Page 21 of On My Side (Quiblings #3)

Ren

Playlist: Hey Girl | Stephen Sanchez

“So,” I say.

“So,” Audrey responds.

Then silence.

“Oh my god,” she groans, burying her face in my Death Star throw pillow.

After we finally stopped laughing, we got to our feet. She told me she had to leave, and I told her we had to do aftercare. When she insisted she didn’t need it, I had the pleasure of admitting I need aftercare after physical intimacy with a partner.

We’re on opposite sides of my couch, Leia licking her ass between us, and Audrey’s face buried in a pillow, groaning loudly.

Suddenly, my cock is at attention again, because I’m fantasizing about Audrey’s face buried in the same pillow. Her making that same noise while I have her bent over the arm of the couch and—

“Can I go now?” I think that is what she says, but her voice is so muffled that the odds of her actually having said, “candlelit ghost,” are pretty high.

“What?” I ask, making sure she’s not asking after Casper.

She sighs and lowers the pillow from her face. “Can I go now?”

“I mean. If you’re going to make it clear you want to leave, you might as well.”

“Ugh, I’m sorry. It’s such a cliché, but I promise it’s not you, it’s me. Can I overshare with you? Maybe some light trauma dumping?”

I glance at her out of the corner of my eye. “Uh… sure?”

“I haven’t had sex in sixteen years,” she says before burying her face in the pillow and groaning once again.

I stare at her. “You… what?”

“You heard me,” she grumbles.

“I just… what? How?”

She lifts her face again and turns her neck to meet my eyes.

“Piper’s dad ended things moments after we conceived a child because he didn’t want to be ‘tied down’ in college.

Which was fair, I never thought we’d be together forever or anything like that.

I went on a single date when Piper was a year old and I’ll never forget the way he stared at me when I took my bra off.

It was like seeing someone experience Paris syndrome in real life, being disappointed by something you build up in your head…

I did everything I could to never repeat that experience, and haven’t been on a date since. ”

My heart sinks. That’s why she didn’t want me to touch her breasts. Some asshole made her feel like shit about her body. Now she’s convinced herself he was right and not simply a loser whose idea of beautiful breasts were what he’d seen in porn.

“I never stayed when I had sex with Piper’s dad,” she continues.

“We’d have sex in his car and he’d drop me home and that was that.

Neither of our parents knew we were having sex, and I think that was why we slept together.

The thrill of being bad, you know? Sneaking around like that made me feel alive.

” She lifts her eyes. “But now I’m stunted because I have no idea what’s supposed to happen next. ”

I chew on my lower lip, trying to find the right words to say. “I’m sorry,” is what I settle on.

“You don’t have to apologize,” she says earnestly. “I wanted… that. You didn’t do anything wrong, and you didn’t know…”

“Sweetheart, I know you wanted it,” I interrupt her. “I’m apologizing because I’m genuinely so sorry that someone made you feel shitty about your body.”

Audrey doesn’t say anything, staring absently at Leia as my cat daughter cleans between her toes. “What happens now?” she asks, voice barely louder than a whisper.

“I’m not sure,” I admit. My experience with relationships and sex and love is complicated, to put it mildly. “I think we get to figure it out.”

“I have a crush on you,” she blurts out suddenly before burying her face in the pillow again.

“I mean… we dry humped like teenagers. I’d hope you were attracted to me.”

She throws the pillow at me, but I catch it before it makes an impact.

“Come on, sweetheart. I have seven siblings and you thought you could catch me off guard by—” I’m cut off when a Millennium Falcon pillow collides with my face.

“And I’m a mom. You think I haven’t perfected the art of taking people by surprise?” she asks in a saccharine voice.

I don’t doubt it. She constantly takes me by surprise, and not only because she nailed me with the second pillow.

“Since you told me you have a crush on me, I guess I should tell you I have one on you, too. Always have, actually. You were the first girl I had a crush on. God, you were prettier than Princess Leia—” Audrey makes a strangled choking noise, but I keep talking. “Like I was kind of obsessed.”

“Oh, Ren.” She slides closer to me, and my heart inflates. She’s touched. Honored.

I turn to face her. “Yeah?” I try to keep my voice steady, so as to not give away how giddy I am.

