APRIL

As Steph turns to leave, I grab the sheet and wrap it around my naked body to attempt to follow her. I stumble out of my room and into the hall, trying to stay decent while ignoring the protests from Jackson claiming I've left him with nothing to cover up with.

"Steph!" I call, breathless. I clutch the sheet at my chest and listen to the slap of my bare feet against the hardwood that Jackson had complimented not long ago. "Steph, please. Wait up."

She stops at the door, one arm outstretched to keep me at a distance. "No," she says. "I don't wanna talk right now. Not anymore. I'm sorry."

"I didn't know!" I say, insistent.

When she turns, her cheeks are shiny with tears even as she tries to wipe them away. "I know," she says. "I didn't want you to. I don't want to feel like this."

"Can you just stay?" I ask. "We can work it out, it'll be-"

"I don't want to," she says. "I don't wanna have these feelings and I don't wanna stay. I'm having a really hard time being around you. It's too confusing."

"I'm sorry," I whimper, not knowing what else to say. "Steph, I'm…"

"Stop apologizing," she says, opening the door. "It's not your problem."

"April?" Jackson calls, his voice faraway and distant. "Is everything okay?"

"He's calling you," Steph says, nodding towards the sound.

"You're my best friend," I say. "If you need me, I'm here. You know that. This isn't a big-"

"Yeah, it kind of is a big deal," she says. "That's the problem, and that's why I need to go. So, can you please just let me?"

"I don't want it to be forever," I say, pulling the sheet tighter.

She sighs. "Don't be dramatic. I just need to figure this out on my own."

"Okay," I say weakly.

"Do you want me to leave?" Jackson calls again.

"Go ahead," Steph says. "I'm fine. Just go."

I watch the door close as stand there for a while, in disbelief. When Jackson suggested that she might have a crush on me, it seemed like a such a silly thought. Steph and I are best friends; we tell each other everything and she never told me she liked girls. I have no idea what to make of this.

"April," Jackson says, calling my name as I'm still standing in the same place. "Is everything alright? I don't have to stay."

I frown and run my tongue over my top teeth, trying to make sense of the situation. I just had sex with a man who is essentially my boss, which I've never done before. How are we supposed to move forward? I'm his daughter's caretaker. His wife is dead. It's not like this can morph into some sort of happy family situation. Maybe I ruined everything. And in the end, the person who will end up suffering isn't Jackson, isn't me, it's Athena. I shake my head and wonder how stupid one person - me - could possibly be.

I walk back into my bedroom thinking I should tell him to leave, that I need time to think about my life, but one look at his face and all of that goes out the window. He's lying there without the sheet, one of my quilts strewn over his middle, watching the door. As soon as I appear, relief washes over his features and my heart softens because of it. Damn him.

"Hey," he says, sitting up while making sure the blanket stays in place. "What's going on?"

I sit down and let the sheet crumple. "She left again," I say, blinking hard while staring at one of his knees. "Did you hear what she said? Before the door opened?"

He shakes his head. "No," he says. "I didn't hear anything. If I had… I would have tried to cover up. I'm pretty sure she saw my dick."

"That's the least of our problems," I murmur, flopping to lie flat, arms above my head. "She finally admitted what's been bothering her. You were right. She has feelings for me."

"Oh," he says quietly.

"So, now I don't know what to do," I say, closing my eyes.

"Do you…" he begins, trying to find his way.

I already know what he's going to say, though, so I don't let him finish. "I love her so much," I say. "As a best friend. I didn't even know she liked girls. But… maybe she never knew, either. I don't know. I just feel bad about everything. She's been having all these confusing feelings and I haven't done anything to help."

"You didn't know, though," he says. "How could you be expected to help?"

"I don't know," I say. "We're usually pretty good at reading each other's minds."

He sighs. "Well, I've found that if someone doesn't want you to know something, they make sure you don't find out. I'm sure this was hard for her to come to terms on her own, let alone with you."

My eyes grow hot, threatening tears. "She probably thinks our friendship is over," I say.

"Is it?"

"No, Jackson," I say sternly, perturbed. "I would never stop being her friend over… no."

"I didn't mean on your part," he clarifies. "I meant hers. What if being your friend is too difficult?"

