by Elin Peer
“You do what?”
She whisper-shouted it. “I snore.”
“Oh.”
“Not all the time but enough that he threw it in my face when we broke up.”
“And you don’t think a man can handle you because of that?”
“It’s not very sexy, is it?” She looked around. “And I have this thing that drove him crazy…”
“Don’t tell me you crack your fingers. That would drive me crazy too.”
“No, but I get excited and I interrupt.”
“You haven’t interrupted me.”
“Yet. It’s something I’m working on, but give me long enough and I will.”
I crossed my arms. “I feel like I showed you a big six-foot-seven skeleton and you’re showing me these kid ones.”
“Hey, snoring and interrupting aren’t attractive traits in a person.”
“Sure, but you’ve got to have something worse than that. I’ve got twenty years of extensive therapy for all sorts of shitty disorders like OCD and ADHD, and my Asperger’s alone counts for a whole regiment of skeletons.”
“Why? Isn’t Asperger’s that thing that make people clever, like Rain Man? I’ll bet you were a straight A student.”
“I was, but being autistic is no joke, Liv.”
“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” She looked down.
“It’s hard for me to show my emotions and I can’t always read people. Sometimes I come across as insensitive and arrogant without wanting to.”
“Can I ask you something?”
I nodded.
“You say it’s hard for you to show emotions, but do you still have as wide a range as other people?”
Looking around at the other guests in the restaurant, I thought about it. “That’s hard for me to know, isn’t it? Can you say if you have a wider range of emotions than the people at that table, or that one? How do you measure something like that? We Aspies are all different and I’m on the lighter end of the spectrum. I feel anger, sadness, empathy, and frustration just like other people, but it’s my ability to express those emotions that can be hard at times. There’ve been situations where people have called me cold and uncaring, but it wasn’t that I didn’t feel. I just couldn’t be there for them.”
Liv took it all in. “Wow.” She breathed. “That’s a big skeleton to have in a relationship.”
I picked a cherry tomato from my plate and popped it in my mouth. “Compared to your puny ones, it is.”
We returned to eating a bit more. “I do have one big thing that is very private.”
Lifting my gaze to watch her, I waited for her to go on.
“It’s kind of a fetish really.”
“A sexual fetish?” My back straightened with interest.
“Yes. But it’s only something I would ever discuss with a lover I trust.”
“But it’s a skeleton?”
She tilted her head from side to side. “It’s something that can be either a turn-on or turn-off.”
“What is it?”
Liv smiled. “If you ever become my lover and we grow to have complete trust, I’ll tell you.”
My napkin lifted in my lap from the mere thought of being her lover.
“If your fetish turns me off, you don’t want me as your lover to begin with.”
“I suppose you’re right about that. My sister says there’s someone for all of us, but apparently, my man is playing some lame game of hide and seek because I can’t find him anywhere.”
My fingers tapped against my glass. “And are you looking to settle down?”
“Yeah, I am. I’ll be twenty-seven next, and I want the dream. The partnership and the family.” She shrugged. “You?”
“I…” I thought about it. “I’ve been so focused on my career that it’s only recently that I’m starting to reflect on my dreams. Conor helped me with that, and if I’m honest, I’d love to be in a committed relationship if it was with the right woman.”
“And you thought Sara was that person?”
“Mmm, there was a spark of hope for sure… but let’s get back to your fetish. You can trust me, you know. I’m good at keeping secrets.”
She took a large gulp of her water and thought about it before she shook her head. “For a moment there, I was tempted to tell you. It’s weird. I can’t figure out what it is about you, Charles, but you do funny things to my sanity.”
I felt flattered by her words and wanted to push her and get more details, but knowing that I had a tendency to overstep people’s boundaries, I let it go… for now.
“How long are you staying in Dublin?”
Liv lowered the slice of pizza that she’d been about to bite into. “I’m not sure. This trip was spontaneous and I just bought a one-way ticket to Europe. Dublin happened to be the cheapest flight, so I’m starting here before I move on.” She bent down, rummaged through her bag, and picked out a handwritten note. “I made this list on my way across the Atlantic.”
I took the list she handed to me and read aloud.
“Edinburgh, Liverpool, London, Copenhagen, Amsterdam, Rome, Paris, Oslo, Vienna, Athens. Wow, how long do you have? You realize that these cities are in a lot of different countries, right?”
“Yes, I know. I was studying a map when I wrote them down.”
“I thought you said that you worked for an NGO. Are they fine with you staying away for weeks?”
“We made an arrangement before I left. I can work remotely.”
“Good for you.”
She pushed her plate toward me. “You want some pizza?” Three of the six slices were left and I took one.
“How long have you been here?” she asked.
“About five months.”
“And have you done all the touristy things?”
“I’ve been to Temple Bar, the factory where they brew Guinness beer, and a few whiskey distilleries. I rented a car and drove around to meet the few family members I have on my mother’s side, but that’s about it. The rest of the time, I’ve been working and getting to know people here.”
