Page 38 of Catcher's Lock
The idea sends a spiral of panic up my spine, but underneath it—in the better core of myself that I’m an expert at ignoring—I know she’s right. I’m notsureof anything, and Ihateit.
Because I can get possessive when it comes to him with other guys, but it’s pretty obvious that possessiveness stems from my own issues. Which means I can’t with any kind of conscience keep him to myself forever if I’m never gonna give him what hewants.
Fear of losing someone isn’t the same asattraction, and it’s not the kind of love my mom’s talking about.
My dick is just a drama queen.
13
Jeremy
Gemiah
Age 24 (Now)
Ione hundred percent jerk off in the shower.
It helps clear my head—or maybe the first dose I took is starting to wear off. Either way, I’m barely wobbling when I gather my polluted clothes and head back toward my couch purgatory with a fluffy pink towel wrapped around my hips.
Josha is standing in the dark at the end of the hallway, and my heart does a startled leap in my chest.
I should have saved that hard-on.
“Who the fuck are you?”
That’s not Josha. The delusional hope shatters.
“Hi, Jeremy.”
He flicks on the overhead light, and I squint in the sudden brightness.
“Gem?”
“In the flesh.” Maybe too much of it, given thedubious way Josha’s little brother eyes my bare chest.
“What are you doing in my mom’s house?” he asks. “I thought you were dead or something.”
“Sorry to disappoint. You cool if I put some clothes on?” I gesture to the room behind him, where my clean laundry beckons. He lets me pass and follows me into the living room.
“You’re here with Josha? I saw his truck out front.”
“My knight in shining armor.”
“Jesus.” He shakes his head. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised he came running at the first sign of your resurrection. He’s such a sucker when it comes to you.”
I wish. Jeremy has always been a little twitchy about his brother’s sexual orientation, though, so I squash the impulse to make some comment about usingsuckandcomein the same sentence.
“Pretty sure he hates me now,” I say instead, tugging on a pair of gray sweatpants before dropping the towel. “But I’m working on it.”
He glances at the folded blankets piled on the couch. “Looks like you’re killing it. He’s in my bed, I assume?”
“You’re welcome to the couch if you’d rather not share.”
“Nice try. I’m guessing there’s a reason he left you out here.”
I can’t argue with that.
“Cute that you’re all protective now.” Since I’m obviously not sneaking my way into Josha’s bed tonight, I start spreading the blankets. “Unless you’re worried we’ll get up to some ‘gay stuff’ in your room?”
