Page 40 of Romance Languages

My eyes snapped open to find Seamus unbuttoning my shirt.

“What are you doing?” I asked. My hand clamped around his.

“Undressing you?”

“Why?”

“To set the mood?” He snatched back his hand and rubbed out the cramping from my grip.

“Why do I need to be shirtless for a handjob? That seems severe.” I sat up straight and buttoned my shirt faster than the speed of light.

“I don’t know. It’s hot. I was going to take off my shirt, too.”

“Why? You’re the one giving.” None of the porn I’d watched in my life had explained these clothing etiquette rules to me.

“I do my best sexual work when I’m naked. Clothes can be very constricting.”

Seamus and his gorgeous body could get away with a comment like that. Me? Not so much. My life had been firmly lived in clothes.

“Jules, have you ever been naked in front of anyone?”

“Aside from birth? No.”

“Just pretend you’re home alone hanging out.”

“Why would I hang out in my house naked?”

“You don’t? You mean, when you’re home alone, you don’t walk around naked or jerk off naked or sleep naked?”

“No!” I said, horrified. “Do you?”

“Yeah. I love being naked. It’s what God intended.” He rubbed a confused hand through his hair. “Okay, new question: have you ever seen yourself naked?”

“I…Probably.”

“You never looked at yourself in the mirror?”

Was my friend a secret exhibitionist? These questions had to be sourced from outer space, far removed from the realms of sanity.

“No! Why would I stand in front of a mirror and look at myself? That’s conceited.”

“What about when you get out of the shower? You ever catch a glimpse of yourself?”

I was too embarrassed to tell him the truth. As soon as the shower was done, I grabbed a towel, wrapped it around myself, and bolted into my bedroom for a T-shirt before I could give myself a chance to look up.

I knew what I looked like. I knew in the way Mom studied my body like car crash footage, in the way guys would bolt when I tried striking up a conversation, in the way the gay dating world put me into the fatty box. I didn’t need a mirror to tell me what I already knew.

“God did not intend for us to be naked. He gave humans brains and opposable thumbs so that we could have the good sense to manufacture clothing and cover ourselves up.” I wrapped a throw blanket around myself. “I like wearing clothes. So sue me.”

“You understand that in a few sessions, you’re going to have to be naked. Unless you intend to cut a hole in your jeans, I don’t know how else we’re going to have sex.”

I hadn’t thought that far ahead, but the realization sent a shiver up my spine.

“We’re…That’s a long ways away.”

“Well, we gotta get comfortable. So, let’s get naked.” He began to unbuckle his own belt. I used my vice-like grip to forcibly remove his hand.

“We can cross that bridge later.”Muchlater.

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