Julian
I wasn’t lying about fall consumerism being my weakness.
Two Bath & Body Works candles are lit in the living room and kitchen by the time Leti knocks on the front door, which is accented by a garland of faux autumn leaves.
Her mouth drops open at her first look of the place, which is a little unfair given that I haven’t finished decorating yet.
“Welcome to my humble abode.” I throw out my arms and flash a grin.
“How does your apartment look so much better than mine?” She shoots me an accusatory look.
“I know my brother. He’s not this clean.
” She halts in her tracks, sniffing the air.
It’s the most adorable she’s ever looked, but she’d cut me with a glare if I told her as much.
“Do you have a Bath and Body Works candle going in here?”
“Two, actually,” I tell her. “One in here, another in the kitchen.”
“Your salt and pepper shakers are pine cones.” She picks one up from the kitchen bar. “And you own place mats. Bella and I have lived in our apartment for an entire year, and we don’t even own place mats.”
“She has a child. Is that not concerning for your countertops?”
There’s that glare of hers.
I hold up my hands in surrender. “Kidding. Sort of.”
“Where are these snacks you promised me?”
I run into the kitchen, gathering various bags and containers from the pantry.
Once my arms are full, I meet her in the living room, where I set down two hard ciders, a box of pumpkin cheesecake cookies, the pumpkin brioche loaf she requested earlier, and a container of pumpkin butter.
I wasn’t kidding when I said I bought pumpkin everything.
“Cheers,” I say after popping the caps with a bottle opener and handing her a bottle. We clink the necks and sip. “So, what happened?”
“What do you mean?” She’s distracted, her head still whipping around as she takes in the apartment, until she turns back to me. “Oh. Right. Second-date jitters.”
“Did you forget already?” I laugh before biting into a cookie. It’s pretty big, so it dangles from my mouth as I start sorting through the assorted snacks on the coffee table. The sound of a shutter goes off, and when I glance up, her phone camera is pointed straight at me. “Mmph!”
She ignores me by belly-laughing as she looks down at her screen.
When I wave my hand at her, she turns the phone over to reveal the photo she snapped of me.
I’d just raised my head as she captured the picture, cookie dangling from my mouth, eyes round in surprise.
I make quick work of swallowing before telling her to delete it.
When she shakes her head, I make a grab for her phone, but she ducks from me in the nick of time.
“No way.” She inches away from me until she reaches the armrest on the other side of the couch. “This is going to make an excellent contact photo.”
“Devil woman.” My eyes narrow on her. “Send it to me so I can get a better look at it, at least.”
“Is that my new nickname?” Her lips curl in a wicked grin. Then her expression turns thoughtful. “Sunshine boy and devil woman. Sounds like a graphic novel I’d read.”
“Or a DC series that would get canceled after one season.”
“Come on. We’d at least make it to two.” She smirks. Then she taps her screen a few times and my phone lights up on the coffee table.
“I’ll get you back for this.” I point an accusing finger at her. “In the meantime, stop messing around. Why are you nervous about the second date?”
“The usual reasons, I guess.” She lets out a long sigh. “I’m too in my head.”
“Is there anything specific that’s bothering you?” I ask her. “You said the date went great, right? What’s making you nervous?”
She curls her legs up to her chest, resting her chin on her raised knees. She glances away from me, eyes trained on the floor, as she says, “It’s embarrassing.”
“I won’t laugh,” I assure her. “You have nothing to be ashamed of. And maybe I can help.”
She lets out a humorless laugh. “You won’t want to help me with this. Trust me.”
“Try me.” I let the full weight of my gaze fall on her. “I want to prove that you can trust me, Leti. What do I need to do to earn it?”
Her eyes widen in shock for a moment, until they soften and her mouth parts in surprise. “Julian, that’s not necessary,” she says after clearing her throat. “I already trust you.”
Relief deflates the tension in my shoulders at the same time my chest swells with pride. I have a feeling trust isn’t something Leti gives away freely. To know that I’m one of the few who has it? I’m humbled.
“Okay.” I say. “Then I promise to take it seriously.”
“Thanks.” She lets out a shaky breath. “The date was good. Better than I expected it to be, but to be fair my expectations were on the floor. Until the very end of the night, when I forgot about the most basic part of any really good, amazing date.”
