were always gray. "Did you need me to get something from the records room? You were headed that way."
He tucked my hair over my ear, frowning. "Stop lying to me. You look pale and you're hugging the hardware. No part of that qualifies as 'all good.'"
As I didn't have the energy to shelter Ash from the reality of women's bodies and their assorted functions, even if I didn't know how to forge this territory with him. I made a vague gesture toward my abdomen, saying, "It's just some cramps. They'll pass."
There were seven seconds of total, blank confusion in Ash's eyes before he understood my meaning. Seven. Then he nodded to himself and consulted his watch. "Let's head out for the day. We'll get something delivered. What would you like?"
I pointed toward his office. "You need to finish the—"
"I did," he interrupted. "I printed the last draft to give it a final read tonight." He reached into the output tray and held up the papers as proof. "What do you want, love? Please tell me."
I stared at my shoes because I didn't know how to do this. How to share this part of myself with someone else though it wasn't a matter of shame. Rather, I'd always handled it on my own. I'd managed through my first period by myself and all the ones that followed. I'd escorted myself to the gynecologist when I was seventeen and managed my birth control choices without the guidance or support of anyone but my doctor.
"I don't want to make you uncomfortable," I said.
When it came to divulging these things with my boss-roommate-sex-monster, I didn't know what was normal. I was aware the polite obliviousness thing was a sketchy way for men to pretend vaginas were only intended as their playgrounds but I hadn't realized some men didn't plug their ears and la-la-la it away until this conversation. I didn't know there were real men who cared.
"Not being able to make it better is uncomfortable for me," he replied.
I wrapped my arms around my torso and offered him a quick shoulder lift. "Maybe we could order pizza."
Ash winced, shoved his hands in his pockets. I didn't know if that was a reaction to pizza or something else.
"What kind of pizza?" he asked. "Thin crust, deep dish, brick oven?"
"Thin crust," I said. "If that works for you."
He made a sound of approval. "What are we putting on this thin crust pizza, love?"
The air-conditioning vent above us roared to life and I was presently dying of hypothermia on a summer day. Good god. Whenever a chill struck me, there was nothing I could do to get warm. I just had to wait it out. "Peppers, mushrooms, and pepperoni," I managed.
He offered another rumble, another nod. "And what are we drinking?"
I rubbed my palms up my arms. "What about beer? Something like Blue Moon."
"That's going to be a Trillium wheat in this neck of the woods but sure," he replied, swiping his phone to life. "Anything for dessert?"
I shook my head as goose bumps climbed over my chest, down my legs. "No, I won't need chocolate for a few more days."
"For fuck's sake, come here," he said, thumbing away at his phone. "You're shivering." I went into his open arm and slumped against him. "Do you need…anything? We have over-the-counter pain relievers at home but I don't have anything else you might require."
I flattened my palms on his torso because he was so damn warm, like a human hot water bottle. "Not until later next week. This is just—it's just the prelude," I replied. "If it helps, please know the opening act is worse than the main event."
Ash finished with his phone, returned it to his pocket, and kissed my temple. "I've tossed this over in my head a few times and I don't think there's a way for me to tell you to stop apologizing without sounding like a tyrant but I'm saying it. I don't care if the entire show is difficult. In case you haven't noticed, I can't get enough of you and your body. And I'm sure you haven't forgotten how you looked after me when I needed it. I plan on returning the favor and you need to accept that. No apologies allowed. No pretending you're fine. No protecting my fragile male consciousness because you're worried I'm squeamish."
If the emotion filling my chest at this moment wasn't love, I didn't know what was. In fact, I didn't want to know. I didn't