17. Rowdy

17

ROWDY

I checked out the bracelet and the lightbulb in my head finally sputtered on.

“Is that new?”

Jaxon covered it with his large hand, twisting it around his wrist. “Yeah. Kinda.”

“Did you make it yourself?”

He nodded, shy.

“You did a great job with it.” I hesitated. I didn’t want to push, but I did want to let him know I understood. “Are those the aro-ace colors?”

He looked over at Kess, for some reason, who encouraged him with a smile.

“Yes.”

I took the desk from the next row and spun it around, sitting as the kids went to the front of the class for Kool-Aid and cookies. “Has today’s discussion made you uncomfortable?”

He seemed to fold in on himself.

“A little,” he admitted after a pregnant pause. “I, uh, noticed that you didn’t talk about Ace and Aro people. I don’t want to date, but I know a lot do. It just looks different for them, and it might be nice to give them some space to do it.”

I looked over at Kess, and my stomach bottomed out. Not only had I completely left out the aro-ace experience in today’s discussion—which was a pretty big miss on my part—I had a choice to make. I could address Jaxon’s concern as a neutral administrator, or I could open up about my own experience.

I knew which one was the right option.

Fuck.

Deep breaths, Rowdy. You can do this.

“You’re right, Jax. Thank you for bringing that up.” I looked down at my own hands, clasped on the desk in front of me. “I’m actually demisexual, and to be honest, it’s often easier to talk about allosexuality than it is to include all the shades of asexuality and aromanticism.”

Kess’s head shot up, and his hand went to his mouth. I glanced at him, taking in his widened eyes, then refocused on Jaxon, grateful that Kess had the good sense to keep his mouth shut.

“I get it, Rowd,” Jaxon said, leaving his bracelet to tap his fingertips on his desk. “It feels, like, negative? To talk about what somebody is not? And I prefer to focus on the things I like, but sometimes I need to say what I don’t want.”

“That’s a great point,” I responded, once again a little sad that such a young guy had to navigate scenarios that would be hard for even an older person to address. “I wonder...Would you feel comfortable talking about what this means to you? And how you feel at this age?”

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, revealing the thirteen-year-old underneath all of that brawn.

“You don’t have to,” I quickly tacked on. “But your identity is just as valid and important as everyone else’s. I get it on some level, but there’s a lot I don’t understand.”

“Like what?” Jaxon asked, his eyes luminous.

I raised a shoulder, stifling the urge to look at Kess. “I, uh…” I took a deep breath. You can do this. “I love the romantic stuff, but it’s been hard to find a partner who likes it as much as I do. And most of my friends have these crazy hook-up stories, but none of that sounds like a good time to me. So, I often feel like the odd man out.”

Jaxon fussed with the knot on his bracelet. “I feel like I’m the odd man out everywhere I go. I’m too tall, I’m too young, I’m not horny like I’m supposed to be. It’s just easier to lie, you know?”

Double fuck.

“I know all about that,” I admitted, rubbing my forehead so I could avoid Kess’s reaction. “It’s hard to know where the line is. First of all, you don’t owe anyone your sexuality. Second, it’s probably important that the people closest to you know the truth.”

Kess shifted in his seat. I ignored his stare, even as I felt it burning up my skin.

Jaxon nodded in agreement. “I don’t know how to tell people I don’t like the romantic stuff. Like, at all. And, like, the number of kids my age doing stuff feels wrong. But I can’t tell if it’s an age thing or a me-thing? It’s very confusing. Like, I told my friends that I panicked when that lady hit on me, and they thought I was crazy for not going with it.”

“Have you talked to your mom about any of this?”

He snorted. “Be for real, Rowdy. I’m not giving her something new to worry about.”

I laughed. “I can promise you she’d rather discuss your asexuality than get another call like the one she got,” I said, not wanting to talk about the shoplifting around a virtual stranger to him.

Jaxon scrunched his nose at me. “That was a onetime thing.”

“I know.” I hoped he understood I meant it. “But whether or not you choose to discuss your sexuality in the second half of today’s class, I would like you to hang back afterward and talk with Mrs. Ceballos. You and your mom have a lot of shit going on, and it’s easy to skip over subjects that don’t seem as urgent. Just because your sexuality is not on fire doesn’t mean it’s not important.”

