Page 103 of Best Served Cold

It was a huge copout to tell him any of this while he was three sheets to the wind and probably wouldn’t remember it in the morning, but in the off chance he did, this was the perfect opportunity to finally say what had been weighing on me since he’d walked away from me in the woods.

“You’re not?” He didn’t look at me, but by the way he was sitting stock-still and tense, he was fully tuned into me.

“No. I thought I was ace.”

“Ace? I thought you were a fuckboy?”

I spluttered with laughter. “What? Who the fuck told you that?”

“Everyone. Like everyone.”

“Well everyone is wrong. I’ve never fucked anyone but you.”

“Really?” His eyes went wide. They were guarded, but I could see the hope he was so desperately trying to hide.

I fixed my attention on the road. “Really. You were my first everything.” My cheeks burned. I gripped the steering wheel so tight my knuckles cramped. Was I blushing?

I didn’t get embarrassed easily, but talking about this with Noah, even when he was drunk, was embarrassing as hell.

“I was?”

Nodding, I kept my eyes on the road.

“But what about all the girls?”

“What girls?”

“The ones at work?”

“The customers?” I threw him a quick look.

“Yeah.”

“What about them?”

“All that dancing up on them and taking them behind the building. What about that?”

“I already told you I don’t do private dances.” I sucked in a deep breath. Might as well go for broke and confess everything. “I don’t bring people on stage, either. Just you.”

“Really?” The hope in his voice was almost unbearable.

“Really,” I said gruffly. “And you’re the only one I’ve ever… There’s no girls. Never was.”

“So you’re not into girls, or guys?”

“I don’t know what I’m into,” I admitted. “Riv thinks I’m demi. Out of everything, that feels the most right, but I really have no idea.” I paused. “Are you bi?”

“I think so.” Noah scrunched up his forehead like he was trying to solve a riddle. “I like girls, and I like you. But I don’t actually like people. I don’t think, at least.”

“…I’m gonna need a translation.”

He chuckled. “Do you know what aro is?”

“Like aromantic?”

“Yeah. I think I’m that. Or at least I did.”

“What do you mean?”

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