Private Eye by SE Culpepper

Author:SE Culpepper
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, sexy, humorous, masculine, gay for you, gfy, mm private detective, coming out story
Publisher: SE Culpepper

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Jeremy leaned heavily against the screen door as Rafe took care of unlocking his house. His head wasn’t hurting too bad, but he was definitely on the woobie side. Funny, he figured that right about now they’d be sitting down to dinner and he would be struggling with the words to say to Rafe that he might have a crush on him. Or that he did have a crush on him. Okay—so he wanted to give Tracey’s plan of laying one on Rafe a try the longer he was next to him.

“Where’s your first aid stuff? Do you have anything around?” Rafe asked as he finally got the door opened and stepped out of the way so Jeremy could go in front of him.

“Band-Aids, maybe some gauze,” he mumbled, walking very slowly to the kitchen table and trying not to touch anything with his bloody fingers.

“Sit tight, I’ll take a look.” Rafe left the kitchen in a hurry and Jeremy listened as he banged around in the bathroom. “You have a blow-dryer?” he shouted at one point and Jeremy moaned. “All you need is Aquanet and you’ll be like half my graduating class.”

“You’re older than I thought, then.”

Jeremy shrugged out of his jacket and slumped down in his seat, closing his eyes against the light hanging above the table. How did he end up here exactly? One minute he’s having a casual, if stilted, conversation and the next everybody’s yelling, Rafe’s dad is throwing blows, and his face is running interference. It was fucking tragic. At least he wasn’t nervous anymore; head trauma pretty much killed the mood. If he confessed his little issues now, Rafe would think he was concussed.

It didn’t matter how many times he’d been slugged in his life, which didn’t actually add up to many, but that shit from good old Papa Bridges hurt like a mother fucker. His brow and temple were doing a low level throb with each heartbeat and he was pretty sure the towel he was pressing to the cut was glued to his head now. It’d be a real treat to rip it off. A perfect way to end the day.

“Found it all,” Rafe announced as he came back into the kitchen. Jeremy cracked his eyes open and watched as his friend rolled up his sleeves. His fingers were still covered in dried blood. Jeremy’s blood.

“I brought you some ibuprofen; it should help with the swelling.” Rafe wasn’t saying much and even with the flimsy jokes, Jeremy could tell he was sick over what happened. It made his stomach ache hearing the pain in his voice.

Rafe filled a glass from the counter with water and dropped the pills into his hand. “Take them,” he ordered, passing off the glass.

Jeremy silently did as he was told, hoping it would kick in fast and keep him from looking too much like he’d face planted into the front end of a Buick. He was aware of Rafe pulling up a chair and scooting in close, but he was back to the eyes clamped shut routine, all his anxiety on the job again.

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