Page 48 of Love Lessons: Expanded Edition

Chapter 8

Dustin

Dustin rummaged around in Lena’s fridge and pulled out a gorgeous pink-striped heirloom tomato, a green pepper, and a bag of salad greens. The enchiladas had just finished cooking, and they could set while he made the salad.

He could see Lena sitting at the dining room table, her books, papers, and laptop spread out everywhere. She had one knee tucked beneath her chin and occasionally kicked the other one against the chair rung. He didn’t know how she could be comfortable that way, but it was adorable as fuck.

He was pretty sure that she’d forgotten that she was wearing that sinfully sheer little outfit as she concentrated on her work. She chewed on the end of her pen, which was already covered in tiny indentations, and then scribbled something on another page.

He couldn’t even begin to explain why he found this more compelling than all of her intentionally seductive flirtation, but there was something about her innocence and unselfconsciousness right now that drew him in.

If he could take just one picture of Lena to keep after this exploration together, this might be it.

Tearing himself away from the captivating sight, he found a cutting board and knife and kept his hands busy while he gave his mind a chance to process. This afternoon had been a revelation, in more ways than one.

First, he’d gotten a few things about his own desires cleared up. Taking Landon to bed last month had been sexy as fuck. But getting Lena to nap on his chest and seeing that little pout before she’d meekly gone off to do her lesson plans was what he really wanted to replay in his mind. It was confusing, but he’d felt some sort of connection there. Like something settling into place.

So whatever that kink was where he got to take care of someone and make them relax and get their work done was definitely his thing. It was what had been missing from all of his past relationships, and probably why all of his exes said he was too controlling. He was pretty certain that it was a real kink, too.

He’d read something about it, but he’d mostly been looking at the obvious stuff like impact play. This, though… this need to coddle and discipline, to praise and scold, felt like a wave welling up inside him. Like something that he’d been pushing back, until the dam was ready to burst.

All because Lena was sitting at the table with her laptop because he’d told her to go. He peeked out and she was sucking on her pen cap now. Fuck did that give him all sorts of ideas. Something about that combination of innocence and sexuality. It felt dirty.

And that only made it hotter.

He just hoped that she was into it too. That was where he worried.

She’d said that this was supposed to be a chance for him to experiment. A lesson, even though he’d turned it around on her earlier. Something temporary and fleeting.

But, he thought, she did need a lesson. A lot of them. Until she broke apart and he could put her back together again without all of the masks and fears and hidden desires. But was he reading her right? And could he be the one to give that to her?

He was learning to tell when she was getting overwhelmed or nervous, or even when she thought she wouldn’t like something. The problem was, he didn’t usually know what exactly had caused the feelings. Or if it was an immediate reaction to something he’d done or her own thinking about the past or the future.

He was beginning to get a fuller picture of her, though. She had been so confident the last time he came over that he had almost believed that there wasn’t a hint of confusion peeking through the cracks. She was clearly motivated, capable, and strong in a lot of ways. It seemed like when she said she wanted something, she went out and got it.

The thing was, he was pretty convinced, or at least pathetically hoping, that she didn’t know what she wanted. She had no idea how to relax, and as much as she loved people, it seemed like she didn’t have any close friends. She could flirt easily with him when he complimented her on her looks, but when he praised her commitment to her work she got flustered.

He also wondered if she realized how much she’d revealed when she was talking about her family. She’d talked about her childhood with an overly-relaxed attitude, like it didn’t matter that she’d helped to raise her younger siblings without any apparent notice from her parents.

She mentioned that she wasn’t as rich and successful as some of her siblings like her inferiority was an accepted fact. It was like she couldn’t imagine why anyone would see her work as being valuable.

She was also the only Deaf person in her family, the result of a babyhood fever that, she’d shrugged as she explained, her parents hadn’t thought would be a problem because her other siblings had all gotten the same flu and been fine. They’d apparently felt terrible when they eventually took her to the hospital, and she insisted that they couldn’t have known.

It was true, but also sad. Dustin felt strongly that being Deaf was an amazing and beautiful way of moving through the world, but to end up in the hospital because your parents didn’t bother to check your temperature and give you some Tylenol? She could have gotten brain damage or even died.

The story about her coming out, both as queer and as genderfluid, was about the same. She’d announced it. They’d acknowledged it. “They didn’t not accept me” was the summary. He wondered if she might have even preferred a little resistance from them, just for the connection.

Overall, her parents seemed to be kind and affectionate, but busy. She had a younger brother with autism and an older sister who’d struggled with drug addiction. He got the sense that she’d spent her whole childhood never getting quite enough attention.

Not in a neglectful way. He believed that her parents cared about her. But perhaps she just needed a little more attention than they had available, with everything else going on. It made him wonder how much of her overachieving now was about true passion for her work, because she was definitely passionate, and how much of it was about getting recognition.

It was the same thing when she’d talked about teaching. Her principal didn’t seem to appreciate her work or care about the fate of her students. But instead of getting angry, she’d just asked what she’d need to do to get things changed and gone about working on it.

She was fiery and focused and dedicated, but when did she get a chance to relax?

More importantly, he thought as he made up the two plates, how could he give her that now?

He set both plates on the table opposite her, since her entire side was covered with her books and papers. Then he waved his hand downward in front of her to get her attention. Dinner’s ready.