Chapter Sixteen
Ezra
Irving opened the door to his apartment almost immediately, almost like he had been waiting there for me. He had on an old shirt from a Blondie concert, and his hair was slickly parted to the side, still damp from the comb.
“Nice tunes,” I said, strolling inside.
“Oh, thanks,” he said awkwardly, gesturing to his couch. “I kind of collect punk records.”
“Cool.”
“Can I offer you some tea or coffee?”
“Tea is great!”
While he hurried off to the kitchen, I took a minute to appreciate the apartment. You could tell it was his workplace as well as his home, and I knew from our date that Irving spent long hours working on coding projects for different startups and tech companies around town. His computer desk was positioned right in the living room, and honestly, it looked like it was more the focus of the place than the couches and seating arrangements. He even had a little fridge set up by the desk and multiple monitors facing the chair.
I pictured him sitting there, working away the hours while listening to his record collection. It was kind of charming, but I also remembered what else Irving had said about his social life. He apparently hadn’t had many friends since his ex-boyfriend left him, and I could see how spending all day staring at a screen would make it hard for him to meet new people.
Irving came back in, blowing on a cup of tea that he handed off to me, then setting a little dish of creamer and sugar on the coffee table. “I like your overalls.”
I tucked my thumb under the strap with a smile, modeling the look. “Thanks! I like it because of all the pockets in the bib. When I’m drawing, I can keep my pencils handy. Otherwise, I always end up losing the ones I’m not working with.”
Joining me on the couch, Irving folded his legs underneath himself. It had been a week since our date at the Laser Dome, and we had texted on and off most days. I would keep him updated on the latest developments at Northstar, and we would exchange little jokes back and forth. I’d felt sweet about him the whole time, from the morning when we woke up in my bed together on, but we hadn’t yet found a time to talk about the date itself. As we sat in his apartment with the fan spinning on the ceiling, I realized I was a little anxious to have the conversation.
I could tell that Irving was nervous, too because he got that concerned scowl on his face. I was starting to think it was kind of sexy, in a way. His eyebrows would get all scrunched up, and his lips would twist sideways. It was almost like he was brooding, or like there was some storm inside of him that he hadn’t let me see yet. But then I’d warm him up a little bit, and his smile would come back, and I’d feel like I connected with the real Irving again.
Knowing that he wasn’t about to start the conversation himself, I jumped in first. “Thanks again for such a nice night last weekend and for sleeping over. It was cute to have breakfast with you and Clark the next morning.”
His eyes lit up, glad to have the approval. “Yeah, thank you! Clark is really nice. I’ve seen him around the shop, but never really talked before.”
“He likes you, too. I thought it probably made sense for you and I to check in with each other about the date, also.”
“How do you mean?”
I took a sip of my coffee, then pulled my legs up on the couch so that I could face Irving directly. “About sex and all that,” I offered, matter-of-factly.
Irving’s eyes got wide, and he glanced around the room nervously. “Oh, sure! If you want. I mean, did I do something that upset you?”
“Not at all!” I said, jumping in to reassure him. I reached across the couch and laid my hand on his leg, making sure to keep eye contact so he didn’t look away. “I felt great about it afterward. Did you?”
Irving nodded. “Yeah, definitely.” He thought for a moment, still biting down on his lip. “What did you want to check in about, then?”
I was used to people being way more uncomfortable talking about sex than I was. Even though I didn’t have much experience, my moms had raised me with a really straightforward attitude about everything. They taught me that being open and honest with other people was the best way to make sure that everyone was having a good time and getting their needs met. As soon as people stopped communicating, there would be hurt feelings, misunderstandings, and sometimes worse to deal with.
It was one of the reasons I should have known better than to have sex with my one previous partner. He hadn’t wanted to talk about anything, and when I tried to communicate with him afterward, he disappeared in a cloud of smoke. A part of me had been suspicious about him from the start, but I didn’t listen to that voice in the back of my head, feeling too eager to have sex and lose my virginity. If we had actually talked, I would have realized he was looking for something very different than what I was looking for.
I didn’t want to make a mistake like that again. I knew that Irving wasn’t going to run away from me, but I also didn’t want to mess things up just because it had been too awkward to talk about sex. My moms had taught me better than that.
“Well, I was curious how you’re feeling, now that we’ve had a little space. I know we both like each other, but I also know that we’re a little less than sexually compatible, too.”
Irving’s face quivered between that stern expression and something warmer. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I just really have never talked about this. My family was strictly against sex ed, and Mario was as bad at sharing his feelings as I am.”
I patted his leg again, wishing I could make this easier for him. It was no wonder that Mario refused to talk. Keeping things silent made it a lot easier to carry on a secret romance with the guy’s roommate.
“That’s no problem, and I understand that most people find this awkward. Hell, I think it’s kind of awkward, too. Like, hello, we’re talking about touching each other’s cocks and butts.”
Irving lightened a little bit at hearing me say that, giggling to himself and seeing some of the humor. “I guess the question is—do we want to go on another date?”
