The Geek and His Artist by Hope Ryan

Author:Hope Ryan
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2015-06-04T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

FOR THE first time in his life, Jimmy found himself glad when he couldn’t sleep. He’d stayed awake through the night quite a bit over the course of the school year. First thinking about Simon, wanting to know him. Then from worrying about him and getting him out of The Bastard’s house.

Jimmy stared at the ceiling above his bed, his mind in a million different directions, trying to process what had happened that day. There was so much, he wasn’t sure how to sort it out. Simon had been welcomed by his family, they’d eaten together, and sat through more than a few veiled comments about them getting married. They’d given each other blowjobs—Jimmy tried not to think too much about those or he’d end up really uncomfortable. And somehow he didn’t feel quite right, jacking off while his boyfriend lay in the bed just down the hall.

His boyfriend was in a bed down the hall.

Since the first time he’d heard The Bastard shout at Simon and he had just a tiny inkling of what Simon dealt with at home, he’d wanted to get Simon out of that situation. He’d been frustrated, worried—no, terrified—but he hadn’t really been prepared for the reality of it. And he hated how it came about.

Simon lay in the bed down the hall with a broken ankle.

Rage at The Bastard boiled under the surface, and it took all Jimmy had to keep it contained. If he had any clue where the man was, Jimmy would hunt the asshole down and beat him within an inch of his life. And Jimmy knew five people who would cheerfully help him. But he didn’t know where The Bastard was. And he knew it wouldn’t solve anything. He had to focus on helping Simon through this, because if he was nuts over the abrupt shift, Simon had to be damned near insane.

Jimmy rubbed his face hard and rolled, looking out the door at the slightly darker rectangle of his mother’s office—now Simon’s room. A need to be near Simon, strong in a way he didn’t understand, pulled at him. He held himself in check, stayed in his bed, because he didn’t want to wake Simon. But he felt like he had to just sit over Simon, watch him, even in sleep. Like he had to do something to reassure himself that Simon was okay, would be okay.

He felt… oddly young then. He was less than a month away from his eighteenth birthday. He was a grown man, but so many of these emotions confused him. The need to protect, the need to reassure himself, the want to just touch and hold. He didn’t understand them, and certainly not why they were so strong. And if he was being honest, and since it was—he stopped to check the clock—2:00 a.m., he figured he should be honest with himself, he was a little scared too.

His feelings for Simon had hit so fast and so hard. He could admit the infatuation had been there for a good long while.

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