“The kiss good night?”
“It completely slipped my mind,” she admits. “And I could say it’s because my last two dates went terribly, but that’s not the whole truth. It’s like it never even occurred to me that kissing Nathaniel was an option.”
I’m not proud to admit that I’m relieved to hear her say that.
How great could their first date really have been if she didn’t think about kissing Nathaniel at least once all night?
Though, maybe it’s too soon to feel relief.
If she views kissing as more of a sexual than romantic act, I’m not out of the woods.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve kissed someone,” she continues. “Four years, to be exact. Right before I met you the first time. Is that bad?”
“Of course not,” I tell her. “But can I ask if there’s a particular reason for that?”
“If I’m being honest, I think I spent most of that time psyching myself out of pursuing romance,” she says. “My one and only relationship was with a guy who spent our entire time together dodging the boyfriend label.”
“Sounds like he was an asshole.”
“He was in retrospect, but I didn’t see it at the time,” she says. “We had one really great kiss, but otherwise making out with him did nothing for me. Sometimes I think that first kiss was a fluke to begin with.”
“And that’s why you’re scared to kiss Nathaniel.” She nods as I put two and two together. “You’re not really sure if you’ve had a good kiss to begin with, so you don’t know how you’ll react to kissing Nathaniel for the first time.”
“Exactly.” She leans her head back against the couch. “Maybe romantic movies and TV shows have ruined me because I love the idea of kissing more than I actually like kissing. That can’t possibly be normal, can it?”
“There is no normal,” I tell her. “Especially when you’re already different. We can’t use the same things allos do to qualify whether something we experience is regular.”
“Too true,” she agrees. “In that case, what do you think?”
“So far, I don’t think my personal desires have ever steered me in the wrong direction—even if what I desire is something I’ve never experienced before,” I explain. “I do have a theory about that, though, and I have my cousin’s romance books to thank for that.”
“Angela?” she asks, her face lighting up in a way that I don’t like at all. “Speaking of loving the idea of kissing—”
“Please for the love of all that is holy, do not finish that sentence, woman.”
“Yeah, you’re right. Let’s not make this weird.” She shivers. “Okay, lay it on me. What’s your theory?”
“Kissing is so often a gray area for ace-specs because there are a variety of ways to kiss,” I tell her.
“It’s most commonly used as a form of foreplay.
Did you ever watch Friends?” When she nods, I go on.
“Do you remember that episode where the guys compare sex to the big event they pay a ticket for, but the women keep asking for the opening act?”
“Oh. Yes, that one’s a deep cut.”
“The foreplay can go on and on, but if you’re not sexually attracted to your partner, then all the foreplay in the world won’t matter. That’s kissing to seduce, which we’re pretty much immune to without something extra to help us get where an allo partner already is.”
“Kissing to seduce,” she repeats. “Yeah, that sounds like Steven. No wonder it didn’t work out between us. What are some other variants?”
“There’s kissing to greet, which can be both romantic and platonic.
Simple, chaste, used to say hello and goodbye,” I explain.
“There’s what I think you’re after, which is kissing to enchant.
You put everything you feel for the other person into it, and the result is something like Mia Thermopolis’s iconic leg pop. There’s kissing to explore—”
“Explore?”
“When you’re not quite sure how you feel for the other person or kissing in general, so you have to do some research.” Her expression turns skeptical. “It’s a micro-trope, and a pretty damn good one.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“When you’ve fantasized about kissing someone, and I can’t emphasize enough that I don’t need to know who you’re imagining in this scenario, what are the aspects you like about it? How does it make you feel?”
“I don’t know.” Her nose scrunches. “I guess I like feeling wanted by someone, you know? Not sexually, per se. Just wanted. And those little touches in addition to the kissing.”
“Which touches specifically?”
Instead of telling me, she places a hand against my neck.
Goose bumps erupt across my skin as her thumb brushes my jawline.
I shut my eyes, not trusting that they won’t give away everything I’m feeling.
If the eyes truly are the windows to the soul, I don’t need Leti poking around in there. Not any more than she already is.
“What are you doing?”
“Was that not okay?” Panic bleeds through her voice, but I place my hand over hers before she can pull her touch away. “This felt like the easiest way to show you what I meant, but now—”
“Don’t overthink this,” I say. “You surprised me. That’s all.”
