Page 38 of Kiss Me, Maybe

“There are no age limits on life achievements, you know,” I tell her. “Relationships aren’t supposed to hold you back. Your lives didn’t sync, but that was far from the only problem. Youspent an awful lot of time with someone who rushed you into something you weren’t ready for, had no respect for what you do for a living, and let you do all the compromising rather than do any himself.”

“He’s not a bad guy,” she says. “Running my own bar is just a dream. It’s so wildly far out of my reach, it can’t even be called a goal. And I didn’t do nearly as much compromising as you think. Ask anyone. Ask my mom. It’s bad enough that I didn’t love him as much as he loved me. I had to go and break his heart in the most devastating way. I did that to him by being half in and half out for years.”

Her eyes are glassy, and I can’t help but think this isn’t how it’s supposed to be. She’s been holding so much of herself back, at least until now.This is why she doesn’t think she’s capable of love.She didn’t just lose Isaac when they broke up—she lost an entire group of friends. Her family doesn’t understand how smothered she felt by their expectations. It’s not that she doesn’t believe in love. She’s been made to believe she isn’t capable of it by other people. Because if she didn’t love Isaac the way she was supposed to, who could she possibly fall in love with?

“Sounds to me like you’re still trying to fill a role other people made for you,” I tell her. “You couldn’t fill the role of Isaac’s wife, so they made a new one for you.”

“And what role is that?” she asks, tired.

“Villain,” I say. “Incapable of love, romance, and serious relationships. And you’re letting them, aren’t you? You broke Isaac’s heart, and everyone convinced you that you’re a terrible person for it. That’s why you told me love isn’t for you, right? That idea didn’t come from you. It came from other people.”

“It doesn’t change the fact that it’s true.”

The first tear falls, streaking down her cheek before stopping at her chin.The Woman in Waitingcomes to mind, the singular tear track down one cheek, eyes shut in anguish. For the first time, I wonder what Krystal wrote for her commission essay for Natalia to have clocked her so well.

“Let’s talk about something else.” She clears her throat, wipes at her cheeks with the back of a hand. “Preferably not something so emotionally heavy.”

“Sure. Of course.” I nod. “What do you want to talk about?”

Her gaze settles on me. “You.”

Seventeen

Me?” I blink slowly, confused by this abrupt topic change. My chest hurts watching her wipe the tears from her face. She straightens, composing herself and clearing her throat. Tucking away this new, vulnerable side of her before I can get a closer look.

“I’ve been doing a lot of research since I found out about your identity,” she says, surprising me all over again.

“Really?” I’m stunned, but also touched that she would take the time to do that. Earlier, she described her romantic and sexual attraction so succinctly. I wonder if her research had anything to do with it.

“Yeah. There was a lot I didn’t know about the asexual spectrum, and I thought if I was going to help you with the scavenger hunt, I should know more about your identity. I wondered if you were wanting to find a partner who’s also ace-spec.”

“Not necessarily,” I tell her. “But I guess I worry sometimes about being misunderstood by an allo partner.”

“I get that,” she says. “What would you want them to know about you?”

“The usual, I guess. That just because I’ve experienced little to no sexual attraction in my life doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with me or that I’m not as into them as they are into me. And that sex isn’t everything, even if I am sex favorable. At least, I am in theory rather than in practice. That’s something I’m still trying to work through.”

“You don’t have to have it all figured out right away.”

“I know that.” I turn my head to her. “But in some ways, it feels like I do. Sex is make or break for so many people. I don’t want to put myself in an uncomfortable position like that just to break up because it turns out I don’t like having sex after all.”

“Okay, so let’s talk through it. What makes you think you’re sex favorable?”

“I’m not sex-repulsed or averse,” I say. “That’s why it took me so long to realize I was ace in the first place. I’ve never been disgusted by the idea of sex, but I can’t say I’ve ever desired it to the degree other people seem to.”

“Okay.” She nods. “This is good. Keep going.”

“Lately, I’ve been wondering if I might be graysexual or cupiosexual,” I tell her. “You’re actually part of the reason.”

“Me?” Her mouth drops open in a perfect O.

“Well, you and Sophia Bush.” I laugh. “There have only ever been two women that have made me question whether I’ve experienced sexual attraction before, and you’re one of them.” She’s silent for so long, I start to wonder if I’ve shared too much. “Is it okay that I’m telling you this?”

“Yeah, it’s okay.” She nods, voice low. “It should come as no surprise that I’mextremelyattracted to you too.”

It shouldn’t, given that I still remember the way she staredat my chest my first time in her apartment, playing nurse to my injuries. Hearing confirmation from her lips, however, fills me with an enormous amount of relief.

I’m not alone in this, whateverthisis. She’s right here with me too.

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