Page 33 of Jacked
Alvin’s eyebrows knit together. “Desperate for…?”
“Advice. Sorry.” I laugh again. “Ugh, I’m a mess and my thoughts are just this tangled cluster that I can’t sort out and I don’t know who to talk to since I can’t talk to—” I bite my tongue to stop my rambling.
“Your best friend?” Alvin guesses.
I nod frantically. How did he know I meant AJ?
“Because he’s busy,” he says, his lips twitching at the corners.
Busy…? Oh,right. I told him I tried to call Nolan, that’s the best friend he’s referring to. I swallow and my shoulders sag a little.
“Sorry,” I say again with another awkward chuckle, dragging my fingers through my hair roughly. “This is totally inappropriate for work. We can totally forget it and it would be awesome if you didn’t report me to HR.”
Alvin snorts a laugh and the tension in his shoulders eases.
“It’s fine, you just caught me off guard. Not sure how I’ll be able to help, but go ahead, hit me with whatever gay thought spirals are dragging you under and we’ll see what we can do.” He sets his pen down on his notebook and leans back in his chair more casually.
Fuck, okay, I didn’t really think this through but if he’s going to be nice enough to listen, then I guess here goes nothing.
“How did you know you were into guys?”
“Well, right off the bat I would say, if you have to ask, you probably already know the answer.” He just arches one of his eyebrows this time, his lips flattening like he’s trying not to laugh.
“Right.” I bounce my leg under my desk. “I always thought that too, but it feels so much more confusing than that. Shouldn’t I justknow? I like women, I’ve never questioned thator had to think about it, it justis. How could I get to thirty before noticing that I’m also into dudes? And I tried scoping out guys at the gym, you know, just to see, and I couldn’t tell if I wanted to look like them or if I wanted to fuck them.”
His eyes are sympathetic, but his lips just keep twitching with suppressed amusement. He’s probably going to leave here and tell all of his gay friends about the idiot straight dude who couldn’t figure out the settings for his own dick.
“Okay, I get it. I haven’t dealt with a lot of that myself, but I do have a couple of bisexual friends who have shared similar struggles, so I think I can help. First, from what I understand, it’s not at all uncommon for bisexual people to take alotlonger to figure out their sexuality. Sometimes it’s because they’re more attracted to a particular gender so they just assume that’s all there is to it. Sometimes those preferences can shift over time, so it becomes more obvious later, and living in a heteronormative world, it’s not surprising that you defaulted to assuming you were straight since youdolike women.”
I nod in relief and agreement. Bisexual. Duh. Is that what I am? I roll the word around in my head, testing it out.
Hi, I’m Slater, I’m bisexual.
I can’t tell whether it feels rightyet, but it doesn’t feel wrong, so that’s probably a start.
Alvin goes on. “And as far as not being able to tell if you want to be someone or fuck them, I can tell you that it is disturbingly common to see queer relationships where they look like they could be twins. Who doesn’t want to look hot? It makes sense that a lot of people emulate the same look that attracts them.”
“That… makes a weird amount of sense.” I smile and bounce my leg again, this time more out of a newfound kind of energy than nerves. “I just… How do Iknow?”
“Uh…” Alvin rubs the back of his neck. “I mean, other than just introspection, kissing a guy might give you an idea?”
My stomach flutters wildly and I immediately think of AJ again, his mouth only inches from mine in the dark, the feeling of his hot breath against my lips…
I swallow and nod.
“Right,” I say gruffly. “Thanks, this helped.”
“Glad to be of service. One day when a potential baby queer comes to you in need, you can pay it forward.” He smiles, then picks his pen up again.
We transition back into work mode and I let the conversation settle into the back of my mind where I can deal with it later.
AJ
“Shit, is it that late already?” I frown at my smartwatch as Slater steps through the door to Sweat on Monday afternoon.
He usually shows up straight from work, still rocking his suit and tie with his gym bag slung over his shoulder. But today it looks like he stopped home to change first. He’s wearing a t-shirt, shorts, and his backward baseball cap. I stride over to greet him and an unfamiliar smell tickles my nose. I sniff and he gives me a strange look.
“Are you wearing cologne?” I chuckle and tilt my head, realizing as soon as I do it that it’s a move I picked up from Slater—his cute little puppy dog tilt. I doubt I look half as adorable.
