Page 85 of Safety Net
Her smile disappeared as she defaulted to worry. "Yeah?"
I brushed my thumb across her cheek, trying to remind her that everything was okay.
"Have you ever thought about your sexuality? Ever considered you may be demisexual?"
Her brow furrowed. "I don't think so. I… I'm not sure I know what that is."
I shrugged. "I didn't either until a couple of years ago. My grandma—love her to the moon and back—isn't exactly educated on sexuality. Or gender. Or much of anything outside what goes on in her world. After Henrik came out—it'd been hard for him—I realized I had blind spots. It was another mystery I wanted to solve. And I wanted to learn how to be there for him. So, I researched. Fell a lot of rabbit holes."
She sat up. "So, what I explained is what others have felt? I-I mean, I know I'm not unique enough to have an isolated experience, but… there's a word for how I feel?"
I nodded and massaged circles on the back of her hand. "You should look into it for yourself. Make sure it feels right. But you said you needed a connection. And other people experience desire in that way. It's not an anomaly. You're not an outlier. Celeste, everything you feel and how you feel it is perfect. It's you."
She pushed the covers off and carefully made her way over the makeshift table to crawl into my arms. Celeste buried her face into my neck as I squeezed her tightly into a hug. We stayed quiet for a while, enjoying each other's warmth and energy.
"Thank you," she whispered. "For making me feel safe."
My arms tightened around her, one hand on the back of her head, the other around her waist. "You'll always be safe with me."
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CELESTE
Ididn't know how we strayed so far off the beaten path, but somehow I convinced Lincoln to unwind by watching a Barbie movie.
"You said this is your comfort movie?" he asked for the second time.
I poked his side. "Yes, why?"
"No reason…" Lincoln rubbed slow, soothing circles on my lower back. "So, this sidekick."
"Bibble," I reminded him, relaxing into his arms. Watching my comfort movie with my comfort person was a dream that left me feeling high on satisfaction.
Lincoln pressed his nose into my hair, which was his way of quilling laughter when he thought he needed to take something seriously. It was a new habit I loved being a part of.
"We like them?" he said once he pulled away from my head. "Like, Bibble's not some sleeper agent. Or a weird distraction to teach us the woes of judging a book by its cover?"
"We like Bibble," I confirmed. "Could maybe even love him, you know?"
"Definitely…but just in case I didn't know," he said. "Just theoretically, if I come across someone one day who doesn't know. What should I tell them?"
"That Bibble's Bibble and we love him for it."
"Truer words have never been spoken," Lincoln agreed. "Never mind the fact he looks like he could stab someone in the back at a moment's notice?—"
I playfully backhanded his chest.
"We love him and his design so much," he finished. "It's not creepy at all."
"What do you have against good art?" I asked.
"I love good art. It's the reason I live and breathe. For Bibble, actually, is who I live and breathe for. I want to thank you for this moment. For reminding me why I'm here, living and breathing for Bibble."
I snorted. "You do too much."
He squeezed me closer and whispered, "You love it."
"I do." Because his "too much" was just right.
