Page 52 of Protecting the Nerd

“You’re not angry?” he finally asked, and it dawned on me.

This wonderful, sweet man feared I was angry with him. He was scared he’d fucked up, that he’d done something that would make me reject him. Underneath all that nerdy brilliance beat the heart of a little boy desperate to be accepted…and loved. “No, nerdy, I’m not angry.”

“Nerdy?”

“I’ve decided I’m gonna call you that. It’s gonna be my pet name for you as your pretend boyfriend.”

He stood a little straighter. “Don’t I get a say?”

“Nope. This is my call. Executive decision.”

“Does that mean I get to come up with a pet name for you as well?”

“Sure, as long as it’s something sweet. ‘Overbearing asshole’ doesn’t have quite the same ring as nerdy.”

The smile that spread on his face was a reward in itself. “I’ll give it some thought.”

“You do that and let me know when you’ve come up with something.” I gently took the plate from his hands. “And leave the cooking to me, okay?”

“I can heat up a plate of food.”

“I know, but let me take care of you. Please?”

He slowly nodded. “Sorry.”

I didn’t ask what he was apologizing for. “It’s all good, nerdy. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll have dinner for you, okay?”

“Okay.”

He looked so forlorn that I couldn’t resist and pulled him in for a hug. The way he clung to me a little longer than appropriate told me he’d needed that. “I’ve got you, nerdy.”

“Thank you.”

“It was my pleasure.” And I had a feeling it always would be. Somehow, this man had crawled his way into my heart. What the fuck did I do now?

Stuff it down. Deep, deep down.

He. Was. A. Client.

17

YORK

Iwasn’t quite as straight as I had thought I was.

After a sleepless night and lots of tossing and turning, that was the only rational conclusion I could come to. I had spent hours analyzing what had happened, and when I’d had the courage to be honest with myself, I’d come to a few conclusions.

One, Quillon was insanely hot. I’d already thought him attractive with his clothes on, but naked, the man was a work of art. Like Michelangelo-level of perfect with that sculpted body.

Two, if I had been straight, I would’ve walked out of there faster than I could’ve said, “Sorry.” But I hadn’t. Not even realizing Quillon was masturbating had been enough to break through my…my stupor, my daze, my temporary moment of insanity mixed with a high dose of rudeness. Anyone else would’ve gotten the fuck out of that bathroom, but not me. And after much deliberating, the only explanation that seemed plausible to explain my behavior was that I was not straight.

Three, I was attracted to Quillon. Maybe I should’ve put this conclusion before the other one because the fact that I was attracted to Quillon meant I wasn’t straight, but it wasn’t the order in which I had reached said verdict. Granted, one could argue my reasoning was a circular one, but whatever. For once, I didn’t care about the validity of the argument. My concern was the rightness of the conclusion.

I was a man who always prioritized rationality over emotions, and in this case, my brain couldn’t put into words what I felt in my…heart? Soul? I’d never allowed my feelings to win over my mind, but I had no other choice. Whereas my brain kept running in circles, my heart knew the truth.

Fir had once explained the concept of “gay for you,” which had always seemed silly to me. You were straight or you weren’t, and the idea that one could be straight their entire life and turn gay for one specific man seemed not credible to me. But now I had to admit that maybe that was what had happened to me—just like it had for Auden when he’d fallen for Keaton.

Around two in the morning, unable to sleep, I’d decided to test it by watching some gay porn. Yes, I had gotten aroused, but that was a mere physical reaction. I wasn’t attracted to those men. If I’d run into them and they’d asked me out or whatever gay men did—asked for a hookup, maybe?—I would’ve refused. Then I did some more research and looked at pictures of who were arguably the hottest men alive—though I left out Tomás and Tiago because hello, awkward much?—and again, nothing.

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