Jaxon rubbed his hands together, seeming to disburse his nervous energy. “Okay.”

Unable to avoid it for a second longer, I snuck another peek in Kess’s direction. He was looking at me with a line between his brows and a baffled look in his eyes. He didn’t say anything, but I had a feeling that the ride home would be an interesting one. I didn’t exactly regret talking about my sexuality in front of him, but I didn’t know what was going to happen next, and that scared me.

Break time was over, so I turned the desk around and rejoined Mrs. Ceballos at the front of the classroom. We chatted briefly about adding asexuality to the curriculum, then called everyone to order. I couldn’t shake my nerves and refused to look at Kess as the wildlings took their time finding their seats. The students had somehow grown even noisier and hardly anyone had taken their seats—I probably should’ve brought Bandit to herd everyone.

Remembering one of my favorite teachers on social media, I sang the opening bars of the most recent, super viral song, and the classroom sang them back to me as they found their seats.

“Damn, I wasn’t sure that would work.”

The classroom laughed, and it settled some of my nerves.

“Over the break, it was brought to my attention that we’d omitted something pretty critical in our discussion about consent and safety. We’d hoped to talk about these things in a sexuality neutral way, but we left off the fact that not everyone enjoys sex, and not everyone enjoys romance. Asexuality and aromanticism, which scale like everything else, are legitimate orientations.”

Several of the students tittered, and Jaxon looked like he wanted to disappear under his desk. I help up my hand.

“In fact, I’m pretty sure I’m demisexual, and, to be honest, this is the first time I’ve ever said that out loud to a group of people.”

A chorus of oOOooo ’s went up around the classroom and I rolled my eyes.

“Menaces, all of you.” I grimaced. “But you should know that kind of reaction means that I would rather hide my sexuality than share it openly. And there’s nothing wrong with it. I’m gay and demisexual, and while it’s a certain sort of progress that I can be open about being gay, there’s still some space to go to make people like me, and people who are aromantic or asexual, feel comfortable in being open about that.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Lockwood,” a girl said from the middle of the class. “That’s kind of fucked up.”

I nodded. “Yeah, it kind of is. Actually, the thing that’s really fucked up is that there’s this hierarchy. And in this classroom, we can talk about being equal, but we know that when we go out into the world, straight and cis are the defaults, and it feels like there’s a similar hierarchy of sexuality and gender. It makes you want to lie about your truth.”

I darted a look over to Kess, and his eyes had never left me. He placed his hand on his chest, and a small smile played on his lips.

God, I was in trouble.

I looked over at Mrs. Ceballos, and she sent me a wink. Good job , she mouthed.

She then took up the torch and asked if anyone had questions. A few did, and then she left space for any who wanted to talk about whether this resonated with them.

After a few moments, Jaxon raised his hand. She let him speak, listening carefully as he talked about figuring himself out, and how he still didn’t know if he’d always feel this way or if he’d change his mind. She asked some really beautiful follow-up questions and ensured him that sexuality was rarely fixed, often evolving over time, and that wherever he ended up was always going to be just right.

By the end of the afternoon, two more students had raised their hands to discuss where they were on the asexuality spectrum and, once again, I was reminded why this work was so important to me. It was damn hard to make space for everyone. But when we did it successfully, there wasn’t a better feeling in the whole wide world.

Mrs. Ceballos stayed and chatted with Jaxon, and they made a plan to see each other virtually.

Sadie’s shift ended at the same time the class ended, and Austin traffic was always a nightmare, so Kess and I waited with Jaxon after his talk with Mrs. Ceballos. I didn’t mind waiting, especially since it was a perfectly good excuse to delay the conversation with Kess.

Our time was further extended, though, when Sadie texted and said she had to cover for a late employee and wouldn’t be able to take off for another ten minutes or so.

I showed Kess her text and asked, “Would you mind if we dropped off Jaxon?”

“Not at all.”

I texted her back.

Me: No worries. We’ll bring him home.

Sadie: If I weren’t so exhausted, I’d say no.

Sadie: But if you don’t mind...

