by Witt, L. A.
“It’s gonna get expensive,” she’d told me a few months ago. “Buckle up.”
So it begins.
“Have you ever seen a real cod, Tariq?” Brennan held up a piece of fish. “Because they’re a lot prettier like this than when they’re in the water.”
“Really?” Tariq eyed him uncertainly, as if he wasn’t sure if Brennan was yanking his chain. “Have you ever seen one in real life?”
Brennan nodded. “My brother caught one while we were out fishing. I’m surprised that thing didn’t bite somebody. It was nasty.”
Tariq blinked. Then he picked up a piece of cod and drowned it in tartar sauce. “They’re ugly, but they taste good.”
“Yes, they do.” Brennan started to say something else, but Tariq suddenly pointed past him at the window.
“Look! That’s Ari!”
Brennan twisted around, and I craned my neck. In front of the restaurant, a couple of guys walked past, oblivious to us.
“Who is that again?” Brennan asked.
“Ari Valentine,” Tariq said. “He’s on Wolf’s Landing.”
I arched an eyebrow. “How do you know who’s who on Wolf’s Landing?”
“Um . . .” His cheeks turned bright red.
I tried to scowl, but the sheepish look made me laugh. Rolling my eyes, I reached for my drink. “Okay, if you’re going to watch it, maybe we should watch it together. So I at least know what’s going on.”
“But then we’ll have to DVR like two seasons before you have time to watch it with me.”
Ouch . . .
“You know . . .” Brennan cleared his throat. “Some of the techs and stunt guys from the show come to the skate shop. That’s um . . .” Brennan gestured at Tariq. “That’s why we had that stuff we put your tooth in. Most people have never heard of it, but the stunt guys swear by it.”
“Well, I’m glad you had it,” I said.
“Yeah,” he said, a hint of shyness creeping into his voice, “me too.”
And I was glad for the subject change, because Tariq seemed to forget about how little time I’d have to watch Wolf’s Landing with him.
“Have you met them?” he asked Brennan. “The stunt guys?”
Brennan nodded. “Some of them.”
“Do the actors skate?”
“Not many of them. I think the people running the show would get mad if one of them lost a tooth or something.”
Tariq laughed. “They’re wimps.”
“Right?” Brennan sighed dramatically. “It’s a tooth. I know a kid who had a tooth busted out, and was ready to skate the next day.”
Tariq grinned.
I just chuckled and shook my head.
* * *
After dinner, we made our way to the movie theater.
In the auditorium, Tariq sat between us with a bucket of popcorn that was almost as big as he was. I didn’t bother reminding him he’d just eaten.
Guess I should start putting money away to feed him when he’s a teenager.
A few minutes after we’d sat down, the previews started, and it quickly became obvious that Brennan and Tariq had adorably similar taste in movies. The minute the screen lit up with explosions and slow-motion car chases, they were both on the edge of their seats, wide-eyed and slack-jawed. Then the next preview came along, trying to psych us up for a moody historical movie about . . . hell, I didn’t know. I wasn’t paying any more attention than they were because boring.
“Yawn,” Brennan grumbled just loud enough for us to hear. “Aliens in the next five seconds, or I’m not going.”
Tariq snorted. “If aliens landed there, they’d die of boredom.”
Brennan and I both smothered laughs.
The painfully uninteresting preview finally ended, and the screen was once again alive with explosions and action sequences.
“I am so there,” Brennan said to Tariq.
“Me too.” Tariq looked at me, eyebrows up as if to ask, Right?
“Obviously,” I said. “Though Brennan and I might have to go see it first. Make sure it’s—”
“Dad.” He rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically.
Brennan and I exchanged glances, and both chuckled.
The previews continued, and after about nine hundred of them, the movie started. Tariq was engrossed. So was Brennan.
Me? I had three or four brain cells following the movie, but the rest were focused on the two people beside me.
