There was quiet laughter, then Jordan cleared his throat. “I um… I’m still trying to figure this whole asexual thing out. I’m like, almost certain, I am. Asexual, that is.” He let out a breath and his eyes filled with tears. “Well, I did. I was sure I was. And I was with someone who means the world to me, and he’s said before—he’s been very clear about it—that he can only be emotionally invested with someone who is asexual, because it just got too complicated otherwise, and hearts always get broken. And I thought, great, because that’s what I am, right? I’m asexual. I don’t want to have sex with anyone. I don’t want to even think about having sex with someone. It kinda freaks me out and makes me uncomfortable. And everything with this guy was going great. Like really great. But then last night we were on his couch and I kissed him and we both like kissing. We’ve established that kissing is great and he can kiss like a motherfucker, you have no idea.” He put his hand to his forehead, his lip trembled and a tear rolled down his cheek. “But then my body… it wanted more, like you said; our bodies betray our minds. And I freaked out, and I left him. Because he only wants someone who’s asexual, and…”

I hadn’t even realised a tear had slipped down my cheek too. I scrubbed it away. “Did you want to have sex with him?”

Jordan looked at me like I was crazy. “What? No! God, no. I don’t want that. My mind doesn’t want that at all. But if my body did… Doesn’t that mean I’m not asexual?”

I shook my head. “Oh, Jordan. You’re as asexual as you need to be.”

He sobbed and put his hands in his face. “Oh motherfucking fuck. You must hate me.”

“How can I hate you?” I said, half laughing, half crying. “When I’m in love with you.”

Sabina gasped. Well, I think it was her, and all heads turned like they were watching a tennis match.

Jordan looked up at me, stunned. I shrugged and held my arms out and Jordan shot out of his chair and walked straight into my embrace. He sobbed against my neck and I held him as tight as he was holding onto me. Merry did some crying-clapping thing in her seat, and Angus raised both hands like he’d scored a goal in soccer. “Hell yes, that’s how it’s done!” he crowed.

Chapter Seventeen

Jordan