Me: Not one bit.

The situation with my truck was hilarious. My little Ford Ranger had an extended cab, but that wasn’t saying much. Kess gamely offered to get in the back since Jaxon was taller, but that would’ve been ridiculous.

I let Kess drive while I sat in the back with my knees up around my ears. As he drove, he and Jaxon got along like a house on fire, and Kess got him to talk about things I’d never been able to get him to open up about.

“So, what’s interesting to you?” Kess asked.

It was better than asking a thirteen-year-old what he wanted to be when he grew up. Jaxon lifted his shoulders, then let them drop as if his answer was heavy.

“I don’t like being stuck inside. I get bored with video games. I think I’d die if I had to work in an office after spending all this time in school.”

“Preach,” I said and held out my fist. He bumped it.

“There’s nothing wrong with working in an office,” Kess grumped, which Jaxon found hilarious. “But if you prefer to be outdoors, that’s good to know.”

“I’ve heard Rowdy talk about the animals he works with, and that sounds fun. I mean, I’ve never even owned a dog, but I think I’d really like to work with animals.”

Kess glanced at me in the rearview mirror.

“I can see that,” he said, still holding my gaze. “Rowdy and I should put our heads together and maybe check with some of our friends about an apprentice situation.”

Jaxon waved off that suggestion. “Mom would never be able to get me out there. She says her car is basically held together with duct tape and a prayer at this point.”

Kess laughed. “That doesn’t bode well. Especially if you don’t know which God is answering the prayer.”

That cracked Jaxon up, and I sat back, listening as the conversation veered all over the place: cars, school, even woodworking. We stopped at a drive-through and got a big bucket of fried chicken and salad for Jaxon and his mom.

When we reached the trailer, Kess, who’d likely never seen a living situation like this up close, exited the truck and neutralized his face.

He clamped his hand on Jaxon’s shoulder. “Thank you for sharing what you did this afternoon. And for telling me the things that you enjoy.”

Jaxon shifted uncomfortably. “It was nothing.”

But it wasn’t, and Kess and I knew it.

Sadie pulled up next to us, her Justy an homage to rust and Bondo. She brightened when she saw her son and quickly jumped out of her car to give him a hug. Kess’s mind was spinning behind those intelligent eyes, taking in all the details, likely already starting to fix things in his head.

I’d have to warn him to not make it a habit, though for these two I might let him.

Sadie was happy to see us but clearly exhausted, and the fried chicken wasn’t getting any hotter, so we left them to it and I retook the driver’s seat.

We barely hit the highway when Kess turned to me. I braced for whatever he had to say.

“Do you like Southern food?” he asked.

I blinked and looked over at him.

“The road, Rowdy,” he said, pointing ahead of us.

I refocused and steered back into my lane. “Uh, yeah?”

“Excellent. Let’s go to Fixe since we’ll be passing downtown.”

“I’ve never heard of that place.”

“No worries, I’ll show you how to get there.”

I don’t know why my brain immediately went to the bedroom, but it did . I wouldn’t mind Kess showing me how to get there.

God, I was ridiculous.

We drove in silence to downtown, where he directed me to the parking garage behind the restaurant. We got out of the truck and I took a moment to take my hair down, using the window as a mirror to shake out the tangles.

Kess appeared behind me in the reflection, and I froze.

Slowly—and nervous as hell—I turned to face him. I didn’t know what to think of his stern expression, nor could I manage anything witty given my earlier confession, so I put my hands on my hips and added as much sass as I could muster.

“ Yes ?” I asked, then cursed under my breath because it’d come out all soft and needy.

His hands went to my face, warm and sure, and the flint in his eyes softened. I sucked in a breath, shocked by the wattage of his gaze.

“You have such pretty hair,” he murmured, his eyes following the mussed waves from my roots to the ends that brushed my shoulders.

Removing my hands from my hips, I grabbed his wrists. I didn’t know why I’d done that, save for the fact that I had to hold on to something, and I couldn’t think of anything more solid than Kess.

“Rowdy?”

“Yes?”

Fan-fucking-tastic. This yes sounded even needier than the first one.

He shifted his thumb over to swipe my bottom lip and I swayed.

