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“We support you!” he said quickly. “I mean, as a band, we wouldn’t have a problem with it. We just need to know, because you see how word gets out about shit.”
I was suddenly mortified. “You think I’m so unattractive I’m trying to be a man?”
“No!” He took a deep breath and seemed to be counting to ten or something. “God, I’m fucking this up big-time. All I meant—”
“I get it,” I said, not letting him finish as I slowly stood up, shame and frustration and myriad other emotions shooting through me. “I do make myself somewhat androgynous. And yes, it’s done by design because of the very misogynistic nature of this industry. But rest assured, I’m all woman.” I reached for my backpack. “I think you need to take me home now.”
God, this sucked.
I’d made myself as asexual as possible since I’d left my last band because I’d wanted to start fresh. I’d wanted—no, I’d needed—to reinvent myself so I could separate the new me from the one I was trying to forget.
This hurt, though.
We’d been having a moment, and then I had to find out he wasn’t sure whether or not I was a man.
That wasn’t what you wanted to hear from a guy you were attracted to.
“Devyn. Please. Let me explain.” He got up and moved closer to me, so our faces were barely millimeters apart, even though I averted my eyes.
“It’s fine,” I said, my voice tight. “I just need to get home.”
“I didn’t ask because you’re unattractive,” he said softly, reaching out to gently take my chin between two of his fingers, forcing me to look at him. “I asked because you’re so damn gorgeous you’ve practically got me second-guessing my sexuality.”
“Wh-what?” I struggled to wrap my head around what he’d just said.
“You’re beautiful,” he reiterated, reaching out to run his knuckles across my cheek. “Sexy and talented and so fucking hot when you play, sometimes I can barely concentrate.”
What is happening?!
No matter how much I wanted him, I couldn’t let this go any further.
It was just too risky.
I’d learned my lesson last time I got involved with someone in my band.
“We can’t—”
“I know,” he interrupted in a gruff voice laced with frustration. “It would be a very bad idea for us to do this. It’s taking all my self-control not to kiss you, but you need to know I didn’t ask that question because you aren’t attractive—I asked because you’re driving me crazy. And it would make things so much easier if you’d said you’re trans. Or in the process of it. Something. Anything to make me stop wanting to touch you. Though I’m not sure even that would’ve made me want you less.”
Boy, did I understand that.
Why couldn’t he have a damn girlfriend?
But he didn’t, and I couldn’t let this happen.
I’d allow myself one tiny taste, though.
Just one.
I leaned up and very gently pressed my lips to his.
Soft and tender, almost chaste, letting our lips linger for a few seconds.
And it was heaven.
His lips were soft and pliable.
I’d known they would be.
