Chapter 23
Chapter twenty-three
Izzy
“Nope,” I say, my feet suddenly stuck in place as Becca and I walk home from the office. I’ve spent the twenty-minute walk psyching myself up for day one of spice coaching, but I just can’t seem to wrap my head around it.
“Yes,” Becca says as she grabs my arm and continues to pull me toward the house. “What have you got to lose?”
“Nothing,” I say, repeating what she wants to hear. Except… “Or at least nothing but my dignity. Which clearly isn’t worth much to you.”
She continues pulling, so I give in, following her so slowly I think I might be impacting the space-time continuum.
“It’s Jaxon, Iz. If there’s anyone you should be able to relax around, it’s him. You two were practically joined at the hip for over a decade. I know things are different now, but really, all that’s changed is that you don't care what he thinks anymore.”
“What if it goes poorly?” I ask as we turn the corner and see Jaxon’s rental car sitting in our driveway.
“What does that even look like?” Becca asks. “I mean it, walk me through the literal worst-case scenario. I know you’ve thought about it. Tell it to me.”
“I lie there like a limp fish and then he does something that makes me giggle, at which point, I kick him in the face, breaking his teeth and his nose, maybe inflicting some damage to his windpipe, and he can never play music again because of me. He goes on daytime television to tell his story, accidentally drops my name, and I have to move to Alaska to avoid the public shame and fallout,” I say.
“Oh! And while he’s writhing around in pain, a candle gets knocked over, and we burn down the entire street. ”
Becca smiles. “I knew you’d have something good concocted. That said, we both know that isn’t going to happen, right?”
“Do you know the last time we checked our fire extinguisher, Becca?” I ask as we near the house. Jaxon must’ve let himself in this time because he wasn’t in his car when we walked by, and he’s not on the porch.
“I replaced them before Christmas with those fire blankets and the idiot-proof fire-sprayer things.”
“At least our house is safe,” I say on a dramatic sigh as we enter the house. “Too bad for Jaxon’s career though.”
“What’s happening to my career?” Jaxon asks, swiveling around on the island stool to look at us as we walk in.
Becca nods at me. “She’s spiraled about your afternoon activities and is pretty sure it’s going to end in her breaking your face and taking down your vocal cords with it or something along those lines.”
“Ahh, yes, the most likely scenario,” Jaxon jokes back.
I glare at my best friend and my ex-best friend. “Stop that.”
“Stop what?” Becca asks innocently as she shuffles around the kitchen, grabbing a cup of water and a chocolate chip granola bar—the good kind with the fudge coating.
I wave my hands. “This…friend thing.”
“I thought we were supposed to be pretending you two were friendly. Wink, wink, nudge, nudge.” She does the actions while saying that last part, and her ridiculousness pulls a small laugh from me.
“You can pretend when there are other people around. Right now, I need you to pretend you have somewhere else to be and leave before I die of embarrassment.”
“Fine,” Becca says around a mouthful of oats and chocolate. “I guess I’m going to the gym and then to dinner with my parents. I will be back no earlier than seven thirty.”
She pops her head out the door to her room. “I also can’t work out for longer than an hour and will be stretching dinner with my parents to get to seven thirty, so let’s just call it what it is—I will be back at seven thirty.”
“Oh, I’m sure we don’t need two—” I start, before being cut off by Jaxon.
“That’ll be great,” he says with a smile. “Thanks again for letting us kick you out, Becca. Did you get those headphones I sent? I was assured they’re top of the line and should block out everything.”
I was surprised when I got a text from Jaxon telling me he was sending Becca headphones so I could feel more comfortable knowing my roommate couldn’t hear us. It was unexpectedly…considerate.
“They do seem really great,” Becca says, leaning on the doorframe like she’s settling in for a longer conversation about various models of headphones.
“Nope,” I say, shooing her into her room.
“You might not be able to hear anything, but I would know you were here. It’s bad enough knowing Jaxon has to be here for this.
Maybe next week—” I shake my head. “Maybe next month, you can be around. Until then, I’d work on filling your Thursday afternoons. ”
“Go to his house,” Becca says from inside her room.
Jaxon looks pained at the idea. “No. Definitely no. We could hit up a hotel?”
“A HOTEL?!” Becca and I both yell.
“Are you kidding me? Do you know how quickly it would get around that we checked into the hotel?”
Jaxon raises his hands in submission. “I obviously didn’t think it through. Definitely not a hotel.”