This was unnervingly familiar. Megan and I had taken Tariq out like this a number of times when we both had a night off. We’d all enjoyed it. I’d assumed things would stay that way, but they hadn’t. Megan had left. Tariq had gotten hurt. So had I, but it was my choice to get involved with her. Tariq had been along for the ride whether he liked it or not, and when it was over . . .
I cringed, trying like hell to focus on the movie but failing miserably.
When I was alone, analyzing all of this from a distance, it was easy to say Brennan and I should be friends, and that I could keep us that way. It would be simpler, and less risky, and less stressful for my kid if things didn’t work out.
But when we were in the same room, when I was constantly aware of his presence—even in my peripheral vision in the darkness of a movie theater—it wasn’t so easy. I had no idea what we were doing. All I knew was that I liked it. If I was honest with myself, the only thing I would’ve changed was introducing him to Tariq so soon. If I’d thought this might turn into something more than friendship, I’d have kept them apart until I figured out what that something was. And if it had any staying power.
Because I was lying if I said I didn’t want it to have staying power.
I glanced at Brennan, and swallowed. The truth was, wishful thinking or not, no one had given me butterflies like this since my ex-fiancée. I couldn’t have not fallen in love with her if I’d tried.
So what made me think I could avoid it with Brennan?
Chapter 17
Brennan
That Sunday, Zafir and I headed to Seattle to try that asexual group again. We decided to take the Kingston Ferry, and thanks to Murphy’s Law, we got there just in time to watch the boat pull away. The next one didn’t leave for almost an hour.
Zafir parked in line and shut off the car. “We’ve got some time to kill. You want to go down to the beach or something?”
I shrugged. “Sure.”
A path led from the ferry holding area down the seawall and to the beach, which was about thirty feet below the lot. We followed it down and walked in silence for a little while. The beach was deserted except for us. We wandered along the tide line, sand-covered rocks crunching beneath our shoes.
I kept an eye on the water. When the ferry came into view we’d have to head back up, but for now all I could see were some seagulls, a few small boats, and a black-topped red freighter in the distance. So we had time.
We had time, and we were on a damn beach, and I was with Zafir . . . and I couldn’t relax. From the minute he’d picked me up this morning, I’d been a nervous wreck. All I could think about was everything that had kept me up the other night. What was this? What were we doing?
“You’ve been kind of quiet today.” His voice startled me.
I stared at the rocks beneath our feet. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. I just . . . Are you okay?”
I don’t know. I have no idea what’s going on. Or why everything feels different when we’re together.
I stopped. So did he.
For a long moment, I stared out at the water, not sure if I was hoping to see the ferry, or if I wanted it to wait a few more minutes.
“Brennan?” he quietly prodded.
I took a deep breath. “I guess . . .” My stomach twisted itself into somersaulting knots. I had no idea how to say this. What I even wanted to say.
Zafir’s hand moved, and I turned as he tucked a few strands of black hair behind his ear. He was still watching me, squinting a little against the salty wind, his expr
ession offering absolutely nothing.
And before I could stop myself, I blurted out, “Why does it feel like we’re dating?”
Zafir didn’t even flinch. “Maybe we are.”
My breath caught. “What?”
“Maybe we are.” He shrugged. “I’ve kind of been wondering the same thing, to be honest.”
Blood pounded in my ears. “So . . . what do we do?”
“Do we have to do anything?” That gentle smile nearly turned me inside out. “Do you want to change anything we’ve been doing?”
“No.” The answer was effortless. No hesitation whatsoever. But it also spawned a million new questions that were suddenly banging around inside my skull. “I guess I’m just confused. I mean . . .” I swallowed hard. Somehow, I managed to look him in the eye as I whispered, “Where does it stop being friendship and become a relationship?”
“Wherever we decide it does. I mean, remember what we talked about—sex isn’t the only thing that defines a relationship, right?”
“Okay. True. But I guess I’m confused about what does define one.”
