CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
DEREK UNLOCKED THE front door and headed inside, wanting to forget his night from hell. What a shitstorm, he thought, as he headed directly to the couch, determined to turn the television on and zone the fuck out.
Not only had he gotten into it with Jordan, who he’d expected things to be tense with, but Finn and Brantley had laid into him. He got it. Brantley was feeling protective. Derek couldn’t fault him for that, and at least it proved that the guy had finally manned up and decided that Finn was who he wanted. But Finn had said some stuff tonight that cut deep, and as he’d driven home, Derek couldn’t get it out of his head.
Back when he’d been going through all the shit he had with his father and moving out, he’d figured it would be better not to burden Finn, who would feel responsible for him, and in the end had turned to Jordan. Right?
Well, that had been what he told himself when he’d been in the situation. But looking back on it now and hearing Finn’s words playing over in his head about how he’d let him go, Derek realized he wasn’t angry because Finn had called him out. He was angry because he was fucking right. He had been irresponsible with their friendship.
He’d definitely have to call Finn and patch that up. It had finally felt as though they were getting back on track lately, and he didn’t want it to go off course any more than it had tonight.
Closing his eyes, he settled into the couch and let the white noise of whatever show was on fill his head instead of all the other bullshit that was in there. He’d just about dozed off when a hand tapped the back of the couch and had him jerking up in his seat. He turned and saw Dylan with a frown stretched over his face as he strolled around to take a seat on the single recliner they had in the living room.
“When’d you get in?” he asked, as he settled back and Derek took in his outfit.
Dressed in black jeans, a leather belt that had silver buckle holes punctuating it, and only a leather jacket, Dylan reminded Derek of James Dean. With his hair styled and tousled up top, his stubble accented his square jaw and perfectly symmetrical features. He really was on another level when it came to looks.
“About a half-hour ago,” Derek said.
“Oh, okay. I was showering.”
“Figures. Must take you at least an hour to look that good, considering the mess you start with.”
Dylan grinned. “You’re just jealous ’cause it takes you two.”
“Hmm.”
Dylan tapped his fingers on the arm of the recliner as he looked him over, and then, blunt as ever, said, “Speaking of a mess. You look pretty beat up right now. What gives?”
Derek flipped him off, but instead of laughing, Dylan sat forward and said, “I’m serious. Last night you came in late, I saw the beer bottles in the trash this morning, and now you’re sitting here looking like you ran over someone. What’s going on with you? Is it flower guy?”
Flower guy? Oh shit, Derek thought as he looked over his shoulder at the roses that still sat in the center of their kitchen table. He’d totally forgotten about those. Fucking Jordan and his demands.
“Yeah. Flower guy’s part of it.”
One side of Dylan’s mouth kicked up and his dimple appeared. “So are you finally going to tell me his name?”
Derek narrowed his eyes and sized up his friend. “What do you mean?”
“How long have we lived together?”
“Too fucking long. That reminds me, I forgot to tell you years ago, pack your shit and get out.”
That made Dylan laugh. “You need me for the rent and I’m hardly here, so quit complaining. But…what I’m saying is, I’ve roomed with you since the end of college. And I would almost bet my life that the guy who sent you those flowers is the same guy who purchased you a few years back at the auction. He’s also the same guy you would disappear with for a few nights at a time, am I right? You’ve never dated seriously—”
“Neither have you.”
“Yeah, but I bring guys home. You don’t. And he’s never sent you flowers before. So…what happened? He fall in love with you?”
Derek nodded. “Yeah. But I did first.”
“No shit,” Dylan said. “Hang on a minute. Were you serious before? Do I really need to pack my shit and leave?”
Derek wasn’t sure why, but that made him laugh his ass off. Jesus, here he was after the worst night of his life in a long-ass time, and he was busy crying from laughter. Maybe he was losing his mind.
When he finally settled down, he shook his head and wiped the corner of his eye. “Relax, Prescott. No need to move out just yet. Jordan, that’s his name, and you’re right, it’s the same guy since college. We had a fight tonight. Well, it was last night, really, and I’m just… I’m really disappointed with him right now. I’m mad and fucking hurt.”
