any of this to come from Jas. I mean, he’d never really dated since we’d lived out here, but I thought that was more because of how much we worked rather than because he didn’t want to.
“I told her I loved her because I couldn’t get hard. We’d kissed, she’d touched me, made it very obvious where she wanted to take things, and I couldn’t get hard. I told her I loved her to deflect. I was mortified about what happened. I chased her to London to try to explain and make sure she wouldn’t tell anyone that I was some broken freak who couldn’t get hard for a hot, famous singer.”
“Jas,” I whispered.
“Don’t be nice to me or tell me it’s normal. It’s not. I’m not. There’s something wrong with me, Travis.” His voice cracked. “And don’t tell me that it was a one-off because that’s not the worst of it.”
I was speechless.
Jasper sat up, pulled his knees to his chest, and wrapped his arms around his bent legs.
“The first time I had sex, I cried.” His hair hung forward, making him look afraid and vulnerable, as if I would judge him for his admission. I couldn’t resist turning towards him and tucking the strands behind his ear, loving how he sighed in response.
I tried to refocus back on what he’d been telling me. “But you’ve had sex and enjoyed it?”
He shook his head a tiny amount. “No. I’ve only done it a couple of times. There was the crying time that was over before it started, the next time I faked my orgasm as I couldn’t come, and then one time, I got so drunk I’m not sure what happened, and then there was Hallie... Astrid.”
My mouth fell open. I should have tried to hide it better, but I couldn’t. “Jas?—”
He didn’t let me speak. “Yeap, I know. I told you. I’m fucking broken. My therapist thinks I’m depressed because I fail to make meaningful relationships, as I’m scared of rejection.”
He yawned, and I glanced outside, noticing the rain easing. Jasper pushed himself onto the sofa and lay down, putting his head in my lap. “Sleepy,” he muttered.
I readjusted the blanket so it covered him.
“We have a meaningful relationship,” I reassured him.
He sighed, rolling on his back, his long legs hanging over the arm of the sofa. His eyes creased around the edges as he stared up at the ceiling in the lit-by-moon room. “You’re so easy to be around.”
My cheeks heated. “Maybe you’ve not met the right woman, or...”Was I really going to say the words that were sitting on the tip of my tongue?
“Or?”
I twisted my lips, trying to decide if I could vocalise what I was thinking.
“Maybe you’re not into women.”
FIVE
JASPER
Not into women.
Travis’ words left a funny taste in my mouth as I thought about them. Of course I was into women. I mean, I’d had sex. Yes, I’d hated every second of it and never wanted to do it again, but I’d never thought about a man like that. Since the Astrid incident, I’d wondered if I was asexual, but the idea of kissing a man, having one touch me, fuck me or me fuck them—I shuddered.
Despite the blanket over me, my skin heated and my usually dormant cock twitched against my thigh. But it was just because I was thinking about sex, wasn’t it? Not sex with men, but just sex in general. That was all this was. Proof that I wanted to have sex.
I rolled over onto my stomach awkwardly on the too-small sofa, lifting my feet into the air like some teenage girl at a sleepover, balancing my chin on my fist. Trav laughed when he looked at me.
“You’re so drunk.” He shook his head.
“Am not,” I lied, the alcohol burning my stomach, sloshing around when I moved.
