“And what’s Landon’s baggage, exactly?”

  “Well, his family sucks, and they don’t say I love you very much or at all. And Landon’s last relationship was based off of purity culture on steroids. He said ‘I love you,’ but he didn’t feel it. So, he isn’t even sure what feeling like being in love with someone is let alone saying it out loud and meaning it.”

  We all had our things, right? Things that held us back in our life and our relationships. Everyone had some trauma to bring to the table.

  I don’t think either of us was prepared to be in this place with someone else. Dating apps worked, but how often did they actually do their fucking job?

  “So, he feels like he doesn’t know how to identify what being in love feels like because he has never felt it before?” Fatima repeated.

  “Exactly, and I really hate when people are like ‘When you know, you know.’ Which is partially true sometimes but, like, really fucking unhelpful if you are on the unknowing side,” I said, stabbing at my food aggressively again.

  “And Landon says thank you a lot for me accepting who he is and Ella, and I don’t know. I don’t want him to be grateful for that in terms of, like, he doesn’t need my approval, you know? A decent human being should just love and accept people. Like, I don’t want to get praised for simply loving who I am with, you know?”

  “Mhmm,” Fatima said as I continued to steamroll.

  “And, sometimes, Landon will ask me who I prefer between Ella and Landon, and, truly, I don’t know what to say. I don’t have a preference because Landon and Ella are the same person with a different exterior package. I just want the inside. The outside doesn’t mean anything to me except that it matters to Landon, and I just want him to be happy. Like, if he woke up tomorrow and said ‘I want to transition to Ella,’ I would say ‘Great!’ And that would be great and fine, and I don’t know—I think I am just scared for what ‘I love you’ will do to these nuances, you know? And I want Landon to say it because he wants to, not because I said it first . . .”

  A lot was on my heart, and I was still figuring it all out. Especially since our friends had met, and we had been seeing each other for a few months. Things were getting serious, but Landon struggled with labels and the other L-word. I was fine to slap on a label and to say “I love you” when I meant it.

  “I think it’s normal and natural to work through some of these relational anxieties when you’re in a new space, especially because you are working through your queer identity. It’s okay not to have all the answers. The important thing is that you both communicate and are honest about how you want to do things in the future together. Everyone has their own time, and I would encourage you to be open about your reservations,” Fatima said, reaching over and squeezing my fingertips.

  “Yeah . . .”

  “AND it’s also okay to be really freaking excited and not worry so much because you both line up on all the important things. So, celebrate that you are in love, E! This is huge, and you do seem happy.” Her eyes became misty. “It’s nice to see someone treating you the way you should be treated.”

  “I agree,” I said, smiling. “Can we stop talking about feelings and mushy stuff now?”

  Laughing, she nodded. “Okay, why don’t you tell me about the new studios you are working at and how your schedule is looking? Are you doing okay? You know I worry about your boundaries.”

  “Yes, I know, but you’ve been doing a very good job of checking and helping me articulate them because you rule.”

  I ran her through what was going on in my life and my schedules and how the worries of the last few months drifted further away. My grandpa, being single, my STI status . . . Things felt good, and I just hoped they would continue to be that way for at least a couple more months.

  As I was headed home to lay on my couch and rest on my only day off, Landon called.

  “I think we should go on a trip together,” Landon said.

  “Sure. Where do you want to go?” I said, trying to think of somewhere desirable.

  “What about Iowa?”

  “I think it’s a no from me . . .”

  “Jeez, that was a quick rejection. How about somewhere in Nebraska?”

  “Considering my whole family is from Nebraska, and I very much dislike them, I am thinking we take another route. What about Arkansas? They have really great hiking!” I said.

  “But you’ve been there before, and I think it would be fun to go somewhere neither of us have been,” Landon whined.

  “I can literally see your pouty face,” I said through giggles.

  “I don’t have a pouty face,” he replied, gasping.

  “You absolutely do. You stick your bottom lip out and furrow your brows, and it looks almost identical to grumpy cat,” I said, envisioning it.

  He laughed. “Okay, so maybe I make a face but back to the task at hand!”

  “Right, well, I’ve been to most places that are in driving distance of Kansas City, I think.”

  “Okay, I’ll pull up a map and see what we are working with.”

  There was a bit of silence and shuffling as I pulled up into my apartment complex and sat patiently in the car, waiting for whatever idea Landon had in mind.

  “Okay, so Oklahoma?” Landon asked.

  “I’ve never spent time in Oklahoma, so sure. Why not? Tulsa is the bigger city, right?” I said and typed it in to Google Maps.

  “It’s four hours away, which feels like a good warm-up trip, you know?” Landon said.

  I giggled again. “A warm-up trip?”

  “Yeah, like all couples should go on a trip before they commit to doing life stuff together, you know. Because you start to learn all these fun weird things about one another.”

  “Is this, like, an official list or test that I don’t know about that needs to happen before you can have a label on it all?” I teased.

