Page 53 of Protecting the Nerd

I wasn’t attracted to men. I was attracted to Quillon. Sure, that still made me not straight, which I was fine with. Or bisexual. Also, not a problem. I didn’t care about the label. The implications, however, were a different matter. Maybe I’d need to lose another night of sleep pondering the consequences.

Or I could tell him.

For once in my life, I reacted on impulse and called Fir, who picked up quickly, like he always did.

“Everything okay?” he asked. “You don’t usually call in the middle of the day.”

“It’s ten-thirty in the morning. That’s not the middle of the day.”

He chuckled. “It is for me, honey.”

He had a point. The man got up at the ass crack of dawn. “I have a question.”

“I’m between patients, so hit me with it.”

“Is it possible I’m attracted to Quillon?”

“Yes.”

“That was quick.”

“Not a complicated question.”

“I saw him naked yesterday.”

Fir whistled softly. “Well, that would do the job, I’d think. That man is gorgeous.”

“He was masturbating.”

“Jesus, York, what the hell?”

I sighed and explained what had happened. “I couldn’t walk away from him. Even when he turned his back toward me, I had to force myself to walk out of that bathroom.”

“What did you want to do instead?”

“Touch him. Run my hands all over his wet body and explore him. Get naked and jump into the shower with him.”

“Yeah, that definitely qualifies as attraction.”

“I’m not attracted to other men, though. I watched some porn and looked up pics of hot men, but they did nothing for me. It’s Quillon I want.”

“If you ask me, you’re not primarily attracted to his body. It may have been the trigger for you to realize you like him, but it’s not the reason.”

“What do you mean?”

“How long have you been living with him now? Four weeks?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Tell me what he’s done for you in that time other than protect you.”

“I’m not?—”

“He cooks for you, right? And he makes sure you eat?”

A warmth rushed over me. “He does. Every morning, he makes this hearty breakfast because he knows I’ll skip lunch and wants me to eat well. He gets me healthy snacks too. Like, I’m working, and suddenly, a cup of tea with some cashew nuts lands on my desk. Every night, he cooks dinner. He’s a great cook. The other day, he made this amazing risotto, and I love it when he makes Thai food. When I fall asleep in my chair or on the couch, he covers me with a blanket. And he thinks I don’t know, but he sleeps in front of my bedroom door every night on a simple mat on the floor. He doesn’t fall asleep until I do, and he’s up before me.”

Even as I was talking, the truth of my words sank in. Quillon had been taking such great care of me. More than a friend would have. He’d gone above and beyond.

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