“Well . . .” Zafir stepped closer, right into my comfort zone, but I didn’t back away, not even when his eyes flicked toward my lips, then back up to meet mine. “The only people whose opinions matter are yours and mine. So, it’s however we want to define it.”
“Kind of . . .” Slow down, heart. Seriously. “Kind of wondering how much control we have over it.”
Zafir smiled. No—he grinned. “Some things do happen on their own. But we can control if we step on the gas or the brakes.”
Why do I feel like I’m stomping on both right now?
He broke eye contact, and though he didn’t step back, his cheeks darkened. Laughing softly, he looked out at the water.
“What?” I asked.
“I, um . . .” His Adam’s apple jumped. Then he met my gaze again. “I’m trying like hell to reassure you that we can call the shots here, but the only thing I can think of is—” He hesitated. So soft I could barely hear him, he said, “Is how much I really want to kiss you right now.”
Goose bumps shot up all over my skin. “Really?”
Nodding, he dropped his gaze again.
“That isn’t weird? For . . . uh . . .”
“For asexuals to kiss?”
“Yeah.”
He looked at me again and smiled. “Does it matter?” Arching an eyebrow, he added, “Especially since you’re apparently more worried about whether asexuals should kiss than whether we should?”
“What? No, I’m—” Curious. The word you’re looking for is curious. “I guess . . . no. I guess it doesn’t matter.”
“And who says it’s sexual? It’s just affection.” He ran his hand up my forearm. “People can touch without it having anything to do with sex.”
But why does it feel so different when you touch me versus when other people do?
I had no idea what to say. Or how to speak, really. Standing this close to him, knowing what was on the table, with curiosity inching past nervousness—I was lucky I could breathe.
Zafir’s weight shifted, and rocks and sand crunched as he stepped a little closer. His shirt was a light breeze away from touching mine. He lifted his hand off my forearm, and I held my breath. Even before his fingers moved into my peripheral vision, I knew what was coming.
Eyes locked on mine, he touched my face. My heart was going impossibly fast now. I was vaguely aware that we were out in public, and someone might lean over the guardrail above and see us, but I didn’t care.
His hand slid around to the back of my neck, and with the faintest pressure from his fingertips, he drew me toward him.
Our lips met.
And everything . . . faded.
The ocean was suddenly a million miles away. The seagulls were distant background noise. There were people and cars, but my senses were too busy exploring the softness of his lips. His stubbled chin hissed across mine, driving home that I was kissing a man for the first time in my life. That I was kissing Zafir. And I liked it.
Slowly, I wrapped my arms around him. Nothing about this felt as weird as I thought it should. It was . . . God, it was perfect.
He broke the kiss and our eyes met.
“Wow,” I breathed.
“Yeah. Wow.” He searched my eyes. “Does that turn you on?”
I swept my tongue across my lips. “It, um . . . not really, no.”
Zafir’s brow knitted, and he sounded more nervous than I’d ever heard him when he whispered, “But did you like it?”
“I—” My heart thumped against my ribs, and I caught myself missing the softness of his lips against mine. This didn’t make any sense, but . . . “Yeah. I did like it.”
So I pulled him back to me and kissed him again.
Chapter 18
Zafir
It was Brennan who broke away this time, and I shivered as we pulled apart. I’d been wanting to kiss him for a while now, and he hadn’t disappointed.
His eyes flicked toward the water. “Damn.” He scowled. “Here comes the boat.”
No!
I turned, and sure enough, the green-and-white vessel was on its way toward the dock. We still had a little time, but not much.
Looking up at him again, I said, “I guess we should go back to the car.”
Brennan nodded.
Damn it. The moment had barely started, and now it was over. Way too soon. But maybe he needed that. Maybe we both did. Test the water, then back off and decide if it was okay.
He cleared his throat. “We still have a minute or so, right?”
“Yeah.” I glanced at the boat. “They still have to unload, and—”
He cupped my face and kissed me. When he broke away this time, he grinned. “That’s all the extra time I needed.”