Becca finally leaves, pulling the door to the house shut behind her. I race over to it, my bare feet slapping on the wood floors. I lock it, twisting it to double-check it really is inaccessible.
At the look on Jaxon’s face, I reply, “People just walk in here all the time. Usually either my mom or my sisters. Do you want them to hear anything that’s about to happen?”
“It’d help us sell the dating part of our deal.”
“I want them to think we’re dating, not that I’m jumping into bed with you.”
“Well, speaking of bed…should we talk about my plans for the afternoon?” Jaxon asks.
“You have plans?”
“Of course I have plans. I finished almost an entire song after we hung out on Tuesday. I can’t let you ditch me if I don’t hold up my end of the deal. So, I did my research.”
“Oh God,” I say, rubbing my fingertips in circles on the sides of my head.
Jaxon looks at me. “Have you not researched why a woman might not be able to orgasm?”
“Of course I have,” I say defensively. Okay, maybe not in the last ten years or so since I’ve accepted that I’m broken, but I did do some solid internet searching back then.
“Great. Then I’m sure you know it’s actually surprisingly common for women not to orgasm—”
“Oh really?” I cut in. “And how many women have you slept with who didn’t?”
“Well…” He scratches the back of his neck. “I mean, it wouldn’t be a big deal if they hadn’t.”
“Of course it would. You’d probably think something was wrong with her.
Or”—I hold up my hand when he tries to cut me off—“you’d blame yourself and keep trying until you found something that worked, likely long past the point when you were both having fun.
It’s not like I’ve been dating complete twat waffles this whole time.
They tried. They researched. I researched.
Finally, it was easy for both of us if we just stopped trying to get me there. ”
Jaxon’s mouth twitches to the side. “And…have you asked your doctor about it?”
“Yes,” I say, pulling my hand through my hair.
“Everything is good to go physically. My body responds how it’s supposed to.
I just…the best way I can describe it is that my body is unable to jump off the cliff.
The climb is there. Everything that’s supposed to happen, happens…
until it’s time to fall off the cliff. Then it just.. .stops.”
“Okay, well, I have a plan,” Jaxon says as he grabs my hand and pulls me into my room, grabbing a shopping bag off the floor by his feet.
The warmth of his large palm feels surprisingly nice against mine, a barrier against this awkward situation.
“What’s in the bag?” I ask as I sit on the end of my bed. “Extra-small condoms?” I laugh at my own joke, and Jaxon cracks a smile too.
“There she is,” he says. “That sounds like the you I’ve been talking to lately.”
I’m not sure what he means. I definitely haven’t been cracking penis jokes.
“What?”
“Don’t worry about it,” he says, sitting next to me. “Definitely no condoms needed today. I know you. You need to be comfortable around a guy before you sleep with him. I’m hoping between the coffee chats, the golf, and the couple of dinners, you’re at least comfortable around me in general.”
I start to cut in, but he cuts me off. “I know that, given your personality, you’d prefer six to nine months before we start any of this, but unfortunately, we don’t have that kind of time. So we have to jump in. Are you good with that?”
No. Yes. I mean, shit. I am the one who instigated this. I wanted to do it. I need to see it through. It’s just a lot harder to wrap my mind around now that we’re here.
“Say it, Iz.”
“Yes.” And I mean it. I decided to do this, and I can’t let myself back out. Whatever he has planned. I’m in. Even if I’m currently so uncomfortable that I’d rather have to explain to the men’s coffee group what soaking is than be here.
He smiles. “Great. So today, we’re going to get you comfortable getting turned on around me.”
I want to tell him he’s an idiot, but maybe he’s right. Maybe it’s best to just jump right in.
Instead, I nod. “Okay…what does that look like? Porn?”
He cocks his head to the side as if considering my suggestion.
“Not a bad idea, but no.” He digs into his bag, pulling out two vibrators, one that looks like a pink plastic penis, and one that’s more of a massager—clearly not meant for penetration.
“I’m going to watch you come on a toy. Maybe, depending on how it goes, I’ll help out. Maybe I won’t.”
I shake my head, my eyes still glued to the vibrators in front of me.
The maybe one time I’ve come, I’ve needed clit stimulation, and, if we’re being honest, the dildo intimidates me a bit.
Though this feels like an aggressive first step.
Maybe listening to a spicy book together would’ve been an actual first step.
What does jumping in look like if this is easing me in?
And the fact that he may or may not touch me?
“I need to know ahead of time if you’re going to touch me,” I say. “Otherwise I’ll be thinking about it the whole time.”