“I’m gonna hold your hand when I say this…” She picks my hand up and squeezes it. “I know.”

I stare at her. “I mean… like I had a crush on you as a kid, not just in the present,” I clarify.

She smiles sympathetically. “I know. We all knew. It was a little creepy, to be honest.”

“Creepy,” I echo hollowly. This can not be happening.

“You were nine and wouldn’t stop staring at me, or playing love ballads while staring at me. You insisted on learning how to play that song from Titanic and would sing and stare at me whenever you practiced. One time, you muttered, ‘I love you,’ at Sunday dinner.”

“Ah, yes, see, that was a misunderstanding. I was quoting The Empire Strikes Back and hoping you’d finish the quote for me,” I defend myself—quite convincingly, I think.

She tilts her head and raises a brow.

“Fine. I was literally in love with you,” I say quickly. That look she gave me could get me to reveal the things I kept secret even from Father Gilligan when I still went to confession.

She laughs and I decide it was worth making a fool out of myself to hear that again. “You’re lucky you grew up to be so handsome,” she says.

I grin. “You think I’m handsome, sweetheart?”

Her eyes widen. “I didn’t say that.”

“You just did! And if you were to check the transcript, the record would show…”

She playfully shoves my shoulder. “You’re an asshole.”

“I cannot believe you had the audacity to call me creepy when you somehow got into my apartment building and figured out which apartment was mine. That’s like, proper stalker behavior.”

“I mean, if you want to get technical about it…”

I laugh, and I try to pretend I don’t notice how her eyes brighten, like she loves the sound of my laughter as much I love the sound of hers.

That’s dangerous thinking.

“What do you want to happen next?” I ask her.

“I don’t know,” she responds quietly. “I mean… I know I want that to happen again, obviously.” I’m pretty sure my chest puffs out with pride, like I’m an exotic bird. “But I don’t think I’m relationship material.”

My chest deflates like a balloon, complete with the squeaky sound and everything.

I’ve had sex outside of relationships before, because I thought I had to, or because the other person was showing interest and I felt like I had to return that interest. I felt weird, because while most of my friends were having casual sex, I found I truly didn’t even want to have sex if I wasn’t in a relationship.

One of my friends mentioned they were demisexual, and I remember being intrigued, because what they described, attraction only occurring when there’s an emotional connection, was something I relate to.

After some research, I realized I’m pansexual, too.

Someone’s gender has never hindered my ability to be attracted to someone, and it felt freeing to find labels I identified with.

After that, I only had sex in serious relationships, or at least what I thought were serious relationships, in Taylor’s case.

That relationship did such a number on me that I’ve refused to even download an app to try to get back out there.

I should tell Audrey it won’t work. That her needs are valid, but I can’t be the one who fulfills them. That sex can never be purely physical for me.

But I want her, any way I can have her. And who am I kidding? She’s already holding a delicate, breakable part of myself in her hands.

“Ren?” she asks slowly, somehow dragging out my three-letter name.

“Audrey?” I respond.

“Would you… want to be friends?”

I blink at her. “Are we not already?”

“No. I mean, yes. I don’t know. I don’t have friends. I haven’t since high school. I don’t really let people in, you know? Since everything happened.”

“Understandable.”

“I think you’re like… a mom friend. But not a mom friend because you’re not a mom.

But we’re friends because I’m Piper’s mom.

And I think… I think maybe I’d like to be friends beyond that?

Friends not because of Piper… but friends because of us?

” She peers up at me, eyes so full of hope, and I’m willing to ignore the fact friends don’t usually make out and grind to orgasm.

“Is that what you want?” I ask slowly. “Do you want any… benefits?” I want to run through a damn wall. I don’t do friends with benefits. For me, sex is a commitment. It sounds like something my Nonna would preach as she shook her rosary at us, that sex is sacred, blah blah blah.

It’s not a morality thing, rather that for me personally, physical intimacy is woven together with emotional intimacy.

“I mean…” She eyes me, and suddenly, I want to hide myself. I feel raw, exposed. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. You’re in Piper’s life, too, and I don’t… I don’t want anything you and I do to impact her.”

“I understand.” I nod slowly, watching the hope of something more with her float away. But being friends means she wants that emotional intimacy with me, too. “I’d love to be your friend, Audrey.”