“Shit, man.” Dylan put one of his black-booted ankles up on his other knee and started to tap his leg. “Can I ask what he did? Was it another guy?”
“No,” Derek said. “Nothing like that. Actually, he did something pretty amazing, but he missed a few steps along the way. Some really fucking important steps.”
Dylan took a deep breath and seemed to be thinking carefully about the next words he wanted to say, and, not for the first time, Derek really wondered about the man sitting opposite him.
He’d known Dylan Prescott for years. But only what he’d been allowed to see. Dylan was an extremely private person when it came to his personal life, yet from all outward appearances he was confident and easygoing. He wasn’t egotistical in any way, and Lord knows he could be with a face like his. He just had a way about him that drew people in and that was probably why Derek was sitting there spilling his guts, but Dylan only let people know exactly what he wanted them to.
“I had a difficult upbringing,” Dylan finally said, and Derek was stunned that he’d even divulged that much. Feeling that this was something pretty fucking massive for the guy, he said, “So did I.”
Dylan nodded. “Yeah, I figured. I’m not sure how similar our stories are. Or even if they are, but I bounced around for a while in my teens as a foster kid until I landed with my parents and brother, who moved out here back when we first met.”
Oh wow. Yeah, okay, he hadn’t known that about the guy, and it explained a few things. Including Dylan’s nomadic tendencies. He loved travelling from city to city for each modeling job he booked, whereas Derek loved staying exactly where he was.
“They’re really good people,” Dylan continued. “Some of the best, but my adoptive parents, they made mistakes along the way. Big ones that made me really fucking mad. They made choices for me that I resented, but later I was able to forgive because I understood why they did it.”
Dylan scooted to the edge of the recliner and then got to his feet. He aimed his eyes over at the roses on the table and shrugged. “Look, I don’t know this Jordan guy. But he’s been in your life a long time, and you just told me yourself you both love each other. Whatever he did, or didn’t do, I have a feeling he knows it and is regretting it. Maybe instead of sitting here being pissed, you should call him.”
Derek nodded. Dylan was right. He knew that, and maybe it had taken someone on the outside to really make him see what was right in front of him. He just needed to call Jordan and talk this out. Clear the air and let him know how he really felt about the entire situation.
“Anyway,” Dylan said, recapturing Derek’s attention. “I’m heading out for the night. Not sure what time I’ll be back. Oh, and don’t forget, I have that big shoot in L.A. this Monday, so I’ll be flying out Sunday night.”
“Oh shit,” Derek said, and got to his feet also. “I totally forgot about that. Are you ready?”
“As ready as I can be to stand naked for a bunch of strangers.”
“I thought you were going to be in briefs?”
Dylan laughed. “Yeah, and that’s about it. Hey, I’m not complaining. This is going to be huge for my career. I’ll have men lining up at my door.”
Derek gave him a hug before Dylan headed toward the front door.
“I’m pretty sure you could already have that if you wanted to.”
Dylan didn’t answer as he headed out the front door, but then again, Derek hadn’t expected him to.
All right, it was time for shit to get real. First things first, he needed to clear things up with Finn. He fished his phone out of his back pocket and called. When it connected, before he even got the words I’m sorry out of his mouth, Finn was right there saying it for him.
“Derek, I was just about to call you, man. I feel like shit about what happened earlier.”
He sat down on the couch and shook his head. Then he started to laugh at himself, Finn, and the entire situation. Jesus, he felt like a fucking high school girl, and told Finn exactly that.
“Well, you did used to threaten to braid my hair.”
“That’s because you had braid-worthy hair, Danny boy. Not my fault.”
“That’s true. I took great pride in my blond locks.”
“As you should have.” Derek smiled. Then he let it drop, sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. “Listen, I have to say something and I’m only gonna say it fucking once. So listen carefully, okay?”
He heard a door open and close, and had a feeling that Finn had just stepped outside to his and Brantley’s balcony.
“I’m sorry.”
