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Either Jeremy doesn’t hear me, or he ignores me, because he goes on to say, without missing a beat, “And I sure as hell don’t need you protecting me from hot guys who wanna fuck my brains out.”
My brows fly up, my spiraling thoughts momentarily forgotten.
“Don’t treat me like I’m some damsel in distress, just because I had a hard time of it growing up. I’ve had enough people infantilize and emasculate me my whole fucking life.” There’s a pause, before he adds as if an afterthought. “And women can handle themselves too, for the record. The whole straight, cis savior act is so last century.”
I wince. Fair.
Eyes burning, I have to swallow a couple times before I can find my voice. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I just don’t want you to get hurt.” My word pitch low, threaded with some emotion I don’t want to examine too closely.
Whatever it is has him exhaling into the phone, his voice turning almost gentle when he says, “I know.”
Throat thick, I suck in my cheeks.
“But I’m a big boy now. You have to trust that I can handle myself.”
I huff a small laugh at that. It’s a sad, broken thing, even to my own ears.
“On the bright side,” he says after his moment, his voice noticeably lighter in a way it hasn’t been since he answered the phone, “at least it was you I butt dialed, and not my mom.”
Grimacing, I nod. “Yeah, good thing.”
He chuckles weakly. “Fuck my life.” He sighs. “Anyway, seeing as eventually I’ll have to face you again…”
Warmth slips over my neck and cheeks.
“Let’s please just box this up and bury it.”
A rueful grin twists at my lips as I think of another, similar moment I’ve boxed and buried. One he is blessedly ignorant to, and will be, likely for the rest of forever.
And here I thought I’d never have to revisit that hidden room again.
“Aye aye, King Jeremy. Your wish is my command,” I say after a moment.
I can practically hear his eye roll through the phone.
“Funny. I mean it though.”
Cocking my head, I say with mock-confusion, “Why are we on the phone again? You never answer my calls.”
Chuckling, he says, “Beats me.” The relief and gratitude is palpable, bringing a small smile to my face.
“Goodnight, Mase Face,” he says softly after a moment.
My throat constricts around my words, making it impossible to speak above a faint whisper when I murmur back, “Night, JJ.”
We hang up, and I let the phone fall to the mattress.
Burying my face in my hands, I squeeze my eyes shut and clench my jaw. So hard, I see stars, and a faint roar fills my ears. Mingling with echoes of everything he said as they play on a loop.
“I don’t see how this is any of your business.”
“You’re not like this with Way. Only me.”
“Just ’cause she’s not here, doesn’t mean you have the right to go all crazy over-protective sibling on me.”
Lowering my hands, I stare blankly across the room, not really seeing anything.
There’s something…there.