I hadn't thought of it like that, from her point of view. Maybe Steph is right. Maybe, over everything, I am selfish. "Well, I guess I don't know," I say. "She didn't wanna talk. She said she didn't wanna be around me."

We're quiet for a long time, and for that I'm glad. I don't need counsel at the moment; what I want is to fix this. I feel off-kilter being at odds with Steph, like part of my life has been knocked off the shelf. I can only hope that, in time, she'll want to pick it up and replace it. "I'm sorry," Jackson says eventually, moving closer to throw an arm over my middle. I brace my hands on his wrist and drag my nails over his skin absentmindedly, feeling his heartbeat through his chest because he's so close. "I really am."

"I know," I say, picking up one arm to envelop his shoulders with it. He rests his head on my stomach, and with my free hand I twine his curls through my fingers and watch them spring back once I let go. Even though I shouldn't be, I'm enjoying the heavy weight of his big head on me, resting, dependent. It's comforting.

"A shower would make you feel better," he says. "Wash it away."

"Yeah," I agree, and he picks his head up. He reaches for his shirt that found a place on the floor and starts to put it on until I stop him. "Wait," I say. "Do you want to…?"

"Oh, you want me to?"

"Yeah," I say, standing up stark naked. "I mean, if you want."

I turn on music that I would normally dance to in the shower, but right now I'm not feeling the energy. I stand under the jet and allow him some of the water, too, but I don't talk. There's too much going on in my head to put into words. "You okay?" he asks a few moments later, shampooing my hair with strong fingers.

I look up at him and he thumbs shampoo off my forehead to prevent it from getting into my eyes. "Yeah," I say halfheartedly.

"Still thinking about it?" he says.

"Steph?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah," I admit, eyes losing focus. "That and… other stuff. I don't know. There's a lot going on in there right now."

"Wanna let it out?" he says, then tips my head back. "Rinse."

"No, not really," I say, eyes closed as the water runs over my hair.

He's quiet for a moment as I stay under the jet, and when I come back, I put body wash on the loofah and run it over his chest. It's strange, washing someone else. I don't think I've ever done it before. "Are you thinking about what we did?" he asks persistently.

I sigh softly and say, "I don't know."

"Are you upset?" he asks, a bit paranoid now. "Do you regret it?"

I close my eyes and try not to get frustrated. I'm slowly building a wall, but it's just for tonight. It's not permanent; just to protect my heart from everything it's going through. He won't let me stack the bricks, though, and it's irritating. The thing is, I don't feel any different. I liked having sex with him, but tonight didn't transform me. He wasn't the first person to be with me intimately, just the first person with a penis. I don't know what constitutes virginity, though. I don't know what it means to 'lose it' with a girl, as a bisexual. I don't know what that means at all - I've never had anyone tell me how to navigate these waters. All I know is that I don't feel different, I don't feel changed; I'm still the same April I was before he had me in bed. I can't figure out if it's wrong or not, to feel like this. Judging by the traditional constructs, I did just lose my virginity. Why doesn't it feel like it?

"I don't have any answers right now," I say, watching the water run over his skin. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," he says. "I just want to make sure you're alright."

"I'm confused," I say honestly. "But I'll be fine."

When it's time for him to go, he lingers while I want nothing more than to be alone. It's not that I didn't enjoy our time together - I did - but I'm ready to be by myself, in the state I've grown most used to. I need to sit with my thoughts and try to figure out what to make of them, and I can't do that with him here. I wouldn't necessarily call him part of the problem but being distracted will impede me from finding a solution.

"I had a really nice night," I say, and it's the truth. "Thank you for everything."

There's something wary in his eyes, like he's trying to read my mind and what I'm not saying. He won't find anything, though, because I'm not even sure of what's inside my head. So, there's no way he could decipher it. "I did, too," he responds. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'll be fine," I say for the second time. "It's not you."

"Please, don't drop that line," he says. "I feel like you're pulling away. Why?"

I sigh and close my eyes, wanting to be done with this. "Because my best friend just dropped a huge bomb on me and I slept with my boss, Jackson," I say, fed-up. "I need time to process, and I need to do it by myself, I'm sorry. I'm not mad, I really liked tonight, but I need to think everything over. I need to be alone, okay?"

