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“Well, if you are shitting in the bed, you should be sorry.” Nick widens his eyes comically.
“I didn’t mean—” I flail in mortified frustration. It’s too early to be talking.
Nick chuckles as he reaches up to put a gently shushing finger to my lips. “I know what you meant, babe. You told me you guys have sleepovers, it’s fine. I’m not so insecure I can’t handle sharing your affections as long as we’re on the same page about what that means.”
“We are. Saint is my platonic life partner, but he’s not my boyfriend.” I don’t expect him to know what that phrase means and I’m not looking forward to the slew of questions, but it’s broken more than one potential relationship before. Better to lay all my cards on the table.
“Good, because the boyfriend role is taken, at least until Christmas.” Nick gives me a flirty wink, giving no sign my admission about Saint’s role in my life phases him in the least. Is it possible that he’s really this laid-back about it? He’s still smiling.
Or maybe it’s because this is temporary. That reminder shouldn’t disappoint me as much as it does. “No need to explain a thing,” he adds, watching my face. “Go pee. I’ll still be here when you get back.”
“Excellent, because I’m not done with you yet.” I lean across the mattress to steal a quick kiss, determined to enjoy this easiness between us for as long as it lasts. Then I bolt for the washroom to take care of my morning ablutions.
I might take a few extra moments to brush my teeth if there’s going to be kissing in my future. Not that I mind Nick’s morning breath, but since I’m in there, might as well. It’s been a long time since I wanted to impress someone this much.
When I return at a more sedate pace, Nick lifts the blankets in invitation and I slip in next to him. Nick rolls halfway on top of me and I tense at first, expecting him to push for more even though we talked about this. Disappointment weighs heavier on my chest than he does. I could cry from the frustration if it wouldn’t be humiliating to waste my tears on something that was never meant to last.
It’s just that I didn’t expect Nick to push for sex. Not after he took my coming out so well last night. No overused jokes about invertebrate reproduction or clueless comments. Just genuine questions that were relevant to our context. Plus, he gave me that soul-searching look of such deep understanding that I have to wonder if he’s known other ace folks without learning the label.
It is probably too much to hope he might recognize himself somewhere on the ace spectrum. Nick had so many questions over our late night coffee. I let myself cling to that slim hope. But if he thinks I’m suddenly going to want sex just because I invited him to share my bed, I guess he didn’t truly understand. Instead of pressing the issue, Nick notices my response and eases back.
“Is this okay? I want to kiss you, but if you aren’t into it, we can stick to cuddling?”
Or maybe he does get it. Maybe he’s even more perfect than I thought.
“Kissing is good.” I relax under him, letting myself enjoy the contact. Letting myself trust him not to trample over my boundaries. It shouldn’t be so hard to believe a guy could respect who I am and be this into me. It still takes all my faith to lose myself in the moment with Nick.
Nick kisses me, then lifts onto one elbow to gaze adoringly down at me, and I find myself squirming at his intensity.
“You give the best kisses.” Nick buries his fingers in my beard as he presses our lips together again in another lazy glide of our tongues.
He coaxes me into opening up to him and we lay there kissing in my bed until my lips are tingly from the scrape of his stubble. He eventually excuses himself to go open his mom’s booth at the market for the second-to-last day of sales.
I get dressed to go with him and help since I know it’s going to be a busy day. We share a companionable breakfast standing in my kitchen before we swing by Tina’s on the way to the market for Nick to get ready. The market closes around the same time Eliza’s party starts tonight, but my sister won’t mind us being fashionably late. Especially since I’m bringing a date for her to gossip about. That was the entire purpose of this whole ruse, but at this point, I’m half-tempted to skip the party to keep Nick all to myself.
I wait in the car while Nick runs in to check on his mom and get dressed. I’m only putting off the inevitable inquisition from Tina about my intentions with her son until I see her again. Hopefully, by then I’ll have the answers she’ll want. All I know is that I intend to stretch out every moment we can steal together between now and his inevitable return to Toronto. We can figure out what happens after that when the time comes.
“So,what’sgoingonwith you and Hotty McHotness?” Eliza corners me by the punch bowl. Across the room, her wife has my fake date cornered, so this was definitely planned. All my sisters can be ruthless strategists when they put their minds to it. It’s why I’ve long since stopped inviting them to the center’s bingo nights and I only play cooperative board games with them at family get-togethers. I want all that evil genius on my side.
As my eldest sister tries to ferret out the family gossip, it feels decidedly like she’s turning that tenacious streak against me. It’s no use hiding the public parts from her, especially when I know our brother-in-law must have spilled about our tree farm date.
Marcus pretended to look the other way when we came back tousled and with damp patches on our clothing from playing in the snow. I’m not naïve enough to think he didn’t notice and pass along the information. At the least he’d have told Gail, and she wouldn’t have been able to resist sharing with Eliza and her wife, Grace.
“We’re dating. It’s brand new, so I don’t want to jinx it.” That’s even a part of the truth.
I still don’t want to share what I’ve got with Nick yet. It’s like the holiday treats from long ago stockings that I used to hoard to myself. A little slice of perfection that can only be diminished in the sharing.
I’m not ready to tell my family about Nick. Which is ridiculous since the entire point of our fake dating arrangement was precisely this, having an easy lie for when they pried into my love life at the party. Now that it’s here, Nick doesn’t feel like a fake date and sharing him seems too personal. There’s irony in that, but I’m too raw with all the emotions of the past few days to appreciate it.
“Well, early days or not, it seems safe to say you’ve got yourself a new patron saint.”
“Huh?” That stings almost as much as a physical blow.
I rub at my chest. Is she implying I need to rely on a partner’s patronage to support myself? I don’t. Sure the early years of running Days of Grace were lean, but my elder care nonprofit is well established now. It brings in enough to fund our activities and pay myself and a handful of staff a living wage. I’m not raking in the riches, but that was never the goal.
Or is she saying Saint is replaceable? He’s not. His place in my heart has never been in doubt and I have enough love to give to both Saint and Nick. They don’t want remotely the same parts of me, and I love them both in unique ways—whoa, do IloveNick?
I’m certainly falling for him, but it feels far too soon for love to enter into things, no matter what romantic notions I have. I care about Nick and an unguarded part of my heart wants the sparks we’ve been nurturing to grow into the sort of romantic love I’ve been longing for. But it’s too soon and there’s too much stacked against us to call it love, right?
