Page 39 of If You Say So

“But it wasn’tthemoment?”

“No,” he tells me, shaking his head. “There were others. I’d…” He pauses and scratches at his chest. “I’d notice little things, like the way you’d smirk at your own inside joke. How you remember the strangest facts about people and try to bring them up in conversation, showing how you pay attention. The way your touch would linger. Your eyes.”

NowI’mthe one blushing.

“What about you?” he asks. “When did you realize?”

“Honestly? I had a suspicion I was bi before the whole porn incident. I was sitting at a solid sixty percent, and that bumped it up to ninety.”

“And the other ten percent?”

“That came from the multiple masturbation sessions I had with you in mind.”

He kicks at me. “You did not.”

“Oh, trust me, I did—a lot.”

“Did?” he dares to ask.

I grin at him. “Do.”

His entire face lights up, but only for a moment. Then his lips are falling to a hard line, his eyes dimming and filling with questions.

“What?” I prompt.

“What does this mean for us? We like kissing each other, right? Are we going to do…more?”

“I’d like to do more eventually,” I tell him honestly.

“I’d like that too. Do… Are we… Is this…”

I wait, knowing what he’s going to ask.

I can’t help him with this one, can’t coax him into asking. I can’t feed him lines or ideas. He needs to get there on his own, and I know he will.

I’m unaware of how long we sit there in the quiet, how long it takes for him to muster up the courage to ask me, how much I sweat anticipating his words.

“I’m not really sure how I’m supposed to ask this. I don’t know the proper phrasing for things.”

“Okay.”

He pushes out a heavy breath. “Do you want to date?Arewe dating? Is this a relationship?”

“Yes.”

“To which question?”

“All of it.”

There isn’t a moment of hesitation from me, and I can see he’s pleased with my prompt response. I push myself up on my knees and edge closer to him. He grins up at me, welcoming me as I straddle his lap. His hands go to my waist and my palms cover his cheeks.

I rest my forehead against his and place a quick kiss to the tip of his nose.

“Can I tell you something without you freaking out?” I ask.

He doesn’t answer right away, and I kind of like that. “I can’t make any promises. This whole situation kind of freaks me out.”

“Me too,” I admit. “And that’s kind of what I want to talk about. Knowing our families, the society we live in, there will be backlash if we make a go at this. We’ll probably lose friends, and have shitty people say shitty things about us, but at the end of the day, we’ll have each other.” I let out a shaky breath. “That’s what makes me say I’m ready and willing to jump feet first into this with you.”

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