My eyes are still shut, but I feel when her forehead rests against mine, our breaths mingling. Her other hand rests against my chest where my heart is racing. Forget the eyes, it’s the organ beating a mile a minute beneath my rib cage that’s the real dead giveaway here.
“When was the last time you kissed someone?”
My eyes pop open, and her face fills my vision.
God, she’s so pretty. A pink blush has reddened her cheeks—they’re nearly the same color as her lips.
There couldn’t possibly be a worse time for her to ask me that question.
Not when she’s so close, her breath is warming my skin.
A few inches closer, and our lips would brush.
“Do we have to talk about this right now?”
“When else would we?”
“When you’re not trying to kill me.” My hand settles against the back of her neck before gathering up her hair in my fingers.
After the gentlest of tugs, she’s gasping against my mouth.
For all the times I’ve thought, dreamed, fantasized about it, I’ve never wanted to kiss Leticia more than right now.
It would be so easy too. Just an inch or two of space to invade before my lips seal over hers, and she’s mine.
I promised myself I wouldn’t let another chance go by without kissing her, didn’t I?
Instead, her question has me hovering. “How’s that feel? ”
“Good.” Her voice is breathy. “Really good.”
“Come here.” I pull her closer until she’s straddling my lap.
Uncertainty shines in her eyes until I sit back against the couch, making room for her.
Her knees cradle my waist, hands smoothing up my chest as she pushes herself inexplicably closer to me.
“Still want to know the last time I kissed someone?”
She nods, a curtain of her dark hair tickling my arm.
“It was almost two years ago, before I introduced him to my family. That…was a colossal mistake.”
“What happened?”
“My dad.” My tone turns dry. “He made it clear how welcome I was in his house after that, which is to say not at all.”
“Julian.” Her thumb brushes my cheek in soothing strokes as she stares down at me, her eyes creased in concern. “I’m so sorry.”
“You don’t have to be sorry,” I tell her.
“After I came out to my parents, he was content to ignore the part of me that liked men until I started dating one. That was the last straw for him, but my mom took the news surprisingly well. Now she has the rainbow flag emoji in her Facebook bio. I’ve tried telling her to at least add an “ally” next to it or people will think she’s queer, but she’s awfully stubborn in her support of me. ”
“I’m glad.” Her fingers sink into my hair, and I could sigh from how good it feels. “You deserve her unconditional support. I’m happy you have it.”
“Me too,” I tell her. “But the relationship didn’t survive. In hindsight, I should’ve known what I was walking him into, but I didn’t know it’d turn out to be such a mess. I figured if my mom was okay with it, my dad and the rest of my family eventually would be too.”
“But I’m guessing that wasn’t the case?”
“God no.” I shake my head. “Ryan couldn’t handle it, not that I blame him. Watching my dad punch my uncle in the face for defending me would’ve been too much for me too.”
“Whoa.” Her brows crease with concern. “Your dad really did that?”
“Well, he tried,” I say. “One thing about Angela’s dad, he’s quick to shut that kind of shit down before it gets too far. He’s scarier than my dad that way.”
“You haven’t dated anyone since?”
“No.” I heave a long sigh that deflates my chest. “Well, aside from you.”
A low moan leaves her lips as my hands migrate down her back and settle on her waist. I scan her face for any sign of discomfort and find the opposite. Her eyes darken as she shifts closer, until we’re chest to chest.
“What about this?” I ask, rubbing her hips. “Still feel good, or are we heading down untoward territory?”
“Both, maybe?” Her face twists as two hands grasp fistfuls of my shirt. “But definitely still good, which is confusing.”
She turns her face away from me, and I start to grow concerned. Maybe I took things further than I should have with her. “Is something wrong? Do you want me to stop?”
“I…I don’t know.” She stumbles away from me suddenly, and when I rise after her, she holds up a hand. “Give me a second.”
“Okay.” My heart is racing for a totally different reason now. “Leticia, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” I trail off, cursing beneath my breath.
I blew it. Again. As crushing a realization as that is, it’s one I have to deal with.
I’m expecting her to run out the door, or for the next words out of her mouth to be an admonishment for taking advantage of her.
Instead, I’m caught off guard entirely when she turns around, looks me in the eye, and says—
“Julian, I want you to kiss me.”