Page 49 of Not My Fault

I’d never felt this taken care of before. I never wanted to do that with anyone else before because I didn’t know how they’d react to the mess. But Gus is more worried about how I’m feeling than the way their sheets will look tomorrow. I’d hooked up with men before I realized I was a lesbian, and while it was a disappointment for obvious reasons, it definitely never felt like this. Even my other relationships felt more about a quick lay than actually connecting. I feel safe with Gus; I know I can trust them.

“Do you want to watch a movie in bed?” Gus asks.

“What about you? You didn’t come.” I frown.

“So? You look exhausted and I’m more than satisfied right now.” Gus kisses my forehead.

“Okay.” I know they’re not lying to me. I can feel it in my heart, but I also know that’s not the kind of relationship we have. They are always honest with me.

We put on some new rom com, but we aren’t really watching it. Gus is playing with my hair and I’m thinking of song lyrics in my head. Something new, something about Gus. Something that truly terrifies me, if I’m being honest. Which is why I don’t write the lyrics down. It would be like admitting out loud that they’re true, and I’m not ready for that.

The rest of the day, Gus and I take turns asking each other things to get to know each other better. We play with their cats, we order in more food, and we have lots of sex. It’s domestic and cute and it might just be the best day I’ve ever had. I don’t know what it is about Gus, but being with them makes me feel like I can handle anything. They kiss my forehead and hold my hand, and I know deep down, they wouldn’t care if I wasn’t LULY. They want me for me. There’s no fear that they’re in this for some ulterior motive.

“You’re so cute when you’re focused on something,” Gus murmurs.

“Sorry, I was paying attention.” I shift focus back to the movie playing.

“No, you weren’t, but that’s okay.” Gus laughs.

“It is?”

“Sure, if I had to guess, whatever you were thinking about it more important than the end credits of a movie we didn’t watch,” they say, and I realize I missed the entire movie.

“I was thinking of song lyrics,” I admit.

“Anything good?”

“Just a really good breakup song,” I say sarcastically. But when Gus doesn’t laugh, I realize they think I’m serious. “I’m joking! Sorry I thought you knew that.”

“Way to give a guy a heart attack.” Gus clutches their chest and lets out a deep breath.

“I’m sorry.” I nuzzle my face into the space between their neck and collar bone.

“It’s okay.” Gus kisses my hair, and I relax under their touch.

I start to hum an unfamiliar melody, and I realize this song was writing itself. I can’t recall the last time I wrote a love song that I meant. Most of them are generic or inspired by things, but never have I written one with a person in mind. Is there such a thing as a like song? No, probably not because that sounds sort of shitty. But that’s what I needed. At least for now. I don’t want to rush into anything and ruin it by going at hyper speed. So I hum lightly and hope I’ll remember the lyrics for when I’m ready to sing them.

TWENTY-FOUR

Gus

“Are you ready for this?” Emily asks quietly, sitting next to me in the back of a fancy limousine.

“I think so?” I adjust my tie again to make sure it’s straight.

I’m out of my depth, but I’m wearing my fanciest black suit, complete with a pink tie that matches Emily’s dress. It took everything in me not to rip it off her once I saw her in it. Her dress is floor length, pink and sparkly, but hangs tightly around her body and is completely backless. Which also means she isn’t wearing a bra, and her tits look amazing.

“It’s a little intense when we first get out, but once we get inside, it’ll be okay,” Emily reassures me with a smile and a gentle squeeze of my hand.

“Okay.” I nod.

It’s our first public appearance since we started officially dating last month. Most of our time has been spent indoors, which cannot be shared with the public. So Viv wasn’t thrilled and insisted we choose some events that can showcase our romance. Emily and I chose the LGBTQ+ charity art gala. It’s an event hosted inside one of the city’s nicest hotels and onlythe elite were invited. Emily said the buy-in was something like fifty thousand dollars a person. But it all goes to at-risk LGBTQ+ youth right here in the city.

The limousine pulls to a stop and the doors open. Emily gets out first to an array of cheers and excitement. She holds her hand out, and I let out a deep breath before taking it and joining her on the rainbow carpet. That is cute. Paparazzi are taking photos, a security guard in a tux is leading us to the press and where we’ll pose for photos. Everyone is shouting Emily’s stage name, and I’m trying to keep up.

Emily and I stop, and we pose for a few photos together. Then they ask Emily to be alone, so I take her clutch and stand back so I’m not in the way. Emily captivates the attention of everyone there. Every camera is on her and she effortlessly poses like a model. When she’s done, she joins me with a quick peck on the cheek. Heading inside, we stop to answer some questions about our relationship with the press.

Viv appears out of nowhere in a long black dress and a grimace on her face. Does that woman ever smile? She taps her imaginary watch at Emily, who sighs.

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