Hurt.
“Iris,” he says, more raspy from arousal. “I’m about to blow in my jeans, and you’re not even— ” His eyes flick down to my crotch, still pressed against his leg, then back up. “Am I not doing it for you? Cause I thought that was pretty—”
I don’t hear what else he says becauseoh my god.
Is this actually happening to me right now?
Forget being embarrassed about what happened on Halloween. This is the most embarrassing moment of my entire life.
“Mine doesn’t…” I try to say, but I can’t talk about this. That one topic is off limits even to me, and he just asked me about it while I’m sitting between his legs and my shirt is on the floor.
For better or worse, He understands what I’m trying to say.
His frown deepens. “Why not? How do you, y’know, come?” Any remaining arousal drains out of me as the questions continue. I get down from my desk and grab my shirt from the floor.
“Hey, what’re you doing?” He complains when I tug my shirt over my head. “I’m not done.”
“Well, I am,” I snap, sharper than he deserves. This isn’t on him.I’mthe one who let it go way too far.
“Iris, what did I do? Why’re you mad?”
“You didn’t do anything. Just drop it.”
“I can’t drop it if I don’t even know what the hell happened.”
I wrap my arms around myself, wishing I could go back and not let him see me. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“I’m trying to,” he shoots back, defensive. “Dammit, Iris, I know I don’t understand all this, and I keep saying the wrongthing, but if I hurt your feelings, you gotta tell me what I did. Don’t just shoot me down.”
I stare at my hands, so I don’t have to look at him, twisting my rings. The words feel wrong, being spoken out loud, but I want to trust him, I want him to understand, to accept me. “I don’t get…you know.Touchingitmakes me uncomfortable. I don’t want to acknowledge that part of me. And I don’t want you to either.”
His mouth opens to respond, but I interrupt, meeting his eyes. “I mean it, Nate,” I say, setting my boundaries. “Don’t call it anything. Don’t even think it. I can’t handle it. Just… don’t.”
He shuts his mouth, recalibrating, the frustration on his face disappearing. “You don’t want me to touch you there?” he asks, taking my fidgeting hands and holding them between his.
I stare down at our joined hands. “I don’t know.”
“We don’t gotta ever do anything you don’t wanna do. All I want is to be with you, in whatever way you’re comfortable. You just gotta tell me these things, Darlin’. We gotta have communication. That’s what I read.”
The knot in my chest loosens at his words, because he’s trying, and I appreciate that more than he’ll ever know. “Has anybody ever told you that you’re unbelievably cheesy?”
“Only cause I love you so much.”
I groan, taking my hands back and walking to the middle of my classroom. And that’s when I finally remember the state my room is in.
I turn back to him with my most evil grin. “Well, lover boy, since you’re supposed to be earning my forgiveness, I think I know where you can start.”
His eyes follow mine, widening when they, maybe for thefirst time since he’s been in here, take in the mess.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
By the time we finish, things have almost gone back to normal between us, like the last few weeks never even happened.
But I know they did, and we have a ways to go before things are perfect, but for the first time since we started seeing each other, it feels real.
And maybe that matters more than perfect.
Nate is walking me to my car when my phone vibrates in my pocket. “Who’s got you smiling like that?” He asks, peering down at me.
