Page 34 of The Build-a-Boyfriend Project

“I’m here to help you, to teach you how to be a better boyfriend to someone. And to do that, you’re going to have to face some insecurities. Nothing that I’m going to say to you will be personal,” Eli promises to him, but then backtracks. “I mean, it will be personal. There’s really no denying that. But you can’t really take it that way.”

Peter seems to chew on the words for a bit. “So, honesty is the best policy?”

“In this case, I think yes,” Eli agrees. “I have to be honest with you. And that goes both ways. If you have a problem with something I say or what I want you to do, I need you to tell me. I’m not trying to change you as a person.”

“You literally are, though. Aren’t you?”

“There’s a difference,” Eli attempts to explain. “We’re trying to make you into a better dater, which . . . yeah, sure, we’re going to have to change some things about how you behave, how you tackle certain situations. But I don’t want to fundamentally change who you are.”

“That’s . . . admirable.”

Eli smiles at him. “Chivalry isn’t totally dead.” Never mind that Eli is lying to both Peter and Michael.

“So, with these dates . . . do we pretend that we don’t know what’s going on? Like do we try to act as natural as possible?”

“I think we should have a safe word.”

“A safe word . . .” Peter swallows, the very tips of his ears turning rose red in an instant. “There’s not going to be sex, right?” He whispers that last part, almost like he’s ashamed. Eli can’t stop himself from wondering if Peter’s ever had sex before.

Not that it matters in the slightest. Virginity is a social construct, an invention meant to shame people when it literally doesn’t matter at all. It’s just that he can’t get over how Peter seems so quiet about sex, almost as if he’s afraid of it.

Of course, that doesn’t have to matter either. For all he knows, Peter is asexual. Perhaps he’s never considered sex as a thing he wants, maybe he’s indifferent about it, or maybe he’s entirely repulsed by the act.

It’s enough to leave Eli chewing on what that could mean for them both.

“God, no!” Eli assures him. “That’s not what this is about.”

“Oh, I, um . . .” Peter’s nervousness is on full display, his cheeks matching his ears. Eli decides to spare the poor man, skipping right past any and all awkwardness.

“No, this safe word is one that we both can use to break character, talk about what’s happening, if we’re both comfortable with what’s going on. Otherwise, we’ll act like complete strangers, getting to know each other, no prior knowledge of . . .” Eli looks around the coffee shop, as if the living example of the mess his life has turned into just strolled right in. “This.”

“So, we’ll be acting?”

“In a sense.” Eli nods. “Yes.”

“What’s the safe word?”

“It can be anything we want, maybe not something so common it’ll come up in conversation often.”

“Iced Americano?” Peter offers.

“Iced Americano?” Eli repeats, staring at him.

“I hate them,” Peter says, sticking his tongue out. “So, I won’t want to talk about them.”

Eli can’t help but smile. “Yes. Our safe word, or words, will be ‘iced Americano.’ If either of us says that, then we stop what we’re doing, talk Eli-to-Peter about the situation.”

“I have a question,” Peter asks.

“Give it to me.”

“What if we develop real feelings?”

“Whoa, okay,” Eli sputters. “I think you’re getting ahead of yourself there, tiger.” Sure, Peter is an attractive man, with his broad shoulders that so easily paint a picture of what lies underneath the sweatshirt he’s wearing, but Eli doesn’t intend to go there.

“That’s not what I was—” he stammers. The blush on Peter’s cheeks is immediate, and Eli can’t deny that there’s something cute about how embarrassed he looks. “I didn’t mean it like—”

“Relax, Peter.” Eli reaches for his hand, hoping to pull Peter back down to Earth. “I was just messing with you.”