Page 8 of Protecting the Nerd
His eyes widened. “Yeah. How did you…? Oh, you knew him.”
“I did. We served together.”
“Small world.”
“Within the Marines, yes. It’s a tight-knit group.”
His face tightened, and he clenched his fists as if fighting an inner battle. “Did you know him well?” he finally asked.
“We were in the same class as boots, but our roads separated when he became a sniper while I focused on combat leadership. But we ran into each other a few times while deployed.”
He blew out a long breath, his shoulders up to his ears. “If you have any pics of him or with him, my parents would appreciate them. They collect everything about Essex.”
Still? It had been over twenty years since he’d been killed. “I would have to check, but if I find anything, I’ll let you know.”
“They’ll appreciate it.”
“No problem.”
He turned his back toward me. “I have to get back to work.”
“Sure thing. I’ll step outside.”
He said nothing as I walked out and closed the door softly behind me. What was his deal? Had he hated his brother? They hadn’t been close, considering his reaction. Either that or York had been traumatized by his brother’s death and had emotionally distanced himself afterward, but I doubted it. The way he spoke about his parents was also revealing.
I had so many questions, but I was in no hurry to force the answers out of him. We’d be spending a lot of time together, and I was looking forward to it. York was different, fascinating. Smarter than any man I’d ever met, antisocial by his admission and that of his boss—even though I had doubts about that—and had I mentioned seriously hot?
It had been a long time since a man had pushed my buttons, but York had. He shouldn’t be attractive with his too-big ears, but they only reinforced his whole wounded, tortured look, though I didn’t think he did it on purpose. But man, those eyes…
He looked like this cute, sad little puppy in a cage in a shelter, staring at you, unsure whether to come to you and ask to be picked up and hugged or stay in its safe space because it knew you were gonna choose a different dog anyway, so why bother if it meant more rejection? And damn, I did want to hug him…and take him home.
Shit, this was getting complicated.
3
YORK
Ityped in the first code on my phone, hit the button, then the second code and button, and my front door unlocked.
“Home sweet home,” I muttered, though the words tasted like ash on my tongue.
“Julius was deeply impressed with your security system,” Quillon said as he gently held me back and went in first. Right. I’d have to get used to him doing things like that for me.
I hung my coat with mechanical precision as Quillon checked my apartment, scanning for threats in a way that made me feel like an intruder in my sanctuary. But it wasn’t until the red light of a newly installed camera blinked that reality punched me in the gut.
“Jesus.” My gaze flitted from one corner of the ceiling to another, each motion sensor and lens a glaring reminder of how life had suddenly swerved off course. The apartment felt smaller, the air thicker—a gallery of watchful eyes tracking my every move.
“I’m sorry.” Quillon’s voice was low, steady. “But since your apartment is on the second floor, we had no choice. The cameras and sensors are turned off when you’re home.”
That knowledge did little to quell the unease bubbling inside me. “Feels like Big Brother has decided to bunk with me.”
I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to shake off the discomfort clinging to me like a second skin.
“Better than an uninvited guest with less noble intentions.”
I couldn’t argue with that. Not really. I sighed, resigned to the cameras’ silent judgment. “Welcome to the panopticon. Hope you find the view riveting.”
Quillon looked puzzled. “The what?”