Chapters (28)
- Upside Down
- N.R. Walker
- Copyright
- Contents
- Blurb
- Upside Down
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- The Next Weekend
- Three Years Later
- About the Author
- Contact the Author
- Also by N.R. Walker
He frowned and spoke to his hands. “It’s just that things always start like this, and there’d be hand holding and kissing, and I’d say that’s all I want and they’d agree, but then they’d think kissing was just a tool for foreplay. Like no one can just kiss because they like it. It has to be a prelude to wanting more, and they’d always think I was playing hard to get, and then I’d have to say no, again, because how could anyone not want to have sex, right? And then they’d say, ‘But you like kissing, it’s not that different,’ but it really fucking is. Kissing and having sex aren’t mutually inclusive. Just because I want one doesn’t mean I want the other or have to partake in sex just because I want to enjoy kissing.” He took a breath. “And you kissed me and it was incredible. Like, seriously, it may have been the best kiss of all time and I was floating. Seriously. You have skills. But then habit snuck in and I thought for sure you’d ask for more and I didn’t want to have to say no to you because well, this has been the best date ever and I didn’t want to ruin it.”
I shook my head. There was quite a lot to unpack in that. I took his hand and waited until he looked into my eyes. “Okay, first things first, you saying no wouldn’t ruin anything. Don’t ever think you’re doing something wrong by saying no. Blame should fall on the person with the expectation that they are owed sex. Secondly, kissing is not the same thing as sex. Not even close, and if someone tries to guilt you into something you’re not comfortable with, then they’re a piece of shit and witches should put a hex on them so that every time they get a hard-on, they cry for their mummies.”
Jordan snorted. “If they don’t already.”
I laughed and the tension was now, thankfully, gone. I squeezed his hand. “Jordan, I don’t want to have sex with you.”
“Oh.” He jolted back, shocked, frowning and upset. His voice was quiet. “Is there something wrong with me?”
I would have laughed at that, except it really wasn’t funny. It was a very stark reminder that he was still coming to terms with his asexuality and that he had a lot of years of rejection and stereotypical demons to conquer yet.