The Nerd Next Door: Unexpected Love, #2

By L. Loryn

He never thought he'd get a chance....

 

When Griffin graduated high school, he was voted most likely to die a virgin and most likely to have a pen leak through his pocket protector. The only sport he played was chess, and the only club he was a member of was the Thursday Night Gaming Club he started at the local library. He hated high school, especially football, but he adored Kyrie.  

 

Kyrie had been an all-star football player for four years in high school. He could have slept with any girl he wanted. The only problem was he wasn't interested in girls. He was interested in boys. One boy in particular. He was interested in Griffin, the dorkiest kid in school and the kid who lived on the same street as him. Ten long years later, his high school crush is back in town and looking sexier than ever....

 

And this time, Kyrie's not letting Griffin slip away again.

• Language: English
• Publisher: L. Loryn
• Release date: Nov 10, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201957674

Book preview

Chapter 1

Griffin

By some miracle, his mother had made it to the airport and was waiting for him in the arrival section. Griffin Rowe wheeled a hard-sided luggage bag out to the old family hatchback and tossed it in the backseat. Then, he walked around to the front and knocked on the glass.

His mother rolled down the window, and her wrinkled features smoothed as she locked eyes with her son. I missed you.

Griffin and his mother shared the same watery blue eyes, the same plump lips, and the same cascade of thick, dark hair. I missed you, too. Are you driving back home, or are you going to let me?

Oh, you drive. I’m tired, anyway. She climbed out of the driver’s seat and walked around the car. Griffin took her place, adjusting the seat and steering wheel for his height.

I told you to let someone else come pick me up. He shifted gears and drove away. The tiny airport was forty-five minutes away from the town where he had graduated high school and where his mother still lived. The little spit of a town didn’t even make a mark on the map. His graduating high school class had fifty-five kids in it, and the whole school was just under three hundred.

Out of the fifty-five kids he graduated with, he won the award for being most likely to have a pen leak through his pocket protector and most likely to stay a virgin. The yearbook was right on one account. He definitely needed stock in pocket protectors.

Griffin had boarded an airplane for college two months after high school ended. Airplanes had taken him all over the world. His last stop had been Japan. He studied the arts of herbal medicine and meditation there until his mother’s doctor called him.

She had started showing signs of Alzheimer’s. It ran in the family. So, Griffin wrapped up his studies and boarded an airplane back to Nowhere’sville, USA.

His mother clucked her tongue. I couldn’t let anyone else welcome my only child home. It’s been so long since I’ve seen your face.

Ten years, Momma.

The longest ten years. I wish you hadn’t stayed gone so long.

Well, I’m here now.

And I’m glad. She squeezed his shoulder. Everyone’s going to be so happy to see you. You know, my women’s book club with have been asking about you ever since they found out you were flying home.

Who? Mrs. Everett and Mrs. Cooke?

She nodded. And Mrs. Seabrook. They’ve been asking me all about your job, and I’m sorry but I don’t know what to tell them.

Why are they concerned, anyway? Griffin wrinkled his dark eyebrows, stealing a glance at his mother before turning back to the road.

They’re just curious is all. I told them you did something with body alignment.

I mean, yeah. Why? Should I come to book club and tell them all about my job one week?

Oooh. You know what, you should. You could join book club, too, if you wanted, his mother hinted.

Isn’t it a women’s only book club?

We can make an exception.

Griffin groaned. But I don’t like to read.

You don’t have to like to read.

Well, Momma, it’s a book club. Don’t you have to like reading to join it?

No, no. We meet and talk first and then we have brunch and read a few chapters afterwards. It’s the only way to keep up with all the local gossip. Mrs. Cooke knows everything about everyone.

Okay, and why would I be interested in small-town gossip?

Because so much can go on in a week, that’s why. Let me tell you, just last week we heard two of your classmates are getting a divorce after being married since high school graduation.

Shocker. Griffin rolled his eyes then bit his bottom lip. Have you, um, have you heard anything about Kyrie?

Who?

Kyrie. You know, the sports star. He was good at every single sport known to man. We used to throw a town-wide birthday party for him every year.

Yes, yes, I know Kyrie, but my question is why are you asking? I thought you didn’t care about any town gossip.

I don’t care, but I was wondering if he’s still around.

His mother’s blue eyes glittered. Oh, he’s around all right. He’s very much around all the time.

I don’t know what you’re hinting at.

I’m telling you what you want to know, dear. Though, I can’t believe after all these years you still have your little crush on him.

Griffin’s cheeks warmed, and he scrubbed them as he turned into the familiar subdivision of his childhood. Houses that loomed over him on his walks to and from school were now tiny and shrunken with age. I don’t still have a crush on him, I’m just curious.

Well, all right then. He’s still around. He inherited his parents’ house at the end of the block, and he works in town.

Is he a contractor or lawyer or something?

No, indeed. He runs our one and only animal shelter. I heard he worked at the zoo a couple hours from here, training and working with animals. He worked at the veterinary office, too. Then he came back to town and has been rescuing all the stray dogs around town.

How is it working for him?

You know, I’m not so sure.

Griffin pulled into the driveway of a faintly yellow house and turned off the engine.

Mm. I heard something else, too.

What else?

I heard he’s gay. Well, I didn’t hear it, I saw it. He had a cute, little boyfriend when he came back.

What happen to his boyfriend?

Not so sure. His mother scratched her chin. If you came to book club, you could ask Mrs. Cooke directly. I bet she could give you the whole story.

Thanks, Momma, but no thanks. What are you guys even reading? Women’s magazines on decorating and planning the perfect thanksgiving dinner?

His mother chuckled. Oh no, silly. The ladies are obsessed with this new category of books. I think they call it dark romance?

Ohh. Okay yeah, not listening anymore.

I quite like them, actually. They’re very erotic.

Mooooom. Stop, please. Dear God, please stop.

With another chuckle, his mother fell silent as she climbed out of the car and disappeared inside the house. Griffin unloaded his suitcase and wheeled it up the driveway and over a loose metal threshold.

Gotta fix that, he muttered, lifting his suitcase and dropping his keys on the side table. He deposited his suitcase in his room and then browsed the kitchen. The refrigerator was empty aside from spoiled milk and a few old casserole dishes. Momma?

In here, she replied from the master bedroom she shared with his father until the day he died. His father’s death was an old wound for the both of them. He had fallen ill and had slowly wasted into nothing. In some ways, death had been a relief for them all, because the pain had gone away.

He crossed his arms over his chest as he stepped into the bedroom doorway. I’m going to go grocery shopping. There’s nothing to eat around here.

There’s string bean casserole Mrs. Cooke left.

Like I said, there’s nothing to eat. I’ll be back in a few hours.

Get me some lemon cream pies while you’re out.

Griffin blinked. Momma, you don’t need those. They’re full of sugar.

Yes, but I like them. She smiled, triumphant in her declaration.

Yes, but-nevermind, fine. I’ll get you your lemon pies.

Lemon cream! The cream is important.

Griffin waved. See you in a bit, Momma. He climbed back in the vehicle and drove to the local grocery store, the only grocery store within an hour of their house. Twenty years ago, the store had been called Schwegmann, but now it bore the name Piggly Wiggly. Everyone called it The Pig. Griffin parked and tucked his keys in his pocket as he wheeled a basket to the entrance. A young boy with coke bottle glasses and a string-bean body greeted him with a crooked smile. He reminded Griffin of himself.

"Welcome to