"Oh," he says, features growing vulnerable and wounded.

"Yeah," I say. "So, I'll text you, okay?"

I can imagine my behavior must be confusing for him, too. know I'm not making sense. I'm not making sense to myself, either, but I'm done apologizing. "Sure," he says.

"Jackson," I say, hating myself for allowing us to part on such strained terms. "Come here."

He takes a few steps forward and I hold his face gently, bringing his head down so I can kiss him. He takes my waist and draws me in, lingering for a long moment until the kiss breaks and we pull away. "Bye, April," he says, licking his lips. "If you need anything, just call."

After I wave and lock the door behind him, I walk back into my bedroom in a fog. I strip the bed and throw everything into the wash, then sit on the bare mattress with no clear indication of what to do next. If part of my problem didn't involve Steph, she would be the first person I sought out to talk about this. I go through my list of people - Jackson, my dad, Owen, the few casual friends I have from work, and nix them all. The only person I want to talk to about this is Izzie, no matter how wrong it might be.

Before I can overthink and change my mind, I dial the number I have memorized before realizing that it's close to 1am. It's too late now, though; the phone is already ringing. "Hello?" she answers, and I instantly feel better just hearing her voice. "April?"

"Hey," I say. "I know it's late, I'm sorry. I didn't realize how… I just really need to talk to you."

"Okay…" she says, sounding confused. "About what? Is everything okay?"

I let out a long, loud breath. "Yeah. I'm fine. It's about…" I think about the two big things on my mind - Steph and Jackson. And how wrong it feels to tell her everything over the phone in the middle of the night. "A lot. It's a lot."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Physically, yeah. But emotionally, I'm kind of a wreck. I don't think I'll be able to tell you over the phone. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called. I can deal with it myself."

"Don't apologize," she says. "If you need me, I'm here. We always said that."

"Yeah."

"Do you want to meet up and talk?" she asks cautiously.

My stomach clenches with the suggestion. I haven't seen Izzie in almost six months, since the day we made our breakup final. She had been taking the last of her things home in a box from this apartment, and I watched her pack from the bed I'm sitting on right now. I was crying, she was stone-faced and trying to hold it in. It's not a day I remember fondly. But the prospect of seeing her again on better terms is one I can't, and won't, pass up. "Sure," I say.

"April…" she says. "Just the other day you said you weren't sure if we could be friends. Are you sure you want to do this?"

I let my head fall forward to rest in one hand, confused as ever. I want Izzie's advice because her opinion matters to me, and I want to see her because her presence is comforting. I don't want a rekindling. That's not my goal. "Biz, I just need you," I say. "That's all."

"Okay," she says solemnly, understandingly. "Then let's meet tomorrow."

…

We decide to meet on neutral ground, at Starbucks in the neighborhood. I get there early because my stomach is jumping and watch the door intently, trying to seem like I wasn't once she walks in.

She's wearing jeans and a white cable knit sweater, hair in a messy bun. No makeup except for light pink lipstick, and when she spots me, a big smile breaks onto her face. She's always had the biggest smile - it lights up her entire face. "Hey," she says, approaching me for a hug that I readily walk into. I wrap my arms around her and close my eyes, letting go before I accidentally hold for too long. "You okay?" she asks, cupping my elbows.

"Yeah," I say, sitting back down on the brown couch I'd been on. She sits next to me on the middle cushion, one arm resting along the back so she can face me.

"If you really were, though, would I be here?" she asks lightly.

I laugh weakly and say, "You have a point."

"Tell me what's up."

"Well," I say, moving to sit in the same way she is with my head leaning on my shoulder. "Steph and I have been fighting; I think I told you that. And last night… well, I found out why. She told me that she has a crush on me."

"Oh, shit."

"I know," I say, chewing my lip. "And she's really upset. I think she thinks we can't be friends anymore, but I don't know if that's the case. I mean, I don't feel weird about it. I'm pretty sure it's something we can get past."

"Did you guys get a chance to talk it out?" Izzie asks.

"No," I say. "She left."

"So, she just told you and... left?" she says, puzzled. "That's weird."

"Well, she found me in sort of a compromising position," I say, clearing my throat. "She just threw open my door as I was in bed with Jackson, the new guy I've… um… I lost my virginity last night. He and I were having sex. That's what she walked in on."

