Page 67 of Our Elliana

“Too late,” Aaron mumbles where only I can hear him.

“I love hearing that you’re putting yourself out there again.” This is the closest Mom will ever get to mentioning Ruthie. Bringing her up would mean bringing up our excommunication disaster, and that’s one thing my loved ones never do.

“It’s just casual.” I focus on my mashed potatoes. “We’re not exclusive or anything.”

Mom’s face falls, and Dad frowns.

“You’re not exclusive?” he asks, and I wish I’d lied and told them I wasn’t dating anyone.

“It’s complicated,” I say again, feeling like I’m making things worse instead of better. “I’m concentrating most of my efforts on professional pursuits.”

There. That’s accurate.

I save myself any more thorniness by funneling the rest of the conversation back around to what’s going on with them. We moved to D.C. in the first place because my dad had a senior accountant opportunity, but after his stroke, it took him a few months to recover. After that he found something else, but it’s only entry-level with a fraction of the salary.

Mom has since parlayed her part-time librarian position into full-time, but even then, it doesn’t pay much.

At fifteen, Aaron needs to focus on school, and Oliver and Kayden are only in the seventh grade. Thankfully, my earnings through Elegance have been able to cover their rent and car payments.

I couldn’t have handled that extra financial load had it not been for working with Elliana. Firefighting is rewarding, but it doesn’t offer much better compensation than library work. We conclude our holiday meal and laze about for the rest of that day. The next morning my dad pulls me off to the side.

“Thank you, son.” I know this is about the money. But I couldn’t not help out. He doesn’t need to know how.

“No biggie.”

“Actually, it is.” Dad sounds peeved. Yet I didn’t mean my response to be flippant. Not at all. “And we’re going to pay you back.”

“I’m not worried about—”

“We will. End of discussion.”

Internally, I sigh. I feel this chasm opening between us because I’m keeping so much from him. So, so much. And I don’t know how I’ll ever close it.

Driving home is an exercise in trying to untangle the web I’m somehow stuck in, but I come up with no meaningful solutions. The short answer is I can’t afford to stop working for Elegance, and I have no desire to end my contract with Elle.

I can’t tell my parents about my secret employer, nor do I feel like I can sit down and discuss some of the revelations I’m making about my sexuality. In an attempt to do something productive, I use the AI on my phone to answer some questions. I saw Tristan asking his phone to call out the ingredients in a recipe once, and I’m curious about whether it’ll work for me.

“Hey, Siri, how do I know if I’m gay?” I say the term “gay” in a whisper, then want to kick myself. I’m alone in my Tacoma, for goodness’ sake.

She says, “Here’s what I found for you on the internet,” and rattles off several LGBTQIA+ sites and support groups. That’s useful, actually. But I can’t read and drive.

“Hey, Siri, tell me about the different types of sexuality and what they mean.”

She reads off several definitions for a variety of sexual orientations, and honestly, it’s all extremely overwhelming. I’m attracted to Elliana, no question. I know that much. And I was attracted to Ruthie, even if we only ever shared a couple of kisses that I now know were incredibly tame. I never even tasted her tongue.

But I liked being next to her and holding her hand. I remember how she smelled faintly of vanilla. Back then, sex was off-limits. I may have been aroused by her on occasion, but I’d always done my best to shut anything like that down.

There’s no shutting down this carnal need I feel for Elle. Well, I should probably call it what it is... lustful desire. I know I should feel bad about the thoughts I have about her, about how often I wake up from wet dreams about her. But while there’s a niggle of remorse there, it’s not much. I glory in being with Elle too much. Beside and inside her.

Not sure what that means for my eternal soul.

I force myself to relive what scared me so badly before. Not only Jackson having sex within inches of where I’d been laying but also witnessing Tristan’s seed splattering onto Elliana’s rich dark skin.

I’d very nearly come right there on the spot. I know every inch of Elle’s body like the back of my hand, and since that night, I can also likely draw Tristan’s member as well as I can my own.

And shoot, just thinking about all this makes me hard.

I like Tristan. He might’ve started out keeping his distance, but his exuberance when explaining his birthday surprise for Elliana was catching. We worked side by side with Jackson to make what Tristan envisioned a reality, and I enjoyed it.

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