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“But what?”
“But I couldn’t do it.”
“Do what?”
“Commit to a relationship.”
I frown. “But you committed to a friends-with-benefits situation with no problem.”
“I did.” He takes my hand in his. “Because it killed two birds with one stone.”
“What birds?”
“I got to spend time with you without weirding out.”
“Weirding out?” I repeat.
He shrugs, embarrassed. “I’m totally fucking weird. Don’t worry, I am well aware.”
I fight to hide my smile. You got that right.
“What does your psychologist say about this?”
“Aaron thinks that my mind is trying to protect me, so it blocks my emotions.”
I frown, not understanding. “Why?”
“I don’t understand it myself.”
“So you don’t have any emotions?”
“No, I do.” He shrugs. “With you, I do.”
“And what are those emotions?” I ask.
He frowns as if perplexed. “Love is a strong word.”
“It is.”
“So . . .” He pauses as if choosing his words very carefully. “You say you loved me.”
“Uh-huh.”
“What does that feel like?”
“What?”
“If you love someone, what does it feel like?” He continues. “I mean, when do you get that light bulb I’m-in-love moment?”
I smile at his immaturity on this subject. “It’s not one light bulb moment. It’s a million little things.”
His eyes hold mine as he listens.
“It’s looking forward to seeing someone. It’s thinking about them all day. It’s missing them when they go home, even though you’ve just seen them all night. It’s laughing and conversations and sexual attraction, and most of all it’s a sense of belonging to that person.”
“Belonging to that person?”
“Like you don’t want to sleep with anyone else, you only want one person, and nobody else will do. The thought of giving your body to someone else is sickening.”
