Page 85 of The Spellreader and the Phoenix

“But?” Rory prompted.

“There isn’t a but.”

“There’s always a but.”

Max rolled his eyes, but he looked amused, and his demeanor relaxed the more they bickered.

“I really enjoyed it.” He looked a little uncomfortable. “If I’m being perfectly honest, I haven’t had sex very often, and in the past, it was because I felt like I should, or I wanted to see what all the fuss was about—and I’d determined that all that fuss was about nothing.”

Rory only smiled. “It’s definitely not for everyone, despite what popular culture would have you believe.”

“I didn’t expect to like it with you—I mean,” Max hastened to clarify, “not until I was suddenly interested. I only did that because I was interested for the first time ever, really properly interested.”

“I’m glad,” Rory said, and then realized how that might sound. “I’m glad you didn’t do something just because you thought I wanted it.”

“Ace people can choose to have sex because their partner wants it,” Max pointed out, a bit of a challenge.

“True,” Rory agreed. “People make all sorts of decisions and compromises in a relationship, and it can be hard to navigate when interests don’t align—about anything, not just sex. But I want to be sure that you know that I’d feel more comfortable not having sex than having sex because you feel like you should or because you only want to please me. That wouldn’t actually please me, I promise.”

Max regarded him seriously for a long moment, and then he nodded. “Yeah, that’s fair. And I promise that I’ll be honest about this. You’ve amply demonstrated since I’ve known you that you’d never push me to do anything I didn’t want. And at least at this point, I really do think I’m demisexual. In the last week, I’ve been both attracted to you and aroused by you. That’s the first time that’s ever happened to me, but I’ve never let anyone get as close to me as you are, so it’s only mostly embarrassing that it took until I’m nearly forty to figure this out.”

“You’re thirty-eight,” Rory pointed out. “You still get to say you’re in your thirties.”

Laughing, Max said, “Thanks for splitting that hair. I really appreciate it.”

Rory grinned at him. “I think a lot of society is structured around an arbitrary notion of ‘standard behavior.’ And people who fall within that standard probably find it easier to navigate than everyone else. But you don’t have to know your gender identity from the moment you were born or your sexuality from childhood or puberty or your twenties. People are constantly learning and growing and maturing, and why wouldn’t it make sense that those aspects of yourself could be growing, too?”

Max sighed. “Yeah, when you put it that way, it seems perfectly reasonable.”

Rory laughed. “I know it’s not always straightforward, but I promise that when it comes to me, at least, everything is open and accepting. If you enjoyed that and don’t want to do it again for a week or a month or forever, that’s okay. If you thought you liked it in the moment but once you’ve had time to think about it, you didn’t like it after all, or you don’t like how it makes you feel afterwards, that’s okay, too. Whatever you’re feeling is correct and valid.”

Max was regarding him with an expression Rory couldn’t quite identify, and then he said, “Mostly, I’m wondering why I didn’t meet you ten or twenty years ago.”

A shiver swept over Rory, and he felt his eyes tear up. He sniffed. “That’s such a sweet thing to say. I’ve mostly been in the wrong place at the wrong time, just waiting to run into your bookshop window, I guess.”

Max snorted. “Yeah, I suppose we each had our own stumbling way of getting here.”

Rory’s way had certainly been circuitous.

“The important thing is that we’re here now,” Rory said firmly. “And there’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

“Me, either,” Max agreed.

Rory wondered if this was close enough to Max accepting him as his mate that Rory could tell him everything. If he should tell him everything. Well, obviously, he should, but was this the right time? Was it enough? As soon as he considered it, he dismissed it. Of course tonight wasn’t the right time. This was a big change for Max in how he saw his sexual identity, and throwing something else at him would not be helpful. Plus, the last thing Rory wanted was for Max to think his interest or acceptance was contingent on sex.

No, it just sounded more and more like Max wanted Rory in his life, and that hopefully meant as his mate, and that meant it was almost time to tell Max everything… and hopefully not scare him off.

It had been a while since Rory had seen any of his fellow mythical shifters. He wondered if any of them had found their mates recently and if they’d had trouble navigating the secrecy versus honesty. How could anyone agree to be their mate without knowing the truth? But they were supposed to be their mate to find out the truth… Had someone proposed revising the plan yet? Was Rory working with an outdated model?

Rory would try to figure out how they could discuss that later, after he’d figured out how to talk to his mate.

They finished getting ready for bed and then climbed in together, a bit earlier than normal, but that just gave more reading time. Rory could tell that Max liked the proof that nothing major had changed just because they’d gotten off together on the couch. Rory was more than ready to show Max that he meant every word he’d said.

They read for about an hour and a half, and then Max set his book aside, so Rory did the same. Max seemed a little bit fidgety.

Rory asked, “Shall I be Red tonight?”

Max’s eyes flew to his, surprise and relief in them, so Rory knew he’d guessed right. “You wouldn’t mind?”