Page 42 of This Is Who I Am

“We’ve got it, boss. Go. Be with your lady. Enjoy. I’ll lock up.”

“Thanks, Kelly, you’re the best.”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” she jokingly shouts after me.

“Come on.” We take the bottle and two wine glasses to the privacy of my apartment.

* * *

After Estelle and August have greeted each other like old friends, we end up sitting very close to each other in the couch.

It’s hard not to burst into a silly grin every time I look into Estelle’s face. Even the way she holds her wine glass, cupped in her hand, is sensual. It’s also hard not to kiss her, which is the very reason I brought us here, but I’m confused by how fast this is moving—especially if kissing is the end station of what we will physically do together.

“Can I ask you another one of my ignorant questions?”

“Curiosity is the opposite of ignorance,” she says, making me feel like a million bucks again. “It’s perfectly normal to have questions.”

“After you told me you were ace, I didn’t think things would be so… physical between us. I didn’t expect you to kiss me like that.”

“Like how?” Estelle must have had a variation on this conversation a dozen times and she can probably read me like an open book.

“Like… foreplay.”

“Would you rather we didn’t kiss?”

As she asks the question, all I can do is stare at her lips with all my defenses down. “Heavens, no.” I shake my head for emphasis.

“Do you want more?” There’s not a hint of judgement in her tone.

“No, I mean… I don’t know. Maybe.” I huff out some air. “I’m sorry for being so un-suave about this.” I have to search for my words again. “I guess I was wondering how you feel about sleepovers?”Sleepovers?As if we really are teenagers. My cheeks might as well be on fire that’s how hot they’re burning.

“Everything is debatable, except one thing,” she says. “We can talk about anything you want, Cass. It’s important that you ask me whatever you need to ask me. It’s okay. I won’t be embarrassed and you don’t need to be embarrassed either, although I understand it can be a bit awkward.”

“And that one thing would be that I can’t touch you below the waist?” I ask.

Estelle nods. “In a sexual way.”

“Okay.” I take a sip of wine. “Has it always been this way for you?”

“Yes, although it took me a long time to figure out. Obviously, when I started developing feelings for other people, I experimented, just like everyone else.” Her gaze is as soft as her voice. “I basically did everything with some girlfriends, but, um…” She pauses. “Well, let’s say I could not believe my eyes when I saw how sex affected my partners. I literally couldn’t fathom it, because I don’t feel it. I never have and I never will—I know that now.” Her shoulders sag a little. “I’ve been to so many doctors. Psychiatrists. Neurologists. Every kind of therapist you can think of. You name it, I’ve seen them.” She looks away now. “Because I felt abnormal and I wanted answers. But sometimes there is no answer.” She expels the smallest of sighs. “Except that I am partially asexual.” She tips her head. “Which probably only raises more questions with you.”

“Thank you for sharing.” She’s right, I have so many more questions.

“Not a problem. I’m happy to share. Honestly, the number one job of an asexual person is disentangling confusion.” She chuckles. “It’s what we spend the energy on we don’t use for sex.”

I’m so glad she just made a joke. It lightens the earnest vibe that has descended on my living room. A tension not caused by Estelle, but by my lack of knowledge. I happily chuckle along, ignoring the fact that her openness and the ease with which she talks about herself, quite ironically, only makes her more attractive to me.

“I’m perfectly happy not having sex, but I’m equally happy giving. I leave that entirely up to my partner.”

“That kind of sounds like the dream of quite a few women.”

“It may sound like it, but most women are givers. Because of how women are socialized, they have no idea how to just receive. Especially an orgasm.”

“Really?” I’ve never considered this.

“Trust me.”

“Is that why you have all those scars on your heart?”

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