12. Bennett

TWELVE

BENNETT

Of all the times I've told men I'm asexual over the years, crying has never been a reaction I had to deal with.

That's why I stay silent, staring at Luke as he seemingly becomes someone else.

No.

He becomes himself.

Well, that can't be right. Right?

He looks exactly the same, of course he does, but it's the way he's seeing that's different. The way his chest rises and falls is somehow more relaxed, even though it wasn't really agitated before.His fingers aren't twitching anymore, on his thigh or on my arm where they're still keeping the contact alive. Individually those things don't seem like much, but put them all together and they make a different picture.

He deflates, and looks stricken as he turns to gaze over his pool and garden. The garden where he also placed countless candles a few feet apart .

Damn, but this man knows how to plan a date. How to romance someone.

I don't know where I got the strength to stop him from kissing me when there hasn't been a kiss I've ever wanted more in my life.

The man who was sitting next to me five minutes ago was already the most attractive man I'd ever seen. He had been since I first saw him a year ago.

But the one he is now is... fuck, he just exudes confidence.

He's fucking magnificent.

I'm pretty sure his reaction isn't because of sadness, though, or because he doesn't want to kiss me anymore. The foolish, always hopeful part of my brain is one hundred percent sure that he's not put off by my asexuality.

No.

I'm pretty sure my asexuality has nothing to do with this.

Is this possible?

No, I tell myself.

I can't get ahead of myself. I have to let him tell me what he thinks about me now, and I have to believe him when he does.

Even though others have lied after hearing my truth, in retrospect, I know they were thinking they could change me, or use me sexually despite it.

So this time I'll pay attention. Just like I've been paying attention to every single change in Luke, I'll keep doing so.

Finally, after who knows how long, Luke turns to me, his cheeks wet with tears.

"Can you tell me about it?"

"I, uh. Sure." I nod and take a big sip of the amazing wine. This is good, this is good, this is good, I repeat in my head over and over. "So, just like sexual orientation, which is the gender or genders you're attracted to, sexuality is a spectrum. So there are people ranging from asexual, which is how I identify, to allosexual, which is people who can experience sexual attraction to any person they're physically attracted to—like most people, I guess."

Luke turns a bit more in his seat to look straight at me and I have to swallow hard at his serious and interested look. He's really focused on this, that's good. He nods for me to go on.

"There are a bunch of different labels within the spectrum, like people who only feel sexual attraction for those they have an emotional connection to, or only feel sexual attraction for those they don't know anything about."

"Really?" Luke looks stunned.

I nod about five times before I go on. "There are people who are repulsed by sex. People who sometimes want a lot of sex and other times none at all. People who can experience sexual attraction, and do on occasion, but still identify as asexual."

"Okay," Luke says as he releases a sharp breath. "Okay," he repeats, and shakes his head as if to clear it. "I'm sorry if asking is insensitive," he says with a sudden, urgent tone.

"It isn't. At all. There are a lot of people who don't know anything about asexuality."

"Yeah, I didn't know."

"You can ask me anything you want."

"When did you figure it out?" The eagerness in his question makes me give the hopeless idiot in my head some points. It seems like Luke is going to be taking this better than I ever thought possible.

"When I was around fifteen. I'd known I was gay for a few years by then, and my parents brought home a book one day about all the colors in the rainbow." I can't help but smile at the memory.

"They sound like amazing parents."

The longing in his words makes my heart ache for him, and if this goes any further and he meets my parents—officially—I have no doubt they'll not only love him, but they'll try to make up for his shitty draw of parents.

"They are," I agree with a nod. "I told them, without really even thinking about it, I'd liked boys since I was very little. I know how fortunate I am to have them in my life. Even if they're in their no-fucks-to-give, let's-sell-everything-and-move-to-Vegas era."

I get what I want. A smile gracing that perfect face, and even a chuckle as a bonus.

"In any case, they brought that book home for me—they often brought me books about all sorts of things, most of them fiction, so it wasn't really anything noteworthy—and I found the term asexuality there. The book must be outdated nowadays, but it was the first time I thought, ‘Hey, that could be me,' you know?"

"I do."

The question was harmless, even thoughtless, but he answers in a voice so full of emotion that I can't help but believe him.

He does know.

"I..." He trails off and looks away again. At the beautiful sight of everything he prepared for our first date.

And this is only our first date.

Every twitch, every frown, every shift of his body tells me Luke is being genuine.

That means there are more dates to come. I'm sure of it.

