Page 27 of Protecting the Nerd

“I think Gabe already suspects there’s more to you staying here than meets the eye.”

“Probably. He’s smart and sees a lot, like his dad.”

“You’re close with him.”

Another look of surprise. “I guess I am. He’s a great kid. Teenager.”

“I hadn’t expected you to like kids.”

“Oh, I don’t like kids. I like teenagers. They’re unflinchingly honest, and I can appreciate that. They haven’t mastered the art of pretending yet, and what you see is what you get. Makes it so much easier.”

While we walked around, I gathered various products while York grabbed a twelve-pack of Coke and a bar of milk-hazelnut chocolate. Low maintenance indeed. “I’m making risotto tonight,” I said.

“Isn’t that super hard to make?”

“Not at all, but you do have to keep an eye on it. And it’s totally worth the effort.”

“Okay. If you want to cook, I’m not gonna say no. It beats the hell out of ready-to-eat meals.”

I shuddered. “Those are so unhealthy, if only for the enormous amounts of sodium.”

York looked guilty. “That’s what Fir keeps telling me. But I don’t have much choice when I’m here. It’s not like I can eat at Fir’s every night.”

He didn’t mention his parents as an option, and I couldn’t blame him after what I’d witnessed. I lowered my voice. “As long as we’re here, I’ll cook. I don’t mind.”

“You’re sure? ‘Cause you don’t get paid to cook for me, just to protect me.”

“We’ll say I protect your health as well.” I bumped his shoulder.

York’s mouth curled up in a smile, and my heart skipped a few beats. Making him smile was rapidly becoming a major goal.

I was in trouble. Deep, deep trouble.

9

YORK

When I pushed open the door of the Double F bar, a blast of warmth and noise welcomed us into its dimly lit interior. Quillon was right behind me, his hand resting lightly on my lower back—a gesture that guided and reassured me.

“Looks like everyone else is already here.” I pointed past the packed dance floor and the rowdy pool players to a table in the back where I spotted my…friends? What should I label them? They’d been Essex’s friends, not mine, but ever since I’d told them about Essex bullying me, they’d invited me to hang out with them. Probably out of pity, but I still accepted. Yes, I was that person who accepted crumbs of affection if that was all he could get. Pride was for people who could afford it.

“Ready?” Quillon asked, his voice a steady thrum that matched the bass line pulsing from the speakers.

“Let’s do this.” I squared my shoulders, the weight of his gaze like a physical touch.

Excited faces turned toward us, and Tiago was the first to stand, his smile broad and genuine. He and Tomás had returned from Brazil that morning.

“York! So glad to see you.”

He gave me a hug, which I accepted awkwardly, and as soon as we were done, Tomás took his place. Both Tiago and Tomás were huggers—probably because of their half-Brazilian heritage.

Auden slapped my shoulder, and Marnin sent me a brief, though friendly nod. I waved at Cas, Tiago’s boyfriend, and then obliged Fir with another hug. He gave good hugs, squeezing tight enough to make me feel seen and brief enough not to make it too awkward.

“Everyone, this is Quillon.” I took Quillon’s hand without thinking about it. “My boyfriend.”

A collective “Oooh” rippled through the group, followed by playful elbows and knowing looks.

“Hey there,” Quillon said with a smile.

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