Izzie's face screws up in an expression I have a hard time reading; something between confusion and frustration. "What?" she says, eyes narrowed.

"What do you mean, what?" I repeat. "I had sex with Jackson. No longer a virgin."

She shakes her head, lips pressed together as her chin juts forward. "So… all those times we had sex?" she continues, sounding pissed. "Nothing? That meant nothing to you?" She scoffs. "You honestly considered yourself a virgin until you had a dick inside you. Jesus, April, do you know how damaging that is?"

"Everyone's concept of virginity is different," I say. "It's not that I-"

"No," she says. "It's invalidating. I get that virginity is a construct made up by the patriarchy, but you're not only insinuating that the sex between you and me didn't mean anything, you're insinuating that women having sex with women is invalid in general. Do you understand?" I stay silent, face growing red. I feel put on the spot and I have nothing to say. "He didn't take your virginity," she hisses. "I did."

"Okay," I say, eyes wide and face hot. "You don't have to… okay. Yeah."

"It pisses me off when people say shit like that about bi girls, that they're technically still virgins 'cause they've only had sex with girls. It's not true. Do you get it?"

"Yeah," I say, wringing my hands. "I'm sorry."

"I didn't mean to get mad, it's just that… well, having sex with you meant a lot. I loved being close with you and I always thought you valued it, too. You just made it sound like it didn't count."

"It did," I say. "It did count. I just thought… I don't know, everyone makes it seem like that in order to not be a virgin, you have to be penetrated by something. And we never…"

"April," she says. "I know you don't have anyone in your life to teach you this, so I'm gonna be real with you. There isn't just one way to have sex, which means there isn't just one way to lose your virginity."

I take a few minutes and sit with what she said. Is that why I didn't feel any different last night after what Jackson and I did? It's not that I thought about Izzie while we were in the middle of it, but she's the only other person I've been with. I feel stupid now, never classifying what we did as sex. How could I have been so stupid? What would it have been other than sex? I shake my head, then say, "I'm an idiot."

"You're not," she says.

"Everything I do is wrong," I say. "Honestly, it's a problem. I can't do anything right." I look right into her eyes, those pretty brown eyes. "I don't know why I never called it 'sex' in my head, you know, what we did. It makes no sense. Of course we were having sex. Why didn't I realize it?"

She shrugs, raising her eyebrows a bit. "You were getting used to being with a girl," she says. "You were like a puppy, learning everything for the first time. It's okay not to know. But it's not okay to keep perpetuating the mindset, which is why I told you."

"Okay," I say, one tear slipping out.

Before I can, she reaches to wipe it away with her thumb. "You're okay, babe," she says. "Don't cry."

"Does that mean I lied?" I ask, holding her hand with both of mine. "I told Jackson that I was a virgin. So stupid."

"Just explain," she says. "If he cares about you, he'll understand. You're always gonna keep learning and getting to know yourself better."

"Yeah," I say, sniffling. I look towards the floor for a long moment before letting my eyes roam back to her face, and I find her still studying me. "It did mean something, what happened between you and me," I say. "It really did. I…" My voice breaks and I close my mouth to clear my throat. "I still think about you."

"Me, too," she says.

Sitting there with her, all the good feelings that she used to give me come back. I remember how excited I would feel when my phone lit up with a text from her, how comforting it was when she would get to the apartment before me and start dinner. I remember how much we'd laugh trying to shout out Jeopardy! answers first, before the other could. Once, I made Sprite come out of her nose. I don't think either of us ever got a Final Jeopardy question right in the entire year and few months we were together. But I loved acting like that with her, silly and carefree. I was always smiling when she was around.

"You taught me a lot," I say, then laugh sadly. "You still are, I guess."

"I'm glad to," she says. "You matter to me."

"You, too."

We're so close already, it doesn't take much for it to happen. I don't know who initiates it, but it doesn't matter. What matters is that we both reciprocate and lean in for a soft, chaste kiss that turns into nothing else. I close my eyes and touch the side of her face, remembering all of its familiar curves, and she overlaps my hand with hers, lingering for only a moment. But as quick as it started, it's over and we pull away like we've been burned - shocked and regretful. She's blushing and I'm mortified - something seemed to take over my mind that I had no control over. "Sorry," I say, covering my mouth. "I shouldn't… I… I'm with Jackson."