She pulled a few brochures out of her handbag. “There’s this day trip to the cliffs of Moher that I’d love to go on. There’s a stop in a medieval town and at an old abbey that’s now a ruin. Wanna come?”
“I would have thought you’d go for a full day tour of Irish castles.”
She looked up from the brochure. “Oh, that sounds fun. We could do that too if you want.”
The thought of spending hours in Liv’s company was tempting. “You really want me to come?”
“A hundred percent.”
I studied the brochure when she handed it to me. “I’ve been to Galway, the medieval town you mentioned. It’s a cool place.”
“We could go tomorrow if you want.”
“Tomorrow is Saturday. I have a meeting.” My head was spinning to find a way to go with her.
Her face fell. “You have a meeting on the weekends?”
“In the mastermind group. It’s very informal and social, so I guess I could be a bit late. How long is the tour?”
“Fourteen hours.”
I turned the brochure around. “Departure is at 6:45 in the morning. That’s early!”
“But I’ll bet it’ll be fun, and if you’re sleepy I’ll let you drool on my shoulder.” Liv gave me her brightest smile. “Please, Charles, you’re my only friend in Ireland.”
That did it. There was no way I could resist her. “All right. I’ll go with you to the cliffs of Moher, on one condition.”
Her eyes were wide and her smile still bright as I had her full attention.
“You’ll tell me your fetish right now or I won’t get a minute of sleep, just thinking about it.”
“No. I want you to come tomorrow.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Is your fetish so disgusting that I wouldn’t want to sit next to you on a bus?”
“Depends how you feel about it. You may never be able to look at me the same again.”
<
br /> “It’s urine sex, isn’t it?” I grinned.
“No.”
“Is it worse? Don’t tell me you like to play with excrement, is that it?”
“Nope.”
Tilting my head, I tried to sort through the long list of fetishes running through my mind. “You like to lick feet?”
“Nooo.”
“Anuses?”
She couldn’t keep a straight face. “I’m not telling you until you show up and the bus is at least an hour away from Dublin.”
“It’s anuses or you would have denied it when I asked.”
“Maybe.” She grinned. “Would that disgust you?”
I scratched my neck. “Depends how much soap and water was involved.”
Liv pulled a wallet from her handbag when the waiter brought the bill to our table. “How much do I owe for the pizza?”
I snatched the bill. “Nothing, I’ve got it.”
“I’m happy to split it.”
Ignoring her, I left money and stood up. “I need your number so we can coordinate.”
Liv was getting up too and reached out her palm. “If you give me your cell phone, I’ll put in my number.”
“Here.”
When she returned it, I had a number on my phone with a contact name saying, “The cute coffee thief.”
“Text me so I have your number.”
Shooting her a quick text, I wrote. “To the girl who likes to lick rectums. Can’t wait for our trip tomorrow. Good thing I’ll be sitting down so I won’t tempt you.”
Liv read it and with a smile on her lips, and a raised eyebrow, she texted back to me. “Whatever, Rain Man.”
I grinned. “You don’t play nice, do you?”
“Sometimes. Why? Am I being too hard on you?”
“No, I’m a big boy. I can handle it.”
Humor played in her eyes. “We’ll see about that.”
My confidence had grown a lot over these five years since I’d first met her, but the strong sensual energy that pulsed between us still made me unsure.
Am I misreading her?
Is she just being friendly?
It felt like she was flirting with me, but I had misinterpreted social situations before and decided to go slow. “See you tomorrow morning then.”
“Yes, I’ll book the tickets tonight and text you.” She opened her arms for a hug and I reciprocated albeit a little stiffly.
“See you later, Liv.”
“Yup. Bright and early for a full day of adventure. I can’t wait.”
CHAPTER 4
Late Night Texts
Charles
I was reading a book that Conor had recommended to me when my phone buzzed. It was a little past ten and I yawned.
Liv: Got the tickets. Departure point is outside Dublin City Gallery at 6:45. Be there at 6:30. The tickets are fifty dollars.
Charles: I’m afraid I don’t have any dollars. Will Euros work?
Liv: Yes. Bring a warm jacket. The weather can be changeable out on the cliffs. Prepare for rain and wind.
Charles: Yes, mom.
Liv: You’re welcome, son. Now be a good boy and go to bed. You have a day full of adventures tomorrow.
I chuckled at her tone. Liv was three years younger than me and I wasn’t used to anyone speaking to me the way she did.
Charles: I might be a rebel and stay up late.
Liv: As long as you’re not a grumpy ass tomorrow morning.
Charles: Was that another hint? Your fixation with asses is alarming.
Liv: Alarming or intriguing? I’m starting to think back-door sex is a turn-on for you. Are you hoping I’ll lean in tomorrow and whisper that my fetish is to lick butt?
I was grinning from ear to ear and texting as fast as I could.
Charles: I could take it off my bucket list if you did. It would be a first to meet a butt fetishist for sure.
Liv: Prepare for a lot of firsts tomorrow.