  “I mean, not an official one, but I think it’s a good thing to do.”

  “Either way, test or no test, I would like to go on a trip together. I think it will be fun! Plus, I’m sure Tulsa has some weird, fun things to do, you know?” I said, getting out of my car and making my way up to my apartment.

  “Okay, I want to do the planning,” Landon said confidentially.

  “Why’s that?”

  My dream was to have someone plan a trip for me, and I didn’t realize it would come to fruition so quickly. No one had ever planned something like this for me. I was the planner, usually. I had a Google calendar that would make most people cry. But it was my pride and joy. My trophy of organizational prowess proving I could juggle a million things at once.

  “I just want to because I know it would make you feel good and then, the next trip, you can plan for me so we both don’t have to be the planners all the time. Does that sound okay?”

  “I am more than happy to trade off planning. No one has really offered to do that before. Usually, it’s just assumed that I will handle it. So, it’s nice not to have to do it,” I said.

  “Okay, I will send you a spreadsheet with details and options for what we want to do in the next couple of days,” Landon said proudly.

  “Okay, I look forward to seeing it,” I smiled into the phone.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay.”

  “I am gonna hang up now,” I said.

  “Okay, you do that,” Landon replied.

  “Okay, bye. I lo—”

  It almost slipped right out, and I nearly cursed Fatima right then and there for it being at the forefront of my mind.

  “I’ll see you later,” I rushed out, then ended the call, staring at my phone.

  Holy fuck.

  I needed a nap or something because I was losing my mind.

  CHAPTER Twenty-Seven

  "This drive is pretty bleak . . .” I said as we were speeding down a boring-looking highway.

  “Yeah, I wouldn’t say this is that exciting, besides the fact that I get to spend four hours with you,” Landon said, winking.

  “Whatever,” I said, rolling my eyes and smiling. “I do appreciate you driving, though. I feel like I drive all over the city all the time, and it’s truly lovely for someone else to do this right now. I hardly ever get to relax when I am busting my ass studio to studio.” I sighed and leaned my seat back. I could totally get used to being a passenger princess.

  “Is this what you want to do for the rest of your life, or do you dream of doing something else?” Landon asked.

  It was a good question, but I didn’t know.

  “I know a lot of what I don’t want to do. As in, I don’t want to actually manage my own studio. I love being able to set my own schedule hours and not be micromanaged. I love not sitting at a desk. But, then again, I don’t love the hustle all the time. Or using my body as my money maker. Or certain places I struggle with the clientele.” I slowly pulled my seat back up and pursed my lips. “I think I like this right now, and I’m open to other possibilities within my already established likes and dislikes, if that makes sense. I don’t want to be specifically tied down from nine to five, but I need something semi-regular.” I bent a knee and pulled up a foot to my seat.

  “How about you? Do you want to do freelance videography and influencing for the rest of your life?” I gave him a little poke in the shoulder.

  “Hey! Don’t harass the driver,” he said playfully.

  “You’re fine. Just answer the question!”

  “I think I am in the same boat as you. I don’t know exactly what this will turn into, but I am open to the possibilities. I love the flexibility and responsibility of being my own boss. But, typically, the way to keep moving forward is to get a team, have employees, and I don’t know if I want that. Maybe I just want to be a contractor forever, or maybe I don’t. I’m still figuring it out, you know?”

  I nodded. I did know. Not everyone got that the typical American Dream wasn’t satisfying. But Landon did, and he even felt it, too.

  “And the influencer stuff?”

  “It’s my creative outlet. I think my dream would be to get paid to just be Ella. But then does that just make it a costume to other people? I think that’s where I struggle. Because it’s not a costume for me or like a TV personality. When I am Ella, I just feel so good. It feels right, and it makes sense, and it makes me sad whenever I have to come back to being this,” he said, gesturing with one hand to his body.

  “So, who’s to say that you can’t channel the things that make you feel good in feminine all the time?”

  “Because the binary of Ella and Landon are easy for people. Easy for me . . .” Landon said, getting quiet. “But, with you . . . things are starting to blend in a way that I never felt like I had given myself permission for. It’s starting to feel okay to add feminine touches to my everyday life, and I don’t have to have a full face of makeup and hair and an outfit and a camera to be validated in that. But the boxes made sense. And I don’t know what to do outside of that. Am I just a straight guy that’s fucking with masculinity? Or genderfluid? Or some version of trans? I just . . . I don’t know what to do with it. And I have some gender dysphoria but probably never enough to get bottom surgery. But the idea of having top surgery and actually having breasts sounds like a dream come true . . . And I don’t know. I am confused most of the time and then I try not to confuse others, and in the end, I just get stuck sometimes.”

  I placed my hand on Landon’s thigh and gave a gentle squeeze. “Thank you for sharing all of that. I don’t think you have to have it all figured out, and people can be as confused as they need to be. You don’t owe them an explanation. There is no right way to do this, and who says you have to commit to an identity? You’re allowed to do what simply feels good and right in the moment and take it step by step.”