"I know," she says. "I'm sorry, too. I didn't mean to. It just…"

"I know."

I avert my eyes and press cold fingers to my cheeks in an attempt to cool them down. I don't know how the kiss made me feel - maybe at home, more than anything. It was familiar and safe, two things I haven't quite achieved with Jackson yet. I know I can't have the best of both worlds, though; Izzie and I are over. It's not that there's an absence of feelings between us, but we're not going to try again. I thought I had made peace with that, but right now I don't feel so sure of that, or anything else. My brain has moved on from her, but my heart is obviously lingering. I wish it would stop.

"I should go," I say, gathering my things. I don't trust myself. It's not that I think I'm going to jump her, but I didn't come here thinking I would kiss her today. I don't like that unpredictability, so the best choice is to remove myself. I don't think I should see her again.

"We didn't talk about Steph," she says, craning her neck as I stand.

"I know," I say. "I… I know. I just have to go."

"April," she says, trying to bring me back to earth. "You don't have to leave. You can stay. It was a mistake; it didn't mean anything."

I pause for a moment, running my top teeth over my bottom lip. "But it could," I say weakly. "And I don't want it to."

…

For the rest of the weekend, I try to call Steph to no avail. I leave her a few voicemails but it's of no use; she probably doesn't even listen before erasing them. I finally give up, but that only gives me time to think about what else that's bothering me - that kiss, and how guilty I feel.

I know I have to tell Jackson, too, along with the virginity thing. I don't know how he'll react or if he'll want to stay with me. I've gone over how I want to say it a thousand times, but I don't know if he'll hear me in the way I want him to.

I'm not acting like myself with Athena on Monday afternoon, and she notices, too. I try to snap out of it, but it's difficult when I keep looking at the clock waiting for 7pm to arrive. I know Jackson will waltz through that door, probably happy to see me, having no clue what's to come.

"I wanna learn a new song," Athena says, fingers dancing on the keys as she looks at me brightly. "Can you play a new one?"

"A new one?" I echo, blinking dazedly at her hands. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe tomorrow. I'm feeling a little off today."

"No, you're not," she says, lifting one of my hands to set it on the piano. "Come on, please? Just one? I'm tired of the ones I've been doing. I did them all weekend and I got really good. I don't need to practice those anymore."

"What you need is a teacher who challenges you," I say. "I told you that you might outgrow my skills. I think you're already there."

"No, I'm not," she says. "'Cause you won't show me another song. Show me!"

"Hey," I say, frowning.

"Please?"

I sigh and sit up straighter, flipping through the pieces in my head that I have memorized. "Okay," I say. "Then, after this, I'm gonna go start on dinner. I only have the capacity for one."

"Okay, can you just play it now?"

"You're getting pushy," I say. "I don't like it."

"Please?" she says again, trying to appease me. "Oh, by the way. You're invited to my birthday on Sunday."

"I know," I say, realizing I shouldn't have let that slip.

"How?" she asks. "I just told you."

"I just assumed," I say. "I mean, given that I'm your favorite nanny ever."

"You're my only nanny," she says with a smile.

"Is anyone else coming?" I ask.

"You, Daddy, Grandma, Grandpa, Aunt Maggie and my cousins," she says, reaching to trace the lettering of the piano brand - Bechstein.

"What about some friends from school?"

She looks at me with disgust, like she can't believe what I said. "Who?" she spits. "I don't have any. They're all babies."

"Just something to think about," I say. "A party full of adults doesn't sound very fun."

"You're not an adult, you always say that," she says, which is true. "You have a kid heart. So, it won't be all adults. Plus, my cousins."

"You've told me you don't like playing with your cousins all too much," I say. "So, what fun is that? Why not invite someone who you actually enjoy playing with?"

She looks at me with wide eyes like the answer is obvious. "You," she says. "Can you just play a song now?"

"Alright, alright," I say. "This one's called Rondo in D Major, and it's by Mozart. You ready?" She nods vigorously and I start to play, letting my wrists and fingers bounce as they move with the music. This piece is fun, fast, and light, and I look forward to seeing how quickly she absorbs it. I can already picture the smile on Jackson's face when he sees her hands moving at lightning speed across the keys.

