Jamie Brodie 02 - Hoarded to Death

your behalf. Did you get any counseling after it happened?"
    "Yeah. My dad found a woman in Palmdale who specialized in sexual abuse. By the time I graduated from high school, she had gotten me to see that it wasn't my fault, and that I shouldn't feel guilty about it, and that there wasn't anything wrong with my attraction to men. But it took a lot longer - years longer - before I was ready to let anyone even touch me, much less actually go to bed with a guy."
    "Was Luke the first guy you went to bed with?"
    "Yeah. And even once I started seeing him, it took another couple of years before I could work my way up to anal sex with him. Fortunately he wasn't a big fan of it anyway, so he didn't think anything was strange about it."
    "You never told him what happened to you?"
    "No."
    "You were together four years, and you never told him?"
    "No." Pete took a long drink from his beer. "Anyway, the point is, I’ve been in counseling since I was 14, and it's taken me this long to be completely comfortable with having the kind of sex life that we have now. I know you want more, but...I can't. I don't think I'll ever be able to."
    My heart sank. I'd thought that, eventually, I'd be able to talk Pete into taking tu rns. I’d been counting on that.
    Pete slumped back against the loveseat cushions. "You look like your dog just died. What we have isn't going to be enough for you, is it?"
    I slumped back too. "I...I promised you last night that it would be."
    "But now you don't know if you can keep that promise."
    "I'm going to keep it."
    Pete leaned forward again. "The first time we dated, we were together for eight months, and you never said anything about it."
    "Yeah, but we weren't living together then. We only spent a couple of nights a week together. Now here we are, together every night…"
    "Yeah. Okay." He suddenly looked exhausted. And older.
    I stood up and held out my hand. "C'mon. Let's go get some sleep."
    He took my hand and I pulled him up. He staggered a little. "Whoa. The beer's hitting me."
    "Yeah." I slid my arm around his waist and slung his arm across my shoulders. "Here. Let me drag you upstairs."
    He laughed a little. "Usually this is the other way around."
    "Hey. What are you saying?" I poked him in the ribs a little.
    He just shook his head. We staggered up the stairs. Pete passed out pretty quickly, but it took me a lot longer to fall asleep.
    I wasn’t going to be able to adapt to this without some help. I had to learn how to deal with the frustration I felt without taking it out on Pete. When I got back to work after the holidays, I was going to find a counselor of my own.

    Christmas morning, I wanted to be on the road by eight, so we had to get up early. Pete was hung over and grouchy. I set out the aspirin bottle and otherwise left him alone while I loaded the Jeep. He finally rallied enough to take a shower, get dressed and get in the car. By the time we got to Irvine, he’d drunk a bottle of Coke and taken a couple more aspirin, and was apparently starting to feel somewhat human again. He reached over and patted my leg. “Merry Christmas.”
    I glanced at him and smiled. “Merry Christmas.” I’d let him take the lead in the conversation.
    He didn’t say anything else for a minute. Then, “Do you realize, this is our first real Christmas together?”
    When we’d dated before, we’d only been together a couple of months at Christmas, and we’d agreed to spend the holidays separately, with our respective families. “Yeah, you’re right. First one we’re spending together.”
    He suddenly jerked upright, then winced. Probably jarred his head. “Oh, shit .”
    “What?”
    “I forgot your presents. Shit! ”
    We were spending a couple of nights at my dad’s, since there was no rush to get back. Neither of us had to go back to work until January 2. We’d planned to exchange our own gifts last night, but that plan kind of got swept away by Pete’s revelation. “Were they all under the tree? Because if they were, I got them.”
    He gazed at me in adoration. “Yeah. They were. Oh my God, thank you.”
    I shrugged, and gave him a sideways smile. “I was getting yours, so I figured I’d pick mine up at the same time.”
    “ God . I’m sorry.”
    “For what?”
    “Being hung over. Drinking so much last night. Being such a shitty person that I didn’t even remember your presents.”
    “Don’t apologize. That’s why we have two brains, right? So when one of us forgets something,