“Derek, we shouldn’t have—”
“Stop it. Let me finish. I’m sorry for tonight. Brantley was right to kick my ass out. But what I’m really sorry about is that I didn’t tell you what was going on with me back in school. I don’t know why I didn’t. Hell, the only thing I can think of is you were like family and I didn’t want to burden your mom after all she’d been through, or worse, bring my father to your doorstep. And you were happy with Hayes and busy with your own life, and…anyway. All the excuses I thought made so much sense now sound so fucking lame. I let my best friend go, and I’m sorry.”
The quiet sound of Finn breathing and the ocean waves crashing in the background was all he could hear as he sat in his living room waiting for whatever Finn was going to tell him in return, and when he finally spoke, he couldn’t have shocked Derek more.
“I was glad.”
Derek ran that over in his head. Several times. “What do you mean you were glad? About what?”
“Not the distancing. But the trust I saw you developing with Jordan. I was glad you had someone who you could turn to. Someone who… I don’t know how to explain it, but someone who distracted you. He challenged you to get free of the life you were living, because I sure as hell wasn’t getting through to you. From day one he pushed your buttons and you pushed his.” Finn laughed at that. “You still do. He’s exactly what you needed, and I knew he wouldn’t come close if I was there, so…I let you go too. Maybe it was just how it was supposed to go, you know?”
Derek nodded, totally speechless as he took in everything Finn had just said, and when his friend said his name, he finally said, “Yeah. I’m still here.”
“What are you going to do now? Call Jordan?”
“Yeah, I don’t know. But I have a feeling it’ll involve shouting, insults, and then wall-banging sex.”
Finn chuckled. “Thank fuck I’m not your neighbor.”
“Hey, no one’s Jordan’s neighbor. Aren’t you the one who Googled him? Didn’t you see his house? It’s a goddamn penthouse, dude.”
“No shit? So Posh really is the perfect name for him.”
Derek laughed at that and thought of his man with a smile. “Oh yeah, it’s perfect. Plus he hates it, which makes it even better.”
Finn laughed along with him at that.
“Well, if we’re good, I better go and work out how to win him back. I’m pretty sure I did the equivalent of kicking a puppy this evening. It’s going to take a lot of persuasion for him to even let me in his elevator.”
“Elevator?”
“Okay, when this is all worked out again, remind me to invite you the hell over. Brantley can come too, if he promises not to be a dick.”
He heard Finn relay his message, and Derek grinned at his response, “He said if Jordan’s wine fridge is full count him in. As long as you promise not to be a dick too.”
“Deal,” Derek answered. Then he said his goodbyes and hung up, feeling that half of the weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Now he just needed to talk to Jordan, but he wanted to do that in person.
After getting to his feet, he headed toward the table where he’d dropped his keys, and as he walked to the door, his phone started to ring. He flipped it over in his hand, hoping it was Jordan, but instead he saw a number that made his stomach turn.
Fucking Alan.
He pulled the front door shut behind him and then swiped the screen as he headed toward the stairs. He was determined to go to Jordan’s place no matter what his brother wanted.
“What?” he said, and was shocked when Alan didn’t immediately answer. Instead, Derek heard someone asking, “Where do you want us to take him to?”
Derek heard Alan give them the name of their local hospital, and then he came back over the phone. “You there?”
“Yeah, I’m here, Alan.”
“Dad was collapsed on the floor when I got home tonight. Unresponsive—”
“But not dead?” Derek asked, feeling a sense of detachment he hadn’t expected.
“No, he’s not dead. At least not yet.”
Derek shut his eyes and wondered if he should be worried he felt nothing in that moment but inconvenienced for being interrupted from going to Jordan’s, but then his brother said something that caught his attention.
“When he came to, before they put him in the ambulance, he asked for you.”
“Why? What does he want?”
“I don’t know. But he asked for you. You know where we’re going if you want to be there. If you don’t…whatever. No skin off my back.”
As Alan hung up the phone, Derek stared at his for a moment and then thought, fuck it. He threw the phone on the passenger seat of his car and climbed in. Then he started the engine and headed in the one direction that was imprinted on his brain.
Jordan’s penthouse.