I swallowed. “Oh. Okay.”
His grin fell, and his forehead creased. “You don’t mind . . . um . . .”
“Of course not.” I laughed to make my lungs work again. “I started it, right?”
“Well, true. But . . .” He chewed his lip, staring at the rocks beneath our feet.
“Relax.” I touched his arm. “We probably should get back to the car, though.”
Brennan nodded. In silence, we hurried up the path and across the parking lot. The ferry was just pulling into the slip as we got in my car. Now I kind of regretted coming back so quickly—we could’ve stolen at least two or three more minutes—but it was better like this. No point in having to scramble to the car while the people behind us gave us dirty looks.
After the ferry had docked and unloaded, a worker in an orange vest directed us to start loading. We were one of the first to load, fortunately, so we didn’t have to wait long.
On the boat, I pulled up behind the car in front of me, parked, and killed the engine. “So, do you want to stay here or go up on deck?”
Brennan looked right at me and slid his hand over the top of mine on the console. “I think I’d rather stay here.”
My heart sped up. “Yeah. Yeah, we can . . . we can do that.”
He smiled, but broke eye contact. With his hand over mine, we both stared out the windshield for the longest time. Even as the ferry pushed off and the usual recorded safety message played on the loudspeaker, we didn’t talk. We didn’t look at each other.
The silence was going to drive me crazy, though, so I finally cleared my throat. “That’s . . . What happened on the beach—it’s not going to make things weird, is it?”
Brennan laughed softly. Almost shyly. “This has been weird from day one, but . . .” He met my gaze, and yes, there was definitely some shyness in his eyes. “Weird isn’t necessarily bad, is it?”
I shook my head. “Of course not. But it’s not . . . like, awkward?”
“No.” He paused. “Right?”
“It’s not awkward for me.”
“Good.” He exhaled. “I guess it’s just new.” With a hint of a smirk, he added, “Is it weird for me to
have my first kiss with a guy on my way to an asexual group?”
I laughed. “Seems kind of poetic in a way.”
“Yeah, I guess it does.” He chuckled as he slipped his fingers between mine. “And this doesn’t mean we’ll get our asexual cards revoked?”
“Just don’t tell anyone,” I said in a stage whisper. “Can’t be too careful.”
Our eyes met, and we both burst out laughing.
“To be serious, no.” I brought his hand up and kissed the backs of his fingers. “There’s nothing in the rule book that says physical affection is off the table.”
“Wait, so there’s a rule book? Do I get one of those tonight?”
“Nope.” I lowered our hands to the console. “You have to recruit three more people.”
“Oh. Well shit.”
“It’s not as hard as it sounds. You’re actually my twelfth recruit.”
“Really?” He furrowed his brow. “So, do you get, like, a toaster or something?”
I snorted. “Please. The toaster is your seventh recruit. After twelve, I’m getting a mystery box.”
“A mystery box? That could be bad.”
“Nah.” I waved a hand. “Friend of mine got it last year and said it’s just a couple of movie tickets and a free tub of popcorn.”
“You’d think they’d make it a gag gift or something. You know, like a box of condoms and a stack of porn.”
I snickered. “I wouldn’t put that past these guys.”
“Sounds like my kind of crowd.”
“Uh-huh. Thought so.”
The city of Edmonds was coming into view, so people were slowly returning to their cars. It would still be a few minutes before we docked, though, so I didn’t start the engine yet.
Brennan ran his thumb alongside my hand. “So what about Tariq?”
I stiffened. “What about him?”
“I mean, do we tell him? That we’re . . . uh . . .”
“He already knows, actually.”
Brennan’s eyebrows quirked. “Come again?”
“He’s . . .” I laughed, looking out at the water. “He’s kind of the reason I’ve been thinking about this a lot. He asked me a while back if you were my boyfriend.” I hesitated, then turned to him again. “And I didn’t quite know how to answer him.”
