CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Six Months Later
“CAN YOU BELIEVE that Brantley and Daniel are back together?” Jordan asked, as he unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it over the end of his bed. “I’m still trying to catch up with the fact that Daniel is even back in town, and now he’s shacking up with Brantley and running the poor guy through the wringer.”
“You’re such a gossip,” Derek said, laughing from where he was sitting on the opposite corner of his mattress unlacing his boots. Jordan stopped in front of him with his hands on his hips and waited for him to look up, and when he did, Derek asked, “What?”
“What?” Jordan demanded, stepping between Derek’s spread legs. “Don’t give me that, mister. You’re already in trouble for keeping the fact that Daniel was back a secret from me.”
“Hey, you didn’t tell me that Brantley had sent him a love note in the first place, so I think we’re even. Plus, I didn’t know he was coming back until the night before he arrived. His sister was talking to a friend down at the store and I overheard her. Trust me when I say that Danny boy was shocked as hell when I turned up at the airport to get him.”
Jordan fingered the collar of Derek’s black polo shirt and frowned. “What do you think’s going on over there?”
Derek ran his hands up the outsides of Jordan’s legs to his waist, and then pulled him closer. “You’re nosy. And bossy. And if you need me to tell you what they’re doing…”
“Not that, smartass,” Jordan said, swatting at Derek’s roaming hands. “I mean, do you think Daniel’s going to stay? Ugh, I hate the idea of him trampling all over poor Brantley’s heart again.”
Derek leaned back and raised an eyebrow at him.
“What?”
“Poor Brantley’s heart? Have you forgotten that Hayes is the one who sent him away?”
“Well, no. But—”
Derek shook his head and sat up, tugging him down onto his lap. Jordan had to either fall over the top of him or straddle his thighs. So he went with option two, placing a knee on either side of Derek’s hips and looping his arms around his neck.
“Nope,” Derek said, shaking his head. “There is no but in the scenario. Brantley sent him away, Finn went, and now they’re just going to have to work it out like big boys.”
Jordan grinned as Derek stroked his fingers down his spine. “Oh? And how do big boys work things out?”
“Like I said before. If you need me to tell you…”
Jordan gasped as Derek got to his feet with him wrapped around his body in an amazing display of strength, and then laughed uproariously when they tumbled onto the bed.
As they rolled across the mattress, mouths met and tongues dueled while Derek grappled with his shirt, pulling it over his head and throwing it to the floor.
It was always like this with them. Fast and furious. They were both extremely busy in their day-to-day lives, but when the night rolled around and they came together, it just worked. Just as they’d always known it would—and right now was no different.
It had been six months since they’d fallen back into Jordan’s bed, and that was pretty much where they ended up whenever they got together. It wasn’t that they’d consciously decided to focus only on the physical aspect of their relationship. It just seemed to be the way things went whenever they were around one another. Neither of them had mentioned labels or changing anything about the present situation, so when Derek lowered his head, locked eyes with him, and said, clearly and without one ounce of subterfuge, “I love you,” Jordan froze like a deer in headlights.
* * *
DEREK STARED DOWN into a face he knew as well as his own, and the panic that flashed into Jordan’s wide eyes had him rearing back and shifting to his knees.
The man lying on his back looking up at him had lost all the joy that had been stamped over his face a second ago, and Derek’s words, his I love you, had brought a look of alarm forward to take its place.
As Derek knelt there waiting for some kind of response, Jordan remained paralyzed, as though he were in a state of shock, and with every silent second that passed, Derek felt more and more like a fucking idiot.
How could he have been so damn stupid? To think that after all this time Jordan would finally be ready to admit what it was between them. That he would finally realize that what they had was something people searched their entire lives for and never found.
But no, when he’d finally said it, when he’d finally felt the moment was right and told this man he’d known for close to a decade that he loved him, Jordan, the man with an answer for everything, had turned fucking mute.
Derek climbed off the bed and bent down to pick up his shirt. He then straightened and aimed a glare in Jordan’s direction as his embarrassment morphed to anger.
“Nothing to say to that, huh? Really?”
Jordan sat up and opened and shut his mouth as though trying to find words, but when nothing came he clamped his lips together and Derek saw his Adam’s apple move as he swallowed.
Wow.
He grabbed his boots off the floor as Jordan scrambled to stand, but Derek pinned him to the bed with a look that said don’t fucking bother, and before Jordan could get dressed and follow, Derek was in the elevator and down to the ground floor.
* * *
THE FOLLOWING NIGHT, Jordan climbed out of the Uber he’d taken to Boyz and checked his phone a final time before he shoved it into his front pocket. Still nothing from Derek.
Shit.
He’d been calling him since the night before, and every time he’d gotten his voicemail he’d left yet another “We need to talk” message. He knew he was starting to sound like a robot, but there was no way he was about to have this conversation with a voicemail inbox, where everything he said could be played back on repeat.
So sue him, he didn’t like someone having that much proof over him when he was groveling. And he knew when Derek did finally answer, he would be doing some heavy-duty groveling.
But that would now have to wait until tomorrow. Brantley had called him earlier this morning and wanted to catch up with him for brunch. And after putting on an Academy Award-worthy performance, Jordan had somehow agreed to meet up with him and Daniel tonight at Boyz.
Not exactly what he’d had in mind for the evening. The problem was, if he’d refused, Brantley would’ve wanted to know why, and since he still hadn’t gotten around to telling him that he was sleeping with Derek, he figured he’d keep that little gem to himself until whatever this night at Boyz was was over.
He took a deep breath and shook his hands by his side. Just go inside, dance for a few hours, and then leave, he told himself as he continued down the side of the brick building.
