Page 75 of Romance Languages

“Is there anything that we’re missing? Any big milestones?”

“Rimming,” Hutch shouted out.

“I was going to say that.” Raleigh shot him a playful glare. “Rimming. It’s the best equivalent to eating out a girl.”

I nodded, the term clicking. My subconscious seemed to grasp this faster than my conscious brain. I looked down and found my finger was circling the rim of my glass. “Huh, I didn’t know guys would be into that.”

“We are,” Hutch and Raleigh said at the same time, startling each other.

“Giving, receiving. Both good.” Raleigh gave it two thumbs up. I appreciated his lack of filter.

“Agreed,” Hutch said more demurely.

“Your boyfriends are into it? Did they need convincing?” I asked.

“I don’t lick and tell,” Raleigh said.

“Uh, same I guess.” Hutch drank his beer. “But I will say that it’s…it’s an incredibly intimate experience. More intimate than sex can be.”

“Really?”

“When you’re receiving, you’re putting yourself in the most vulnerable position a guy can be in. With sex, you and your partner can be face-to-face. With rimming, you’re asking a guy to put his face up close and personal with you. Does that make sense?”

I nodded yes. Somehow, it made crystal clear sense.

“You need to innately trust your partner,” he continued. “And when you’re giving, you have to respect that your partner is letting themselves be in this incredibly vulnerable position.”

“I couldn’t have said it better myself. Well, I probably could have. I am great at public speaking, but Hutch hit the nail on the hole. I mean, head.” Raleigh downed the last of his beer.

“Interesting.” I looked at my wine glass. The thought of being that intimate with Julian was scary, but exciting. This whole arrangement had been scary but exciting.

“If you’re already doing all that other stuff with your male friend, then add this to the list. It’s hot,” Hutch said.

Raleigh raised his empty glass. “Carpe dat ass!”

21

JULIAN

This was a week of lasts. If all went according to plan, then this would be my last week as a virgin. And currently, I was standing in front of health class for the final week before Mrs. Stockman returned on Monday.

“Let’s talk about sex,” I proclaimed.

Kids reacted as expected, with giggles and looks down at their desks. I didn’t feel as nervous. While I hadn’t had full-on sex, I was much closer than I had been on the first day.

The lesson went smoothly enough as we discussed consent and the different kinds of penetrative sex. I remained as clinical as possible. Kids needed the facts.

“Sex is a major milestone in your lives. You want to be prepared physically and emotionally.”

Meanwhile, I was doing my best to prepare for my first time. That rule-breaking kiss, and the way he looked at me every time we got physical, made me believe that there was a real connection there. Maybe Seamus was more than straight, and we were more than friends.

“Actually, it’s not that big of a deal,” said Front Row Menace, whose name turned out to be Cale. No wonder he was kind of a jerk. His parents named him after a vegetable.

“Sex isn’t a big deal?” I asked.

“I mean, it’s great. Don’t get me wrong. But it’s just like whatever, you know?”

Not even the world’s foremost expert on grammar could untangle that sentence.

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