"I'm pretty sure I'm asexual too, actually." And I'm pretty sure he doesn't even hear my overdramatic intake of breath because he just keeps going. "I'm a virgin and I don't even feel a bit of shame about it. Or curiosity. I've tried. Way too many times to count, I've tried to have sex, but never because I wanted to. With women mostly but with men too. I just can't do it. It's caused some trouble." Now he does look at me with a sad smile. "With Robbie's mother mostly. She didn't take kindly to me backing out on prom night."

"Ah," I whisper. "That can be tough."

"It was. I felt like shit. I've felt like shit every time. But never for me. Not really. I don't think sex repulses me. I've seen porn and all I thought was, meh . I've seen sex scenes in movies and the same thing happened."

He stays quiet for a long time, and just like when I first told him, I realize I need to give him the space to think things through. To come to terms with this new reality.

"I feel like an idiot for not figuring it out before."

"No," I say sharply, and way too loudly probably. "It's not your fault. Most people have no idea what asexuality is. Most people who are asexual or know someone who is don't really talk about it. That's why I've told all my friends they can tell whoever they want about me. What you don't know is never your fault, Luke. Do you hear me?"

"I hear you," he whispers. Then he leans in again and my breath stalls.

He cups my face with his free hand and stops when the tips of our noses brush against each other.

"If it's okay with you, cutie, I'm gonna kiss you now. Okay?"

"Oka—"

He cuts me off mid-word with his lips pressing firmly, insistently against mine.

And of course, the kiss is perfect.

Everything about Luke is perfect, so why would this be any different?

Gentle but eager, soft but excited.

It's everything a first kiss should be, and it ends too soon. Right as I lift my hands to hold him close to me, Luke leans back .

"Is it all right if we eat dinner now?" he asks, casually but quietly.

How the fuck can he speak casually when his face is less than an inch apart from mine?

"Seriously?" I ask, then can't contain the snort.

"Yeah, cutie. I busted my ass makin' you dinner. I wanna see you enjoyin' it now."

Damn but that southern accent is cute as fuck.

"You're the cutie," I say, and lean in lightning fast to peck his lips, then away. I stand and take my wine glass. "Bring that charcuterie with you. That can be my dessert," I tell him without looking back.

I go right to the kitchen and put oven mitts on to bring out the foil covered tray of pot roast.

"This smells incredible, Luke."

"Oh there you go, spoiling my moment." I hear the laughter behind the words and smile as I turn to place the tray on the island. He'd already put heat protectors on the marble top so it doesn't get singed, and that's right where I place it. "I do hope you like it, cutie ." He slides up next to me and circles an arm around my waist, then leans in right as he emphasizes the pet name and kisses my cheek.

My body warms up with happiness.

It feels so good, so damn good, but...

"Are you sure you don't wanna talk more about?—"

"Nah." He interrupts with a decisive shake of his head. "I'm sure gonna ask you a million questions some other time, and I want to hear everything about it from your perspective, but my identity crisis can wait for a moment that's not our first date."

I smile and once more steal a quick kiss to his lips.

"I don't mind if we talk about it on our first date, but whatever you want works. Hmm," I murmur, and lean back to take a proper look at him. "I do have to say that I've always loved kissing, so this is off to a great start and also, I'll have to think of an equally cheesy pet name for you."

"It'll come to you," he says with a crooked grin. Another perfect one.

"Maybe Mr. Perfect? No." I answer before he can even start to shake his head. "You're right, it'll come to me. Now, let's eat. I'm ready for this."

"Great." He chuckles lightly. "I'll get this. Can you get the salad bowl from the fridge please?"

"Sure." I see him grab the monitor with Robbie's sleeping form on it and tuck it into the back pocket of his jeans. That's sweet.

We place everything on his massive dining table—okay, maybe not massive but I bet you can sit twenty people at it.

He pulls out the chair at the head of the table for me—another first in my dating history, and it feels damn nice.

"So, you're a proper southern gentleman, huh?" I ask when he sits down and we begin to fill our plates.

He snorts and shakes his head. "I can't say my momma raised me right like most folks do, but I think I learned it through osmosis or some shit like that."

I crack up. "Manners by osmosis, I like that." I take my first bite of the pot roast and have to stop and stare at Luke wide eyed as I taste heaven in my mouth.

Luke is doing the same, but with a knowing smile and crinkling eyes.

"It's good, huh?" he asks after he swallows.

"It really is." I immediately go back for more

"Don't sound so surprised, I'm twenty-eight. Been survivin' on my own for around a decade now." I know it's actually been more time than that, at least I think it has from everything he's told me, but I let it go. No need to bring the mood back down after the emotional shock Luke already had tonight.

