Page 114 of Made Better Together

“I’m okay. You’re helping me to connect dots I didn’t recognize before.”

I stay quiet as he processes. A few moments later, he answers my earlier question. “The honest answer is no. My college girlfriend, she was more like me. She enjoyed running the show. So I often did what she wanted. In every aspect.”

“Okay.” That’s all the details I need.

“Otherwise, I guess I’ve been more assertive with others than with my ex, but I’ve never noticed the pattern.” He crinkles his brow. “How about you? Have you…experienced this before?”

“Um, well…I guess there were signs, but no situation that made it clear. To me, anyway.”

“Signs?”

“I…do you really want to hear this?”

“Maybe not, but my brain won’t shut off the question.”

We’re so similar that way. “Okay…well, my high school boyfriend, he used to pin me down. Consensually, I mean. I liked that.”

“Okay.”

We’re both quiet for a minute.

“When we get back to my house, can I take a look at those books?” he asks finally.

32

CONNOR

She hands me the book, The Forbidden Fortnight, once we’re on my couch.

“What am I looking at here?” There’s a shirtless guy with glasses on the front, looking like he’s maybe in his late twenties.

“That’s supposed to be the professor in the story. He and his TA bump into each other at a sex club, and they give themselves two weeks to do ‘scenes’ together before they vow to never indulge again.” She looks up at me. “Do you know what scenes are?”

Not really. “I can guess, but can you explain?”

“It’s a dedicated period of time when you assume the dom-sub roles, within whatever rules and boundaries everyone’s agreed to.”

“Makes sense.”

“Anyway, the professor and TA eventually fall in love, and it’s a happy ever after.”

“Nice. Okay.”

She ruffles through her bag but then ends up empty-handed. “You know what? I’m not even giving you the other one. It’s a mafia book and the situations…are kind of extreme.”

“So let me focus on this one. Plus this guy has glasses. Relatable.”

She gives a small giggle. “Sounds good.”

“Where do I start? I’m not going to read this whole book right now?”

She takes it back and thumbs through to the scene she wants me to read. “Look at this chapter.”

The lack of context is confusing at first, since I know nothing about these characters beyond her brief explanation. But then I focus on the parameters of the activities, and I start getting engaged.

“Ms. Cart, you’re going to sit in that chair, hands tied behind your back, and not move. Not an inch, you hear me?” I’ve wrapped the cloth bindings tight enough that she can’t do much anyway.

She nods, eyes wide. You could hear a pin drop in the room. In my mind, I’m pretending it’s our empty classroom—instead of the club.