"Whoa!" she exclaims once I finish. "That was so fast! Let me try now, let me try!"

"Alright, go ahead," I say, getting up from the stool. "Do you need to hear it again, or do you have it?" She doesn't answer with words. Instead, she starts playing the notes with a huge smile on her face - not quite as quickly as they need to go, but accurately. "There you go!" I say enthusiastically. This will never get old, will never stop being amazing. I walk over and kiss the top of her head, arms overlapping her collarbones as she plays the intricate song she heard only once. "It's perfect, baby, it's perfect," I muse, closing my eyes while letting the sound overtake me.

Instead of starting dinner, I sit back down on the bench with Athena until Jackson gets home. When he walks through the door, we're laughing over a few wrong notes, but his presence makes my stomach drop considerably. He looks happy, but I can't match the feeling because I know what the rest of tonight holds. He doesn't.

"Hey, ladies!" he says exuberantly, walking to the piano. He drops a kiss on Athena's hair and actively resists doing the same for me, I can tell. "Learning a new song, I hear?"

"I'm a master already, Daddy!" Athena boasts. "It's Mozart. I'll play it for you. Listen!"

He leans on the piano as she goes through the whole thing, eyes focused with her lips set in a straight, concentrated expression. But once she finishes, she's beaming and so is he. "That was awesome!" he says. "Did you just learn that?"

"April just played it and I just learned it," she says. "I went so fast."

"Yes, you did," he says. "It was great."

"I think I can get faster," she says.

"How about you try and do that, and me and April will go see what we can gather for dinner, alright?" She nods and I take that as my cue to follow him into the kitchen. I know now isn't the time to bring up what I need to - Athena can't be privy to what I'm sure will transpire. But I feel like I need to let him know that a conversation is called for. "Hey," he says, setting his things down before walking to where I stand by the fridge. "How was she today?"

"Good," I say. "Excited about the song."

"I see that," he says, eyeing me though I can't seem to look his way. "How are you?"

"Oh, fine," I say, clasping my hands together.

"Really?" he asks. "Because you don't seem like it."

I take a deep breath and close the distance between us, winding my arms around his waist for a hug. He reciprocates, of course, resting his cheek on my head while rubbing my spine. "I have a lot on my mind," I say. "A lot I need to talk to you about."

"Okay," he says. "Right now, or…?"

"Later," I say. "If that's alright."

"Of course," he says.

The evening seems to drag by, but luckily Athena excitedly accepts my presence instead of asking why I'm staying so late. She requests only me putting her to bed, but this time I make it a quick trip that ends with a hug and a soft kiss to the forehead. She's tired anyway and doesn't ask for much more. When I come back downstairs, Jackson is pouring each of us a glass of wine and walking to the couch with them in hand. "I don't know if I'm up for that tonight," I say, nodding towards the goblet resting atop a coaster, the one meant for me.

"Oh," he says, unbothered. "Well, it's there if you change your mind."

"Okay."

"So…" he begins. "What's going on?"

I lick my lips and try to remember how I wanted to start. Nothing comes to mind, though, and suddenly my whole body has gone frigid. "Um…" I clear my throat, blinking rapidly. "Okay. I don't really know how to get into it, but I want you to know that I'm telling you this because you're important to me, and our relationship is important. I don't want there to be any lies or hidden truths between us, so I want to put everything out there. Even the hard stuff."

"Alright," he says, waiting.

I take a deep breath and let it out with puffy cheeks. "Okay. Well, on Saturday, I saw Izzie. I was upset after you left on Friday night and needed someone to talk to about Steph, someone who knows our friendship. Izzie was the only one who fit that bill, so we got together at Starbucks. I was telling her that I lost my virginity because I needed her to know the backstory as to how Steph walked in, and she got really confused. Like, asking how I lost my virginity when it was already gone? And we got into this whole conversation about what virginity means for a bisexual girl and what it doesn't mean, and I learned that the way I was thinking about it was actually really toxic." I look him dead in the eyes, no matter how hard it is. "I wasn't a virgin when I slept with you on Friday. I've had sex with Izzie… we had sex while we were together. But some gross, uneducated part of my mind thought that it didn't count because there wasn't a penis involved… I don't know. I know I was wrong, that's what matters. It took me a long time, but I learned something."

