Page 70 of Our Secret to Keep

“He has one,” River says without hesitation. “And he makes me participate.”

Her eyebrow raises. “Makes you?”

“No,” River says to clarify. “Nate has never forced me to do anything. He needs me to be there when we have sex with women. So he feels safe.”

“Do the two of you have a sexual relationship with each other?”

He shakes his head, then stops moving, lips parted. “Well, not exactly. Sometimes, he asks me to give him handjobs. More recently, he’s been making porn for me. Once, he jerked me off. But never sex.”

“We also watch porn and masturbate together,” I admit. “And have done so since we became roommates at boarding school.”

“How often do you ask River for help with your sexual desires?”

I shrug. “On occasion.”

“It happened twice on Sunday.” River wraps his arms around his middle as if he needs a hug. “The first time in the movie theater. And then, again that night in his bedroom when Nate showed me a porno he made for me.”

She takes a few notes. Then her eyes dart to River. “How did you respond?”

River folds his hands on his lap and sighs. “I wanted to help him. So I did. But it’s confusing for me.”

She scribbles onto her pad, eyes pointed down. “Why is it confusing?”

“Nate is straight,” he says, tugging at the ends of his dark hair. “Yet he’s asking me to get him off. And I’m… Well, I’m still trying to figure out my sexuality.”

“I like how your hand feels,” I say, even though it’s fucking humiliating to admit aloud. “It’s the closest I can get to doing it myself but more gratifying.”

His head snaps to me. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“So my hand is just a hand?”

He looks hurt but also doesn’t seem surprised.

“What do you want me to say?”

He inches away, elbow rested on the arm of the couch, and peeks down at his lap.

“I’m not gay,” I state to clear the air.

Even as I say the words, they feel wrong. Dirty. The first time I crossed the line with River, I stopped being straight. Maybe I’m bisexual. I don’t fucking know anymore.

“When it comes to sex addiction,” Dr. Swanson says, her eyes on me, “it’s not about the sex or attraction to another person. Sex is only a symptom of the underlying problem. If you have a sex addiction, it would likely be a result of your trauma.”

I take a second to digest her words, letting them roll around in my brain until they make sense. All of this comes back to that bitch. Of course, it does. On some level, I have always known that.

“If it’s not about sex, then why am I jonesing for an orgasm all the time?”

“Because what you crave is an emotional connection to someone. You want to feel some form of intimacy. You desire an emotional connection with your partner, but you seek it elsewhere when you don’t find it.”

“I don’t have a partner. I’ve never even had a girlfriend.”

“River fills that void for you,” she says, not a question but a statement.

“He’s the only stable relationship I’ve ever had.”

“Do you feel close to him?”

---