Page 76 of Check You Out

“Let me open the door,” she hisses into my mouth. Her chest heaves as she gazes up at me with heavy-lidded eyes.

I release her wrists from my grip.

She turns in my arms, and I grasp fistfuls of her glorious locks, letting the silky strands glide through my fingers. Wrapping my arms around her waist, I bury my face into the waves, breathing in the heady scent of lavender and vanilla.

“Can I take a shower and use your shampoo?” I mutter into the strands. “I want to smell like you.” I pull back from her, a chill running through my veins. “Wait, was that creepy?”

She tosses her head back, laughing, and flings the door open, pulling me in behind her. “Hmmm, I get what you’re trying to say.”

“Me no speak goodly,” I tease and close the door behind me. “Especially when you’re around.”

“You probably tell that to all the girls,” she says with a glint in her eye.

I shake my head. “No, uh, I haven’t done this in a long time.” My hand finds hers and our fingers intertwine. I caress her knuckles. “Is that ok? I mean, I’ve had sex before,” I add on quickly. “I’m not a virgin. It’s just been a while. At least a couple of years.” I hesitate. “Also, um, I’m bi. I probably should’ve mentioned it before.”

Closing my eyes, I expect that maybe she’ll be disappointed that I’m not the sex god of her dreams. I’m confident she won’t judge me for my sexuality, given that she has a Pride flag hanging outside the bookstore.

“That’s fine. So, it’s been 2 years? Any STDs?” Charlotte asks, and then adds quickly, “Also, thank you for telling me. I don’t care. I mean, no, that’s not right, I-I-I do care, but mostly because I care about you. But it doesn’t matter to me who or when you’ve had sex with someone. As long as you’re not currently doing it with anyone else. I mean, I would hope not, since you’re my boyfriend.”

My eyes open and I meet her searching gaze. “There’s no one else. There’s only you. I can’t think of anyone, but you.” I claim her mouth with mine, feeling warmth spread throughout my body.

After a few seconds, I tip my head back, laughing. “Sometimes I don’t even know if this is real. It blows my mind that someone as perfect as you would be into a guy like me.”

“Why?” She scoffs. “You’re a wonderful person, Aidan. It makes me sad that you don’t see it. Maybe I can try to convince you?”

I nod and smile. “I’d like that.” My erection presses against the zipper of my pants.

She raises an eyebrow. “I’m not perfect either, you know. I deal with constant impostor syndrome and agonizing self-doubt. I feel like I’m constantly behind and—”

I step forward, cupping her face in my hands and cutting off her with a kiss. She tips her head back and lets out a little sigh.

“I’ll stop beating myself up if you do?” she murmurs when we pull back. Our foreheads rest against each other.

“Deal.”

“So do you have any STDs?” she says between kisses. Her thumb runs over my knuckles, sending shivers down my spine. She continues before I can reply, “I don’t. Also, I’m on the pill. But I also haven’t had any sex in,” she chews on her lower lip, “like five or six years. Maybe pre-Covid?”

“I don’t have any STDs. I got myself checked after my last partner.”

She jerks a thumb toward her bedroom. “So, we’re covered in the preventing a child part.”

My mouth goes dry, and I let go of her hand. “I, uh, I got a vasectomy. I’m sorry this is turning into a confessional.” I run a hand through my hair and grit my teeth. “What a great topic for foreplay.”

Charlotte throws her arms around my neck and smothers me in a deep, shattering kiss. It takes me by surprise, and I sway on my feet for a second before I bring my arms up to her back.

“I don’t want kids either,” she finally says against my mouth. She must notice the confusion on my face. She fingers the collar of my shirt. “I think it’s hot that you’re so responsible.”

Charlotte Ferguson thinks I’m hot.

Even though I’ve come out of the closet filled with my self-perceived skeletons, she still thinks I’m hot.

“Really?” I squeak out, reaching up to push my glasses up the bridge my nose.

Letting out a loose chuckle, Charlotte replies, “Yeah.”

A toothy grin spreads across my face. “Cool.”

She tosses her head back and lets out a half moan, half laugh. She twists out of my grip and dances through the living room and kitchen in the direction of her bedroom. Her hair dances behind her as she leans against the doorframe and says, “You coming?”