Page 54 of Our Elliana

“Porn is full of women and men, Noah,” I jump in. “Men get hard and get off watching it, and it’s not only pussies and tits that get us there. It doesn’t mean you need to question your sexuality.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being gay,” Jackson picks up the narrative again. “Or bi, queer, or whatever. You’re obviously attracted to Elle. Lots of people are attracted to lots of other people who aren’t necessarily the opposite sex. I have been. Whatever you identify as, you’re fine. Okay?”

The musician is right. Having anyone consent to hook up with you is a good thing in my book, even if I’ve personally never knowingly done it with someone who isn’t identifiably female.

Too bad I tend to alienate everyone, regardless of sexual orientation, gender identity, or any other factor. Still, I’ll be the first to admit that I’m not exactly a people person. I’m actually kind of stunned that this whole live-in situation with Elle hasn’t blown up in my face.

“I kissed a girl once. And I’ve had lesbian dreams and woke up wet,” Elle volunteers, and holy fuck that’s hot.

Come to think of it, I had a couple of sex dreams where I was being blown by another man. I’m straight, and it didn’t bother me. I’ve never felt into any particular guy, but who’s to say it couldn’t happen? Sounds pretty limited, if you ask me. And didn’t I read a statistic stating that the LGBTQIA+ community amounts to ten to twenty percent of the population?

That’s not a small number.

Also, who the fuck cares? Why not live and let live? Frankly, I don’t care what any of us are. Noah could tell me he’s fantasized about being with a sasquatch crossed with a lion while swimming on a horse through a river of cake batter, and I wouldn’t so much as flinch.

What difference does it make?

“So,” Noah starts in a small voice, peeking at each of us in turn. “If I am not just into women, you’d be all right with that?”

“Sure,” Jackson pipes up, and I bob my head in agreement.

Elle’s onboard, too. “Of course.”

“But my family might not be,” he whispers, sounding defeated.

And at that, we all fall silent.

TWENTY-THREE: The Halfway Point

ELLIANA

Today marks the halfway point since the guys entered my life. Ninety days. I reflect on this as I send in my most recent survey, ticking the highest possible ratings across the board. My life has become so much richer by having them around, and I don’t mean the rich that comes from dollars and cents. They’ve made me feel special, and they’ve made me feel safe.

And considering recent events, that’s no small feat.

That’s not to say that I’m not freaked the fuck out by the break-in. Because I am. I can’t even wrap my mind around that, the cards, or anything else related to that entire debacle. But this only highlights how essential—even crucial—having those men here has been for me.

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