  He gave me a sweet smile, and I gave his thigh one last squeeze. “That doesn’t bother you? Or freak you out? That, one day, I could change my mind?” He looked almost afraid of the answer.

  “No, I like all the gooey bits of you inside, and I want you to be happy with who you are and what fits right. I will happily be by your side as you navigate it.”

  “Okay, thank you for the validation.” Landon exhaled.

  “Of course, beautiful,” I said, smiling. “Now, let me look at this wonderful itinerary you whipped up and scope out all the fun things Tulsa has to offer!” I said.

  We chatted about what Landon had found. We would only be there for an evening and then drive back late the next day. But it would be our first overnight adventure outside of Kansas City together, and I was ready to tackle Tulsa with Landon by my side and see what sort of trouble we could get into.

  Upon arriving at the hotel, I was stunned.

  “Wow, this hotel is so nice!” I said as we stepped foot into where we would stay for the evening.

  It was a boutique hotel with black-and-white tiles, velvet furniture in the lobby, and high lofted ceilings with crystal chandeliers.

  “How did you find this gem?” I asked as Landon came back from the check-in desk with our room keys.

  “Well, Google is free.”

  “Yeah, thanks, smart ass.” I chuckled as we made our way to the elevator.

  The room got the same reaction from both of us. It was a suite with a large king-size bed, full bathtub, living space, and mini bar.

  “Okay, but, actually, this is too much,” I said, looking around, noticing the fantastic view we had from our windows.

  “No, it’s not. Just let me do this thing, and we can split the rest of things fifty-fifty if it feels good,” Landon said, looking pleased with himself.

  “Okay, deal. And only because you make more money than me, and I like you a lot,” I said, giving his butt a pat.

  He squealed. “Hey!”

  “You liked it,” I replied with another slap.

  “Anyway . . . first up on the agenda is dinner, then this fun little place for drinks and then some fun back in our room,” Landon said, sitting on the bed, scrolling through what what I had assumed was his Excel spreadsheet on his phone.

  “I am so grateful for your planning skills and Excel sheet and even more looking forward to what this evening entails,” I said, hauling my duffel bag on top of the bed, then unzipping.

  “You’re welcome,” he said, leaning over to kiss my cheek.

  “Okay, let’s get this party started!” I said, throwing random pieces of clothing on the bed to rifle through and decide what I would wear that night.

  By the end of the hour, we had Lizzo on full blast, and the hotel room looked like a retail store had exploded, but we looked great. I had on a black body con dress and a little scarf around my throat. My hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, and I was giving sexy flight attendant vibes. I was a little taller than him with my strappy black heels on.

  Landon had chosen black skinny jeans, black cloth booties, a black blazer, and a sparkling white blouse underneath. His hair was straightened, and he had a dusting of lip gloss and mascara.

  “Aren’t we so cute?” I said, looking at ourselves in the mirror.

  “So cute!” Landon said, leaning into me. I wrapped my arm around him and smiled.

  “Let’s go eat something fabulous!”

  We ended up at this adorable farm-to-table restaurant, and Landon had brought a disposable camera. The poor waiter took at least four photos of us as he was struggling to figure out how to operate “such an old thing,” and Landon and I could barely stop our laughing.

  It was nice to go out, have everything planned, and actually feel like I could relax. I realized I hadn’t sat and breathed in a long time, having not left the city in a while, and I didn’t realize how desperately I needed a break.

  “Thank you again for planning all this. No one has ever done that before, and I look forward to returning the favor sometime soon,” I said, clinking my wine glass to his.

  “Sure thing. I’m more than happy to trade off.”

  “How are you feeling about this? About us? I know neither of us really ever thought that dating apps would work, but here we are nonetheless.” I sat back and sipped on my red.

  “I feel really grateful that Bumble brought us together. I don’t know how we would have found each other otherwise. And I am glad that we talked about a lot of the hard stuff on the first date. It made this feel really good from the start.”

  “Can I ask you another hard question?”

  “Let’s hear it.”

  “How do you feel about putting a label on us? I mean, I’m not seeing anyone else, and I don’t really want to,” I said, trying to gauge his reaction.

  Labels were hard, and I wasn’t sure how this conversation was gonna go.

  “I know labels are easier for you. I don’t want to see anyone else, so I like the label of exclusive but ‘partner’ or ‘girlfriend’ or ‘boyfriend’ still feels a little out of reach for me right now. It’s something I need to unpack because I feel like it’s a serious commitment. Is that okay?” he said, looking worried.

  “I am totally fine with being exclusive for right now. I just want this to be an open and ongoing conversation, as, eventually, I would like a label. But I am okay to go at your pace for right now. Let’s promise to update one another if anything changes and to check back in on this topic every once in a while. Deal?”

  “Deal.”

  “Okay, now let’s get out of here to get some drinks at that rooftop bar and then have our much anticipated dessert,” I said, winking.