His accent coming out more pronounced when he's teasing me is cute as hell though.

So I ask him about his plans for the weekend in LA, and listen to his delicious accent as he tells me about Rebecca, the sergeant-like child services employee that came by, and about Dorothea, the angel sent from above—by Gab—who will be going with them.

"Dorothea fell in love with Robbie, no doubt about it, but she did tell me that as soon as Gordon is living with us, she's going right back to retirement." He finishes and takes a deep breath.

"That seems fair, and more than generous. And what about Gordon? Any news there?"

Luke nods as he swallows his last bite. "Yeah, he's actually coming in just over two weeks. Thankfully, he'll be here a week before the rookie minicamp starts so we'll all have time to settle in and get a routine going. My chef's also coming back to work regularly in May, so that will help out too."

"I'm glad Robbie will have his grandpa close," is all I can think to say. He has a chef? Damn.

I can't even begin to imagine the complicated emotions Gordon must bring for Luke, and vice versa too, actually.

"Oh, it's gonna be awesome to have Gordon around for me too." Luke smiles widely at me as he rests his elbow on the table, with his chin on the palm of his hand, and he grabs his wine glass with the other. "I bet he'll like you. He'll say you're a straight shooter for sure."

"Uh." I hesitate. "I think I'm the opposite of straight."

I enjoy Luke's boom of laughter as I too grab the last bit of dinner and shove it into my mouth .

"You know what I mean," Luke demands.

"Yeah, I do," I agree and nod, smiling too. I can't help but smile. This feels... good. Like it really is just the beginning.

"I'm sure I'll like him if everything you've told me about him is true."

"I think so too."

Luke reaches over and grabs my hand, then brings it up to his lips and kisses the back of it tenderly as he looks me in the eyes.

I melt.

There's no other way to describe it. I just feel everything inside me melt for this man who went all out for our first date.

So I lean in and pucker my lips in invitation.

He gives me what I want, cupping my face as our lips touch, and then sliding his hand down to my nape as I open my lips in invitation. He takes the hint and his tongue slides softly and slowly against mine.

I love this, love feeling like I'm connecting so deeply with someone. Because kisses are a language, and they tell you everything you need to know about the person you're sharing them with if you pay attention.

Luke is patient, I think, and thoughtful.

He leans back an inch and kisses the corner of my mouth before settling back on his seat.

"Thanks for dinner," I murmur.

"The pleasure was all mine, cutie." A smile appears on my face. I'm pretty sure it's going to be the automatic response every time he calls me that.

"Let me help you clean up," I say, as I grab my plate and stand.

Luke stops me from grabbing the salad bowl lightning fast.

"Oh, no you don't, cutie. I asked you on this date, and I'm gonna clean everything up. "

"You cooked, so I should clean," I tell him, and tilt my chin up.

He grabs that chin with two fingers and kisses me soundly again. Damn, okay. I could get used to being kissed by Luke every other minute.

"Normally I'd say, heck yeah, thanks for the offer and let's both get to it. But this is our first date, so just let me take care of it, please?"

I sigh. "Okay."

"Thank you."

"I'm the one supposed to be thanking you. And I do need to get back home." I look down at my watch and see it's already eleven. "I need to get up extra early tomorrow to make Lizzie's lunch and get her ready for school."

"When can I see you again?" Luke asks immediately after I'm done.

I think about it and wince.

"You're coming back Monday night, right?" He nods. "And then the Draft is on Thursday until Sunday." Again Luke nods, though that wasn't a question. "How about the Monday after the Draft then?"

Luke's face falls. "But that's a week and a half away." I have to bite my lip to stop myself from laughing at his whine.

"I know, but you have work to do in LA, then I have to catch up with everything I haven't done the last few weeks because of the move, and work with Gab before she goes to her cave for the Draft. So the Monday after the Draft it is."

Luke sighs heavily but steps closer and wraps his arms loosely around my waist. "But we'll text in the meantime?"

"Of course we will." I go with my instinct and throw my arms around his shoulders and reach up to kiss him, slow and long. I technically am in a hurry, but not really. I simply want to enjoy being this close to Luke, the feel of his chest against mine, of his hands holding me close to him.

Best of all, I don't feel an erection.

That would be a terrible mood killer for me—ironic, I know. But the pressure, the uncertainty, would take me out of the moment.

Instead, I just get lost in the man I'm dating until my neck starts to hurt a little. It means it's time to go.

Without another word, Luke leads me out to my car, kisses me a handful more times, then I'm finally on my way back home.