Oakley huffs a laugh. “You’re something else, Law.”
“I’m pragmatic.”
“Oh, I don’t disagree.” He shakes his head. “And here you were trying to make me believe you might skip safe sex yourself. I see through you, you know.”
“I know,” I say plainly. “You always have.”
There goes that curious expression again. Oakley clears his throat, turning the burner off under the sauce. “You still set on that?”
“Finding a man? Yes.”
He nods in a jerk, grabbing two plates from the cupboard. “Will you date or just…”
His voice peters out, but I understand the direction of his thoughts.
“I don’t know. I’m not sure dating someone would be a good idea right now, not when I don’t even know if that’s something I want with a man. I think being upfront and honest and finding someone just for the night would be best. It should tell me what I need to know.”
“Whether or not fucking a guy is something you enjoy,” he fills in.
“Being fucked by one, but yeah.”
He grunts, moving the pot of spaghetti over to the sink before dumping the contents into a strainer. “You’ve never had casual sex.”
It’s a statement, but Oakley knows the truth of it.
“No. There’s only ever been Laura.”
The look in his eye is one of sadness when he glances my way, and I’m not sure what for. For the end of my relationship? Because I told him sex with Laura never felt like what it maybe should have?
I’m not sure if sex with a man will feel different, but I want to know. I’ve accepted the fact that I’m not like most when it comes to picking out partners. That, like Oakley said, looking at a person doesn’t bring about desire, at least not in the way Oakley described it for himself.
But I don’t know if that makes me ace or just confused. Maybe both. At the very least, I think it’s entirely possible I’m not straight, as I thought.
Maybe there’s someone out there who will fit with me in a way that feels right instead of like everything I’ve heard it’s supposed to be.Supposed to beisn’t a one-size-fits-all. I learned that the hard way with Laura, trying my best to be what she needed, convincing myself it was right because no one ever told me I might want a person differently. And that’d be okay.
Not until Oakley.
He’s moving the spaghetti noodles into a ceramic bowl now, his arms on display below the hems of his short sleeves. He’s fit, not overly bulky with muscle but a far cry more defined than I am, thanks to my sitting in front of a desk most days. I look at the back of his ear, trying to find a hint of what Oakley mentioned. Attraction that’s linked to sexual desire.
Maybe I’m just not hardwired that way. Because I’ve never looked at a man, woman, or any person and thought about what we could be in bed.
When I look at Oakley, I see comfort. Warmth. Someone I want to be near.
And yes, if Oakley were willing, I’d very much like him to fuck me so I could find out what it’s like. If he could make me feel even half of what Laura did when she pegged me, it wouldn’t be bad. Maybe it wouldn’t be that mythicalright, but I’m not sure that even exists for me.
But Oakley isn’t an option. And I can respect his decision.
Which leaves me to find a one-night stand, not the easiest thing in Darling. But there are cities nearby and plenty of options out there, I’m sure.
Oakley sets the last of the dinner items on the table, and I join him, steam wafting up from the meal. I’m surprised Bell hasn’t made her way inside to investigate, but maybe she already stole away with some food before I arrived.
“Wendy and I are going riding this weekend,” I tell Oakley. “Wanna come?”
“At the ranch?” he asks.
I nod, dishing spaghetti onto my plate, followed by a ladle of sauce and a sprinkle of parmesan cheese. Oakley shreds his own parmesan, swearing by it over the ready-made grated stuff. I can’t argue with his results.
“Yeah, I’ll come along,” he answers. “When, uh…do you think you’re gonna find someone?”
