Page 29 of Christmas Crisis
“Oh my god! Is that it? You don’t want to get too close because you’re sick?”
“No, no. Nothing like that.” Patting her shin, I managed the semblance of a smile. After giving me a once-over as though to confirm there were no visible terminal illnesses, she relaxed back against the cushions.
“Then what?”
I rubbed her ankles absently, grounding myself. “Maybe I should start at the end, when we were at the restaurant earlier.” She bobbed her head. “The reason I’m sometimes a bit touch-feely with you—sorry, I can’t think of a better way to phrase it—and the reason I liked it when that woman thought I was your boyfriend, is because those aren’t things I’ve really gotten to experience.”
Her jaw flexed. “Leo, I know we haven’t talked about this stuff much. Which is kind of weird when you think about it since we talk about everything else. But are you trying to say that you haven’t had a lot of girlfriends?… Or boyfriends?”
“It would be girlfriends, if it were anything. At least I’m pretty sure.” I dragged a hand over my face. “Being with you makes me feel like everyone else, like I get to have the same things most people take for granted.”
She worried her lower lip. “I’m trying to understand here. I really am. And maybe I’m thick, but I’m not following. It’s okay if you're not into me and want to just be friends. I meant it when I said I was fine with that.”
“It’s not that Iwantto be just friends with you, Panda. It’s that Ican’tbe anything other than just friends with you.”
“Because of Marley and James?”
“No.”
“Okay.” Her expression pinched. “Are you in danger or something? About to enter witness protection?”
I released a gruff laugh. “Nothing that interesting.”
“Then you’re gonna need to help me out here. I’m running out of ideas and—”
“I’m ace—”
“Explana—… Wait. What?”
“Ace. Asexual.” My slow-motion circles over her ankles continued. “I don’t experience sexual attraction to women. To anyone.”
She flinched but recovered quickly, placing her hand over mine to still my movements. “I know what asexual is.”
“So you understand?”
Her head nodded subtly, and for a minute she appeared lost in her own thoughts.
Finally, she spoke. “Now that you say it, it makes perfect sense. Explains so much…” Bemusedly, she added, “I’m a little annoyed with myself that the thought hadn’t occurred to me.”
I chuffed. “Honestly, I do my best not to advertise it. But what I realized at the restaurant, and what I knew almost from the first moment we met, is that I feel different with you than I do with anyone else. It’s not attraction per se, not in the way most people think of it, but from the beginning, I’ve experienced a level of comfort with you, an awareness that I haven’t felt with anyone in a long time. When the woman at the restaurant called me your boyfriend, I liked leaning into that, even for a few moments.” I inhaled another deep breath, and my chest tightened with purpose. “I couldn’t go another day without telling you I’ve been letting myself have these moments, that I’m letting myself touch you and speak to you and be more intimate with you than I’ve been with anyone since my early twenties, when I figured out my asexuality. It felt wrong not to say it out loud, almost like I was using you. And now that you know, youcan tell me to fuck off if you don’t want me holding your hand or hugging you or whatever.”
The fan kicked on, the rumbling noise punctuating my words. Miranda stared at me before her eyes drifted downward to land on the place where my palm held her ankle.
“It’s hard to imagine a scenario where I’d ever tell you to fuck off,” she said quietly. “And now that you’ve explained, I think I get it. Really, it’s kind of an ego boost to know that I’m the person you’recomfortablewith… But can I be equally honest with you?”
“Of course.”
“If you weren’t ace and had been interested in pursuing something with me, I would have been open to it. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying that because I think I can change your mind or anything. I’m clear on what asexual means, and obviously, I respect your identity. But I was feeling the same way you were, like it was past time to be honest about where my head was at. It felt gross being attracted to you without telling you, especially when you’ve been so clear that you only want to be friends.”
I pulled her closer until her head rested against my chest. “We are a matched set, aren’t we?”
She burrowed into me. “Where does this leave us?”
“You really don’t care that I’m ace?”
“Why would I? If anything, I’m grateful for the context,” she murmured. “As long as you don’t care that when I see you without your shirt, it sometimes makes me want to lick you.”
God, she really was my favorite person. “I take that as a compliment. Please ogle me all you want.”
