Page 23 of Curious
I nod. “I don’t want to ever make you feel bad. I’m not going to, um, use you. To figure out my sexuality, I mean.”
“Thanks.” Shelby lowers his voice. “Then we’re lucky we have our relationship defined. It’s to get you health insurance because you helped save me, and it’s the least I could do to pay you back for getting hurt in the process.”
“Shelby. You don’t owe me anything.”
“Okay, but in any case, you’re straight.”
“Straight-ish,” I correct.
His jaw drops open, and it would be comical if my heart weren’t pounding right now. “What?”
I shrug. “I’m not sure Iamstraight.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
We fall silent.
Why is my heart beating so fast? It must be the margarita. It must. The server interrupts us to tell us our meals will be out soon.
Shelby looks miserable. I want to kiss the frown off him, but that doesn’t respect what he needs.
I squeeze his shoulder. “How about this? You’re not my experiment without your express consent, every step of the way. Just know that if I were to do anything with a man, I think I’d do it with you.” That statement makes all the butterflies in my stomach flutter.
“Thanks.” He presses his lips together, then gives a little nod. “I still want to kiss you, though. I, uh, like it. I like being affectionate.”
“Will that mess with your head?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Then we can kiss on your terms.” If he needs space to figure out what’s okay, I can give it to him.
He sets his shoulders. “I’m good with it. Kissing, I mean. Kiss me as much as you want.”
I do—kiss him again, that is, though maybe not as much as I want, since while the restaurant isn’t busy in the middle of the afternoon on a weekday, we are still in a public place—and it feels just as amazing as the other times.
Maybe labels don’t matter. Maybe I can just concentrate on how this feels—he’s aggressive but, at the same time receptive, and I’m really digging it. And I know we won’t go any further.
Why do I feel disappointed?
“Anything else you want to do today?” I ask, when we break apart.
He swallows hard. “Nah. I think we’ve had enough excitement for one day. Noah only gave me half the day off, so I’ll need to drop you at home, then go back to work. I can make you an appointment to get your ankle looked at. Do you have a regular doctor?”
I shake my head.
“Want to go to mine? Dr. Logan usually sets aside a block of time for urgent appointments.”
“That would be great, yeah.”
Our meals arrive, and we dig in.
* * *
At home, I take off my wedding suit and boutonniere, put on sweatpants and a T-shirt, and ice my ankle. Moving around so much today really did a number on me, so I settle on the couch to watch a marathon ofGoing RV. When Shelby comes back after work, he knocks on the glass door and comes in, then cringes yet again at the bare-bones conditions. I cringe, too, because he’s right that the place is basically uninhabitable.
My heart does a happy little flip at the sight of his friendly face, and I turn the TV off. It’s good to see him, even though we spent hours together this afternoon.