He takes my long pause as a sign that I'm done, so he nods slowly and says, "Okay. I mean, I understand. I don't care, honestly. That doesn't mean I liked having sex with you any less. I don't care who you slept with before me, April. I'm glad you told me, but it doesn't change who you are to me. I'm glad it's clearer for you, though. That's good."

"Yeah," I say, trying to warm up my hands. "Um… that's not all, though."

"Oh," he says, frowning. "Okay."

I jiggle my foot and the movement makes my entire leg shake. I press my lips together and look at the ceiling, hating the position I put myself in. If Izzie and I hadn't kissed, I'd be done talking and everything would be fine. He understood the virginity thing, but that's the least of my problems. I wish it were the majority of them, though. "Um…" I stammer, opening and closing my mouth to try and figure out how to say it. "While we were in Starbucks, I wasn't thinking straight. My emotions were running really high, and I didn't feel like myself. That's no excuse, I'm not making excuses, but I'm saying it was a mistake." I swallow hard and look at my lap when I say, "We kissed. Izzie and me, we… um, we kissed."

There's a sick, pregnant pause in the air after I drop the statement. I look at his face to find his features hard and glazed over, blinking like he's deep in thought. "Hold on," he says, narrowing his eyes. "What?"

"It was a mistake," I say, leaning forward.

"April," he continues, still just as confused. "You told me you were over her. I believed you."

"I wasn't lying," I say. "She and I, we have a lot of history. It's hard to explain, I know it's hard to understand, too…"

"No, it's really not," he says. "How am I supposed to believe you now? After you've already gone back on your words on this before?"

"I hadn't seen her in forever," I say. "It was overwhelming. We didn't leave things on great terms; I didn't get closure. I don't even know if I have it now, but I do know that kissing her was a mistake. I shouldn't have done it, and I left right after. I was always going to tell you. I wasn't going to keep it from you."

He chews the inside of his cheek. "I don't know what you want me to say," he says. "Listen, you know how I feel about you, but this is immature, April. I have a child. I can't be with someone who's immature, I just can't."

"I'm not immature," I say. "Don't say that. You know it's not true."

"I didn't think it was until you told me you kissed your ex first thing upon seeing her," he says.

"It wasn't… oh, my god," I say. "We started talking about, I don't know, us. And I was remembering all the good times because that's how it goes after you've been away from someone. You remember all the good, and all the bad shit fades away. All the stuff that made you break up doesn't matter. All of a sudden, she was right there, and it was happening. But it was over fast. I am not immature, Jackson, I'm trying to figure myself out. I don't really know what it means to be bi - I mean, for me. I'm still learning. I was wrong about the virginity thing and I'm sure I'll be wrong about a lot more, too." I let loose a short, desperate gust of air. "But like I said! I want you by my side through those things. Through the hard times."

He shakes his head. "You expect me to stick around and wait while you kiss your ex? Do a few more trial runs while you guys reminisce?" He closes his eyes for a long moment then opens them again. "I'm sorry, April, but I'm not here for that."

"That's not what I'm saying at all," I argue. "You're not hearing me. I'm sorry that she and I kissed. I promise that it won't happen again, I swear. It was wrong and it was a betrayal of your trust. I ran to her because I knew she'd understand-"

"What makes you think I wouldn't have?" he asks. "If you don't tell me shit, how do you expect me to understand?"

"You weren't the right person to talk to about Steph," I say.

"Because you wouldn't let me," he says. "I wanted to listen. I wanted to hear the whole thing. But the only person you thought about was Izzie."

"No," I say. "No. I didn't want to tell you because it's too much backstory. I didn't want to burden you with it. She already knows it all, Izzie does."

"It wouldn't have been a burden!" he says. "I care about you, that means I care about your problems. Can't you see that I am head over heels for you?"

His words knock the wind out of me, strong and sure. His eyes are full of feeling, and my heart starts pumping hard and raucous against my sternum, like it wants to burst free. He's waiting for me to respond, to reciprocate, but my throat twists into a knot. The best I can do is show him – put my feelings across through actions – so I grip his face tight and kiss him with all I have.