He was all set to plaster a smile on his face and maybe drink a few too many shots when he rounded the corner and right there, directly in front of him, was Derek. And not just Derek standing by himself, which would’ve been awkward enough, considering the circumstances. But Derek, who was leaning against the wall with some twink draped all over his arm like he was an accessory for the night, and hell, maybe he was.
Unfuckingbelievable. Jordan fumed as his eyes took in the scene in front of him. The man who, just last night, had pressed him into a mattress and told him he loved him was decked out like a fucking sex god in boots, black pants, and a green vest, and Jordan could see every tattoo he’d licked, sucked, and yes, come all over.
He watched as the brunette, who was draped all over Derek, ran a hand up his arm, and Jordan felt his head come close to exploding.
Grinding his teeth together, he stormed over to where Derek was and situated himself so he was directly in his eye line. When the guy stroking Derek’s arm moved slightly to the left and Derek’s eyes found Jordan’s, he had the good grace to look shocked as he pushed off the wall and straightened.
Yeah, busted, Jordan thought as he cut his eyes to the brunette now glaring at him over his shoulder. Oh, honey, don’t even try, he wanted to tell the guy. Your hands might be all over him, but he’s wishing they were mine.
Jordan could feel his annoyance heating his cheeks as he said to the oblivious man between them, “Scram.”
“Fuck off,” the guy told him, and Jordan raised an eyebrow at Derek, telling him, in no uncertain terms, You get rid of him or I will.
Derek sighed and leaned down to place his lips by the guy’s ear, but as he spoke into it he kept his eyes glued to Jordan’s. His version of a fuck you, no doubt.
Once he finished saying whatever the hell he’d said, the guy giggled, tossed a look in Jordan’s direction, and then stepped away from them. When he was out of earshot, Jordan took a step forward and asked the most important question first: “Did your fucking phone break last night?”
“No.”
“So you are just being a dick and not answering my calls.”
Derek gave him an eat shit smile and said, “How’s that feel, Jordan? When someone doesn’t answer you?”
Stay calm, he told himself. Brantley and Daniel were no doubt about to arrive, and he wasn’t sure how he would ever explain this. “Are you serious right now?” he said. “You want to talk about that here? Now? I’m assuming you’re here because Daniel asked you.”
“Gold star for the genius of the bunch,” Derek said as he crossed his arms and glared. Jesus, he was angry. Jordan couldn’t remember ever seeing Derek this mad before. This…this was a whole new level of pissed. He was vibrating with rage.
“Look. I can see that I hurt you—”
“Oh you can, can you? How fucking astute of you, Jordan. Look, I don’t want to talk to you right now. So how about we agree to stay the hell out of each other’s way tonight.”
Jordan’s mouth parted in shock at the low blow, and he ground his teeth together, willing himself to keep his own temper in check. “Fine.”
“Fine.”
He ordered himself to turn the hell around and walk away from Derek before he did or said something he’d regret, and as he waited further down the line he caught the twink’s eye as he gave an I won smirk, and headed back to claim his prize.
If Jordan hadn’t been so annoyed at himself he might’ve wished the guy good luck, because with the mood Derek was in there was no chance in hell of him getting out of it anytime soon. As it was, Jordan was too pissed for even a snarky comment.
As he looked out at the street, he saw Brantley and Daniel climb out of a car, and their ridiculously wide smiles made him want to fucking scream at the situation he was now in for the rest of the night.
Well, no one had ever accused him of holding back.
Jordan marched forward to give Brantley a piece of his mind regarding putting him in the same breathing space as the barbarian behind him, and when he’d finished his spectacularly idiotic tantrum he stamped his foot, spun on his heel, and headed inside to track down a drink and forget about the brunette who was back to adorning Derek Pearson’s arm.
* * *
DEREK SCANNED THE crowd of Boyz as he stepped through the doors after much persuasion from Finn. He’d decided to head inside with him and at least get one drink for old times’ sake.
One drink, and then he was out. But after Finn had spotted Brantley on the dance floor and they’d both vanished, of course he’d searched out and found Jordan.
He made his way through the crowd and over to where Jordan was standing by the tall tables off to the side of the bar. He had a drink in his hand and an irritated expression on his face, and when he spotted Derek heading in his direction, he gave him a look that screamed, Stay away from me.
“I hope that’s your first,” he shouted so Jordan would hear him.
“It’s my second, and last time I checked, I don’t answer to you.”
“Maybe that’s the problem.” Derek plucked the drink out of Jordan’s hand and placed it on the table. “I’ve seen you after one too many of these. You need a fucking keeper. Especially dressed as you are. Could your pants be any fucking tighter, Jordan?”
“Do you mind?” Jordan protested.
“Yeah, I do, actually.”
Jordan aimed a fulminating glare at him and looked as though he wanted to kick him in the balls. “You made it quite clear outside that you didn’t want to talk to me.”
Derek scoffed. “Really? That’s what you’re going with? Out of all that’s been said over the last two days.” Derek leaned down so his mouth was by Jordan’s ear. “I used to think you were so brave, Professor Devaney. The man who wears what he wants and says whatever he’s thinking. But in answer to what I said to you last night…in answer to something so important, you have nothing to say. You still have nothing to say. How disappointing that the man I admired so much turned out to be such a fucking coward.”
Jordan turned his head, his expression close to murderous, and Derek asked, “Tell me something—do you want to fuck me or kill me right now?”
If smoke could’ve come out of Jordan’s ears it would’ve, as he replied, “Neither.”
Derek let his eyes shift to Jordan’s lips and said, “Liar. When you feel like admitting the truth, maybe I’ll return one of your calls.”
Jordan brushed past him hard enough that their shoulders connected, and as he stormed out the door, Derek turned and watched him go.