“You are quite the conundrum.”

“I am?”

“Mm.” He pressed his nose to my temple and inhaled. “I have so many questions, but the only one I need the answer to right now is—can I kiss you?”

“Oh.” Fuck, his scent—faded cologne, trailer park dust, and him—was sending all of my systems through the goddamned roof. “Yes?”

“You don’t sound so sure. Do I need to back off?”

“Yes. I mean no.” A chuckle rumbled deep in his chest and I gave him my best glare. “I meant no, don’t back off and yes, please fucking kiss me.”

He stopped laughing, his expression suddenly as sober as a judge’s. He leaned in, brushing his lips against mine. I wanted more—so much more—but he pulled away from the barely-there kiss. Still holding my face in his hands, he nosed my eyelashes.

My chest rose and fell dramatically, and my heart was about to burst through my rib cage, but my brain had gone all smooth-like. No thoughts. No words. Just...him. Touching me like I was his and looking at me like I was a miracle.

He laid a trail of gentle kisses across my cheekbones before grazing the shell of my ear with his lips.

“Actually, let’s go with questions first,” he whispered.

I let out an involuntary groan, then pulled out of his hold and crossed my arms over my chest. He imitated the move with a smile that was at once maddening and the sexiest thing I’d ever seen in my life.

I refused on principle to ask for him to kiss me again, but God, he made me desperate.

“Question number one: Are you or are you not a dirty little liar?” he asked, sounding every bit the lawyer.

I opened my mouth, then closed it. Then got mad and opened it again. “No one is owed my sexuality.”

He tsked , wiggling his finger at me. “There’s a difference between keeping quiet about something and actively lying, wouldn’t you agree?”

Did he just move in closer?

“So what?” I shot back, trying not to drown in the way his eyes held on to mine and wouldn’t let go. “So I lied. What of it?”

“Those lies led me to going faster than I should’ve. I scared you.”

“Hey!” I protested. “I wasn’t scared!”

His answering look shaved a year off my life. “You froze up like a statue.”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s not my fault you made all of those assumptions and tried to jump right into worshipping this tight fucking hole ,” I said, throwing his words back at him.

“Question two?—”

I let out a sound of protest. “This is not a court of law, counselor. And I did not sign up to be cross-examined.”

“A, I’m not that kind of lawyer, and B”—he leaned in with his arms still crossed—“you will answer my questions, or else.”

Kess’s words sent a shiver down my spine, but I wrangled myself.

“Or else what ?” I asked, standing toe to toe with him, forced by our proximity to tilt my head back.

His grin was fucking feral. And, now that I was this close to him, it didn’t help that his canines were just a hair longer than the rest of his teeth and that I had a minor vampire fetish.

“ Or else you’ll never see how good it can be when I stop assuming and take my time.”

“Jesus,” I breathed, overwhelmed with images of what it’d look like for a careful man like him to take his time with me. My knees nearly gave out.

“The name’s Kessler, actually.”

I dropped my chin. “Fuck. Just ask your damned questions.”

“Question two,” he started, ignoring my scowl. “You didn’t want to admit to being demisexual in front of me, did you?”

Shit.

“No. I didn’t.”

“But you did it because it was what Jaxon needed to hear.”

I stared at my feet and nodded. Kess’s blunt fingers touched my chin, delicately directing my eyes to his.

“Question three: true or false,” he said, pushing a rogue lock of hair behind my ear. “I did scare you the night of my housewarming.”

Goddammit.

I squeezed my eyes shut. “True.”

“Open your eyes, Rowd.”

I did as he requested, surprised by the warmth in his shrewd expression. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice like soft velvet. “Can I assume it was the automatic expectation of sex that scared you, and not the kissing?”

How did he know that about me?

I drew in a ragged breath. “Yes.”

He hummed in response, then placed his large hands on my shoulders and began massaging them.

“Final question. If I wanted to kiss you, and only kiss you, then take you on a date—not dinner between friends, but a proper date—to one of my favorite restaurants, would that be acceptable?”

I licked my lips. “You already have me here, so...”

“Answer the question, Rowdy.”

I let out a huff of air. “Yes. I’d...I’d like that. A lot.”

“Good.”