She nods slowly. “Yes.”
Gently running my finger down the side of her face, I remember the girl I met in the elevator only a couple of weeks ago and how innocent she was. She didn’t know what she was into or what she liked. Now, it’s like Freya is coming out of her shell. It means she feels safe with us, and that means something to me.
Something I’ve never really cared about before.
“There are lots of conversations that need to happen first, about parameters and limits and safe words. Freya,” I start, taking a deep breath, “I need to know these things don’t bother you.”
Her brow furrows. “What things?”
This topic is heavy, and I hate that I must approach it, but I do. It’s the right thing.
“I’m not ignorant, Freya. I know that kink is very different for people like Archer and me than it is for you. And yes, this may be because I have a heart of gold,” I add with a roll of my eyes. “But we would never want to hurt you. If anything we suggest or ask for makes you uncomfortable, you can tell?—”
She puts her fingers against my lips to cut me off. “I love you,” she whispers.
My heart melts in my chest, these feelings growing far faster and more intensely than I ever expected them to. The guy whoonce preferred strangers without commitment is suddenly falling in love.
“That’s why this is important,” I whisper, the sentiment caught on my tongue.
“I know what you’re trying to say, Julian, and you’re right. For people of color, kink can be more complicated. My reactions to ideas like domination and impact play might not be the same as a white person, butyouare my safe space. And I promise if anything makes me uncomfortable, I will tell you. Trust me.”
Resting my head against hers, I breathe her words in, trying to siphon some of that hopefulness from her. “I do trust you.” Changing the weight of the conversation, I ask. “Are you ready for the anniversary party?”
“I have a month and a half,” she says with a shrug.
“Can I help?”
Her mouth lifts in a smirk. “Don’t you have a sex club to run?”
“They’ve got it under control.”
Shaking her head, she ruffles my already messy hair. “Thank you, but no. I don’t need help.”
“My sister keeps asking if I’m bringing a date,” I say to carefully approach the subject.
Freya stiffens. “Are you?”
“Well,” I reply with caution. “One of my dates will be working the event.”
“So you’ll take Archer?” She’s asking with genuine curiosity. Maybe because she assumes I’m not open to taking anyone at all.
“If he wants to.” There’s hesitancy behind my words because I’m not sure how to navigate this, and I’m not sure they are either.
“Hm,” Freya replies before chewing on the inside of her cheek.
I brush my fingers over her lips to stop her as I tilt her head up toward me. “You could both be my date, you know.”
“Could we?”
“I’d like to think so,” I reply.
This is nothing new to me. My godmother is in a polyamorousrelationship. I’ve been exposed to dynamics like these my whole life. I just never anticipated that it would be so hard. So many feelings to consider. So many hearts I don’t want to break.
“I don’t know, Julian.” Standing from the couch, she paces away from me, taking her mug to the kitchen to busy herself. It dawns on me in this moment as I watch her go that Freya might be the weakest link in this scenario. I assumed it would be my anxiety or Archer’s unchecked rage, but it might be that Freya is too afraid to accept this as reality.
This is just my parents’ anniversary party. Probably the most accepting and easiest place to launch our relationship. What happens when it’s her family she has to come out to?
I don’t want to pressure her too much now, not when everything is going so well, but the doubts bury themselves like seeds in my mind. Before too long, those doubts will sprout, and there’s no telling what they’ll grow into.
