Page 30 of Rock the Cradle of Love
“Of course I do.” He leans in to suck on Noah’s nipple as if to prove his point.
Noah slides a hand over Taylor’s head and then cups his chin to bring their gazes level. “Then why have you been avoiding it for the last week and a half, two weeks? Every time we start something or we get so far, you pull back. And I know you’re aroused because I can feel it.”
Taylor sits up and slings his arms around his knees. “Took you long enough to notice,” he says although it’s not said unkindly.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Noah’s confused. “I cottoned on a week ago, and I wasn’t sure until last night if it was just—I don’t know—something going on that had nothing to do with me and would resolve itself, but that’s not the case, is it?”
A large sigh heaves Taylor’s chest and he shakes his head. “No. I…”
“Are you having second thoughts about us?”
“What? No, of course not. Look. I did some research. About asexuality.” He looks everywhere but at Noah. “The website said that people who are asexual can enjoy sex without being physically attracted to the person they’re with. I’m not sure how I feel about that, to be honest.”
“Okay, and?”
“And I don’t want to just be a way for you to get off when we have sex. I want there to be more than that between us.”
Noah stares and the blood drains from his head. He sways a bit and braces a hand against the mattress. Taylor wants there to be more between them when they have sex. Noah’s not sure what he means. Of course there should be something between two people when they have sex, even if it’s just mutual lust. On the surface, the statement sounds perfectly reasonable. But Taylor means something else and Noah can’t quite grasp what it might be, although he feels like he should be insulted. His shoulders have gone tight now, and he takes a breath.
Taylor continues, “If sex is the same to you with or without me, then we shouldn’t have it. And I can live with that. I still want to be with you. Even if we don’t have sex.”
Noah blinks, as if clearing his vision like wipers on a rainy windshield is going to bring the issue into focus for him. “Do you think I’m faking this?”
“No.” Taylor shakes his head. “But maybe you don’t know either and having sex with someone who doesn’t want to have sex with me doesn’t sit well, you know. So…I’m okay with not. Having sex.”
Noah doesn’t get mad often, but he’s pissed right now. So much so, that he can’t really make much sense of what Taylor’s saying. Parsing a conversation about sex in general is hard enough. He takes a breath to calm his racing heart. He slides out of bed and yanks his underwear on, and Taylor’s eyes are wide now.
“You want me to prove that I want to have sex with you?”
Taylor blinks in surprise. “No, of course not. It’s not about that.”
“Because you think you’re just a means to an end?”
Frowning, Taylor gets to his feet too and pulls on his boxers. “No, that’s not what I meant.”
“I didn’t even know I could want sex, and you made me want it—wantyou—and now you’re telling me I’m not wanting you the right way?”
“I just don’t want you to feel forced to have sex with me.”
“You think I’d have sex with someone even if I didn’t want to? You have a pretty low opinion of my sense of self,” Noah says, confusion and sadness churning like a hurricane in his stomach, “of my sense of decency.”
“Th-that’s not what I mean. Noah—”
“I have news for you, Taylor—I’m not so stupid for you that I’d have sex just because you wanted to.” So many things are wrong with this conversation, and Noah can’t sort them all out right now. He’s confused and he’s mad and he’s sad. Everything is a big jumble in his mind, and until he can separate the threads, he can’t continue this conversation. “You need to go.”
“What? No. We need to talk this out.”
“I don’t want to talk it out right now, I can’t. So, please…get dressed and go home.” He leaves Taylor staring after him and takes refuge in Emma’s room. He leaves the door cracked, but leans against the wall behind it. He presses a hand to his chest, feeling the rapid-fire thumping of his heart beneath his ribcage.
The room is softly lit by the string of fairy lights he’d hung in the window. Emma’s back rises and falls steadily with her breathing. He matches her breaths in an effort to calm his racing heart.
Soft footsteps pad down the hall, and a moment later the front door opens and closes.
Noah can’t believe that just happened. If Taylor’s not going to talk to him about what he reads on the Internet and whether it applies to Noah, or not, or how, then perhaps a relationship isn’t such a good idea. They’ve been getting along so well. The sex was good—for all that he isn’t a fair judge of it. Taylor seems—well,seemed—to have found things satisfying. Until he hadn’t for some reason. The intimacy is—was—amazing. Or so he’d thought. Being close to Taylor and sharing daily life is comforting and fun. Being with Taylor is easy.
That’s what he gets, he supposes, for not having the conversation before they had any sort of sex. Dammit. His head drops back and thunks softly against the wall.
Noah stands there for a little longer letting Emma’s presence center and calm him before he leaves her room to make sure the door is locked and chained, even though Taylor won’t return tonight. Having the chain hooked up returns a sense of control, small though it is, to Noah.
