Page 106 of Pucking Strong

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“I would call them acquaintances,” he says at last. “Not strangers, but not girlfriends either.”

Thank fucking god. I let out a breath. “And the sex wasn’t any good? With any of them?”

“It was nothing,” he replies, his voice sounding hollow. “Truthfully, I just felt numb the whole time. It was like I knew what I should be doing, so, in the moment, my body did it. But my mind? I felt so detached from the whole thing, so wholly disinterested.”

Not gonna lie, he’s describing what sounds like my literal worst nightmare.

Personally, Ilovesex. I love the passion that comes from sharing energy, time, and sweat with another person. I love the physicality of it all. I love the feel of my body pressed against another, muscles straining, hands trembling. God, I can’t even imagine going robotically through the motions of sex and not feeling attached to the other person.

My problem is that sex typically comes first in all my relationships. It’s only after I’ve let myself become addicted to their physical energy that I realize their mental and emotional energy is a total mismatch with me. My most toxic trait is that I’ll usually stickaround a month too long because the physical feels too damn good. I let it cloud my rationality.

Could I ever try it Henrik’s way and go without sex altogether?

Perhaps for the right person …

I gaze across the car at him. Henrik and I really do seem to click in all other ways. We’re a case study in opposites attracting. His quiet more than matches my loud. He’s calm where I’m chaotic, rational where I’m emotional. But he’s a quiet lion who still knows how to roar. Which is the turn-on of the fucking century. It looked so effortless for him to put the press in their place tonight. Even my mother looked a little rattled. God, I wish one of my sisters had been recording it.

Maybe it’s possible.

As if he can read my mind, Henrik glances my way. “I won’t lead you on, Teddy. If I have already, I’m sorry for it. You’re just such a passionate person. I know you must be seeking that in your partner.”

I turn in my seat. “But you’re so passionate too.”

“Right,” he mutters.

“You are. Passion isn’t only sexual, Henrik. You’re fiercely protective of Karolina, and loyal to your teammates. You care deeply about justice and fairness. You saw my family treating me unfairly tonight, and you threw yourself toe to toe with my mom. And you held your own pretty good. Seriously, you have to show me how you did that. You have your convictions, and you stand by them. That’s passion, Henrik. That’s heart. What did you call me in Sweden?”

The corner of his mouth twitches with a smile. “Rent hjärta. Pure of heart.”

I think he called me that again last night. He was tired, so it was sort of mumbled. I reach across the center console and place my hand on his knee. “You have a pure heart too. Don’t let anyone dare tell you any different.” An idea sparks in my mind, and I drop my hand away, not wanting him to think I’m making some kind of pass. “Have you ever been in love?”

His smile disappears. “No. Why?”

“Well, maybe that’s your problem.”

“What?”

“You’ve never been in love with the people you’ve had sex with. You never put in the work to have a deep, meaningful connectionwith them. You know, for some people, sexual attraction can only come after there’s a relationship built first. Maybe you just needed a little more trust and emotional security. Only then could you start to see that person with an eye towards romantic interest.”

“And you know people like this?”

“I do. My friend Carrie in college identified as demisexual.”

“I don’t know that word.”

“To be demisexual is like …” I try to think of the right explanation. Latching onto an idea, I turn back to him, smiling. “It’s like Caleb and Jake Price.”

“How so?”

“Well, from what I’ve heard, Caleb has always been pretty confident in his sexuality. What do you think would have happened if he’d professed his love to Jake back in their bunny-wheeling college days?”

Henrik considers. “Jake probably would have turned him down.”

“Oh, big time. Caleb’s intensity would have sent Jake running for the hills. Because he wasn’t ready for that kind of relationship with Caleb. They both had to put in the work first. They built a friendship for years. By the time they started sneaking around during my intern year, they were basically two gnarled trees, all twisted up and grown together. The team was already calling them domestic life partners. It’s lucky there was any room left for Doc Price to squeeze herself in there.”

He smiles faintly, his mind clearly humming with this new information.

“No one would ever say that Jake Price is broken,” I add. “He just had to learn Caleb’s language first. Once he did, they could finally communicate. And just look at them now, happy as clams.”