Her text made my heart rate pick up. Liv was definitely flirting with me and there had been amazing chemistry between us today at lunch. From the first time I’d met Liv, she had stood out to me. My mentor Conor had told me that with his teachings, I’d be able to attract anything I’d ever wanted in life. Maybe he was right.
Back when I’d met Liv five years ago, I’d been too introverted to make a real connection, but I’d grown more assertive over time and these past months, with the help of my mastermind group, my confidence had skyrocketed.
Liv would only be in Dublin for a few days, which meant that I wouldn’t have time to go slow. This was my chance to see if there was a reason for the breathtaking energy that I’d felt between us from day one.
I wrote a few answers and deleted them all. My fingers were tingling to take this correspondence up a notch. It couldn’t be a coincidence that the one woman whom I’d never gotten out of my head was here. It had to be a reward from the universe for all the hard work I’d done.
Pushing my luck, I wrote:
Charles: My eyes are wide open now. What kind of firsts are we talking about? Sex on a bus, a cliff, in Galway, what?
I kept staring at my phone waiting for her answer.
Liv: Whoa, whoa, I’m talking about our first time visiting the Cliffs of Moher and Kilmacduagh Abbey.
My face fell.
Charles: Oh.
Tics made me wink and my nose wrinkled up as I added: Awkward.
Her answer came fast and I had to read it twice to let it sink in.
Liv: Nahh, I’m flattered. I used to think you were the hottest guy at Harvard. Did you know that?
Was she serious? I had been told I was handsome before, but mostly by older women who were all married.
Liv was naturally beautiful and so outgoing that she could have any man she wanted. What was I supposed to write back? I tried a bit of humor.
Charles: Is that why you licked at my coffee cup?
Liv: Duh… what else do you do when you find someone attractive?
I laughed. Geez, she was cute and I couldn’t stop smiling.
Charles: If I’d asked you out that day, would you have said yes?”
My heart was beating fast in my chest. There was a real chance of her rejecting me. I’d taken a risk by bringing it up.
Liv: Sure, and then I would have squealed a little.
Charles: Good thing I didn’t then. I hate squealing girls.
Liv: See, I told you I’m too much to handle. The mere mention of a squeal and you’re running.
Charles: Not running, just writing ear plugs on my grocery list.
Liv: Promise you’ll be there tomorrow.
I felt feather light inside. I had dreamed about Liv and now she was flirting with me. Problem was, I had no experience flirting and every answer I tried to write, I deleted again because I sounded lame or too desperate. Finally, after beating myself up for at least ten minutes for not being able to produce a simple answer, I fell back on what Conor had taught me about never limiting myself and so I reached for the stars.
Charles: It’s a date!
I kept looking at the phone for her answer, but it remained silent.
Charles: Liv?
Dammit! Had I misread her signals?
Charles: It doesn’t have to be a date.
Charles: Did you fall asleep or are you the one running now?
Charles: Okay, either your phone died, you fell asleep, or I’m going to show up to a bus full of tourists and be the only American because you got cold feet.
CHAPTER 5
Bus Trip
Liv
I was already there when the large tour bus arrived at 6:15 a.m. The driver parked and the guide opened the door to smile at me. “Ah, an early bird, are ye?”
“No. Just still on American time, and to be honest, I get motion sick, so I figured I’d secure seats up front.”
“Good thing you came early then. The bus fills up fast.”
Getting out of the bus, the female guide brought out her list of name
s. “Let’s get you crossed off, shall we?”
“Liv and Charles.”
“All right.” She smiled and nodded to the bus. “You get first pick.”
I chose the first row, which would allow us the best view, and then I found my phone and went over messages.
It was sweet how Charles had written me after I fell asleep; I was just about to answer him when an incoming call from Mr. Robertson made me sit up straighter before answering. “Hello?”
“Liv, I got your email. Can you talk?”
“Yes. I’m on the bus, waiting for Charles.”
A family of four Dutch-speaking tourists came in and took the two first rows on the other side of the aisle. I turned in my seat toward the window, listening to Mr. Robertson.
“So, you’re convinced that Charles thought it was a chance meeting?”
“Yes, your contact gave me his whereabouts and I saw him mix in with a guided tour group. It was easy to do the same and make it seem random. It all worked out.
“How is he?”
“He seems fine. A few times he mentioned his mentor, but nothing concrete. I’m hoping to get more out of him today.”
Mr. Robertson cleared his throat and coughed. “Forgive me, this damn cough won’t go away. I’m impressed with your idea of a day trip. If you can, give me an update when you get back to the hotel tonight.”
“Thank you, sir. It’s good to see Charles again.”
“That’s nice.” Mr. Robertson coughed again and I held the phone out a bit, nodding back greetings to some of the people entering the bus.
“Are you okay, sir?”
“Yes, yes. We’ll talk later, and don’t forget to keep me posted.” As he hung up, I returned to my messages to answer Charles’ text from last night, but just as I was about to press send, a deep male voice with a distinct American accent made me turn my head to look out the window.