We don't speak. We don't have to, because we both know what's about to happen and it's what we both want. When he pulls away to tear his shirt off, I do the same and don't waste time before unclipping my bra and tossing it behind me. He opens his mouth along my collarbones and grabs at my shoulder blades to keep me close, breathing against my skin in the loud, hot way that I love.

I sit up a little straighter so my breasts are in his face and he sucks on my nipples roughly, but only for a moment. After they're strained and soaked with saliva, he pushes me off of his lap so I'm flat against the back cushions of the couch, then lowers to his knees on the carpet. With his eyes locked on mine, he unbuttons and unzips my jeans, latches his fingers through the belt loops, then yanks them off in one fell swoop. He throws them over one shoulder and widens my knees, going for my underwear without pausing. After those are off and in a different corner of the living room, he pulls my hips forward and puts his mouth on my core, spreading my lips with his fingers to slip his tongue inside. "Fuck," I breathe, one hand on the back of his head. "Oh, god, yes."

He doesn't let me get too worked up, though, before he stands and strips the rest of the way down. After all of his clothes are gone, I can see that he has an insistent erection and it's ready for me, so I open up and welcome him on top of my body, pressing me back against the cushions as he covers me with his bulky frame.

When he sinks inside, I can't help but gasp and he doesn't let me get used to the feeling. I squeeze my eyes shut tight and dig my nails into the back of his rib cage, then tuck my face into the side of his neck as he thrusts into me. He goes hard and fast, full of passion and emotion as he claims my body, and I get lost in the way he feels. My mind is present for the first time in days and he wakes my body in a way I had no clue he could. I'm sure I must be leaving scratches on his skin, but that doesn't deter him in the slightest as he pumps his hips and works us both to climax - but his comes first this time. He shoves against me harder, stronger, at a more uneven rate, until his hips stop moving entirely and he stays buried to the hilt as an orgasm courses through his system. "Shit," he curses, forehead resting on my shoulder as heat spills inside me.

He's sweaty once it's over, but he doesn't let me go unfinished. Without saying a word, he sinks to his knees once again and throws my legs over his shoulders, flattening me onto my back as he eats me out. I keep one hand in his hair and the other over my mouth so I don't scream - I'm very aware of who's upstairs - and I literally see stars when I come. I lock my thighs around his head much in the way I did last time and he buries his nails in the outside of my thighs, slapping the skin soundly once I let him free. "God," I pant, one hand to my sweaty chest.

He showers my inner thighs with soft kisses, licking my legs, stomach, breasts, neck, until he reaches my mouth. He adjusts my body that's too spent to move and folds our limbs together, our foreheads pressed against one another, all the while watching me and seemingly waiting for my next move

I trace the slope of his jaw as I try and think of what to say. "I am sorry, you know," I say. "For kissing her. If I could take it back, I would. It's really not what I wanted. So, I'm sorry."

He nods, head moving against mine. I rest my hand on his cheek, stroking the apple of it. "Okay," he says.

"But I'm bisexual," I say. "Like, that's who I am. Sometimes, it feels like it counts less when I'm with a guy. I don't know if that makes sense and I still have to come to terms with it. Bi means two, guys and girls. Like, if I'm with a guy, I'm still bisexual." I trace the bridge of his nose all the way to the tip. "I have strong feelings for you," I say. "But if you're insecure about my sexuality, then it's not my problem. We can't be together if that's the case. I'll still be Athena's nanny, but… that's it."

"April," he says, forehead wrinkling. He takes my wrist and moves my hand away so he can look at me directly. "I don't know where you're getting the notion that I'm insecure about your sexuality, because I'm not. At all. What I'm insecure about is that you kissed your ex. Not that your ex is a girl." He looks at me with clear eyes - not laced with frustration or pretense. "You have to stop projecting. I want to be with you no matter how complicated you are or how complicated our relationship might be. But only if you want - and I mean really want - to be with me. So," he says, weaving his fingers through my hair. "Do you?"

I don't need time to think. After I close my eyes and give him another long, lasting kiss, I keep him close with a hand on his chest and say, "Yes. I really, really do."