Page 32 of Come As You Are
The question caught me off guard and I looked down at myself. I was dressed in my usual work attire: a black knit dress, stockings, and heels with a Cleopatra collar necklace, gold bangles, and a couple of statement rings.
“I thought you might be more comfortable in sweats,” Vee explained.
“Oh.” I sat on the couch. “I’m fine.”
“Okay. If you want to borrow something, just let me know.” Vee was still wearing his cutoff shorts, though Sebastian had gotten his backpack for him from the staff room, and Vee had dug out a sweatshirt to cover up his chest and arms before we got in my car.
We tucked into our food, but my mind was still on Vee’s question. The truth was, I rarely dressed informally because I didn’t feel right in casual clothing. Sweats were the worst. There was something about them that triggered my dysphoria. Maybeit was the androgyny of them or the way they reminded me of PE in school, I don’t know, but I liked to keep my appearance as feminine as possible.
I knew I didn’t owe Vee an explanation, but I gave him one anyway. He listened carefully, asked a couple of questions about what my transition had been like and how I felt about my body now, then thanked me and settled back to eat. I studied him as he lifted a dumpling to his mouth, wondering why it didn’t bother me that he’d asked some quite personal questions.
Over the years, I’d gotten some doozies ranging from the unfortunately too frequent inquiries about what was between my legs—to which I often responded “gonads”—to questions about whether I still had to shave, if I’d had “the” surgery, if I was going to have “the” surgery, and tell me my breasts had to be implants because men weren’t capable of having breasts. People were sometimes very free with their opinions about whether they would or wouldn’t have surgery or take hormones, and it confused me why they seemed to think it was necessary for me to know that. If I had the privilege of not needing HRT, I’d be thrilled, but I was far happier living in a body that felt correct for me.
“Did I overstep?” Vee asked. “If I made you uncomfortable, I’m sorry.”
“The opposite, actually,” I said. “And I’m just puzzled why. I don’t talk about it with a lot of people, but your questions didn’t bother me at all.” I shrugged, and would have said more, but a knock at the door signaled the arrival of the Instacart delivery.
Vee laughed at the number of bags I received, and told me I hadn’t needed to do all that, but I told him it was fine.
“You barely have anything in the kitchen,” I said as I sorted through everything until I found the ACE bandage and heating pad. “All right. Let’s get your ankle wrapped up.”
I shifted Vee’s foot to my lap, conscious of its weight and warmth as well as the solid muscle beneath my hands as I wound the bandage up his lower leg. I took as long as I dared, lingering over the way the elasticized fabric overlapped and making sure it was tight enough to give Vee added stability but not so restrictive that it would cut off his circulation. When I was done, I put a hand on his toes to make sure they were still warm.
Vee laughed and wiggled them against my palm, then winced as the movement aggravated his ankle, but he didn’t take his foot away from my touch. Instead, he leaned his head back against the couch and sighed, so I kept my contact light and continued to gently stroke the top of his foot and toes. The television droned in the background, but I wasn’t paying any attention to it as I studied Vee’s face. He’d closed his eyes, and though I missed being able to see their remarkably bright color, I enjoyed the chance to study him up close.
I knew little about Vee except what I’d heard from Andrew and around the club. Originally from Idaho, grew up on a small ranch. It wasn’t much, but I could also read between the lines; not that it took a genius to figure out you didn’t end up sleeping in the storeroom of a club if you had any kind of family to support you. So many of the people who came to work at Illyria had followed similar trajectories. If I hadn’t had Antonio, I would have been in a similar place. And I knew enough about Sebastian’s story to recognize why he’d been so quick to take Vee in as well. Antonio had never filled me in on the details of how or where he’d met the man, but it was his faith in Sebastian that had brought him around and blended him into Illyria’s family.
As I sat with Vee, I realized it wasn’t just compassion for another castoff that made me increasingly aware of my own body as I kept contact with his. I’d felt the attraction to Vee before, felt the way in which his presence made me feel more comfortable inside my skin. And not just with him. Thishappened when I was around both him and Sebastian. I knew what it meant, but I didn’t know what to do about it. I was sure, if Antonio were around, he’d tell me to stop worrying about it and let things take their natural course: if we were all attracted to each other—which I believed we were—then what would be the harm? And while that might have been true while I was the assistant manager, was the same true now that I was the owner?
I’d felt my brother’s absence so many times in the past two years, but never more acutely than I did at this moment. Illyria’s issues were one thing—there was a definite answer to what was happening—but matters of the heart were something else. I didn’t have much experience in this area. Even Vee, for as young as he was, seemed to have more of an understanding of how to navigate romantic relationships than I did.
As my thoughts wandered, my gaze drifted toward the television, attracted by the movement and light without my conscious awareness of what I was seeing. When I returned my gaze to Vee, his eyes were open, and he was watching my fingers stroke over the exposed skin on his foot. He shifted his weight on the sofa cushion, then grimaced as he withdrew his foot from my lap and tried to stand.
“Hey!” I got up. “Let me help you. What do you need? I’ll get it for you.”
Vee’s face flamed red. “I have to piss,” he said.
“Ah. Okay. I can help you down the hall.”
I held out my hand. Vee stared at me, chewing on his lips as he seemed to consider his options, then finally put his hand in mine and let me help him to his feet.
Vee leaned on me as we made our slow, unsteady way toward the bathroom. I knew he was trying not to put all his weight on me, but he also couldn’t put any on his injured foot, so he was hopping on one leg which meant every movement forward jarred his ankle. As hard as he was trying, each step was accompaniedby a pained huff of air until I finally slung his arm around my shoulder and put mine around his waist.
“I won’t break,” I said and pulled him into my side. “I may not have worked cattle, but I had an older brother, and we used to wrestle with each other all the time.”
With a grateful sigh, Vee relaxed against me, and we managed to get him down the hall without any further trouble.
“I can take it from here,” Vee said with a smile when we reached the door.
I let him go and retreated to the living room until I heard the bathroom door open again.
Vee had changed out of his cutoffs and into a pair of sweats, which made me mourn the loss of his uncovered legs, though I couldn’t blame him. I don’t care how comfortable work clothing might be, there was something to be said for getting out of it at the end of the day. I might not want to wear sweats, but when I got home, I immediately changed into leggings and a baggy sweater. If the weather was hot, I chose a tank top and a long, flowy skirt. Though I will say, if I looked as good in sweats as Vee, I’d consider wearing them at home.
I joined him at the bathroom door and helped him back toward the couch.
“You don’t have to stay with me,” Vee said as we took one slow step after another. “I’m old enough to stay by myself.”
“I know, but I promised Sebastian I would.”
