Devil's Kiss (Sunset Cove #2) (17 page)

When it was falling off Derek’s shoulders and arms, Jordan sucked in a breath, and Derek glanced down his body to see what he was looking at. Sure enough, there was a huge red welt that covered half of his ribs and would most certainly leave a bruise tomorrow. It was already starting to turn a bluish purple.

Jordan brought a hand up to cover the gasp that escaped his mouth, and then he raised his eyes to meet Derek’s. “Why did he do this?”

I have no fucking idea
. “Wish I could tell you why he ever did it. If I had to guess, he was drunk, somehow found out where I was working, and came to pay his boy a visit. Last thing I remember was the first hit. He knocked me out cold. The rest must’ve happened after.”

“Oh, Derek,” Jordan whispered, his breath leaving him on a shuddering exhale.

“Hey, this is nothing new.”

“It is to me. And whether it’s new or not doesn’t matter. You need to report him.”

Derek’s hand whipped out to grip Jordan’s wrist. “No fucking way. If I do that, I have to file where I’m living, and somehow he’ll find out. I will not bring him to your doorstep. Do you hear me? Even calling you, coming back here, was stupid. He might’ve followed.”

Jordan knelt down until he was between Derek’s spread legs and looked up at him, and in that moment something between them shifted. The landlord and tenant. The professor and student. They vanished. And all that remained was one man who needed the other to survive.
 

“Listen to me, Derek Pearson. I don’t care. I wasn’t about to leave you there. You called me. You needed me. I answered.”

Derek released his hold on Jordan’s wrist and brought a trembling hand up to touch his fingers to his chin. He needed to know in that moment that Jordan was real. That he wasn’t hallucinating and lying out in the middle of the parking lot bleeding to death. But when Jordan got up on his knees to bring them closer, Derek’s breath caught and he worried his lower lip with his tongue.

“Careful,” Jordan whispered, and gently touched his fingers to the swollen flesh before leaning forward to press the softest kiss Derek could’ve imagined to the corner of his mouth. “You don’t want this to start bleeding again.”

When Jordan was about to pull away, Derek tugged him back in close, and miracle of all miracles, Jordan came. Their breaths mingled as the connection between them blazed, and then Jordan’s fingers were trailing down the uninjured side of his jaw.

“Derek…” he said, and then angled his head to the side and gently kissed Derek’s lower lip.
 

Derek sat frozen in place at that first intimate connection, as the sweet glide of Jordan’s mouth brushed over the top of his. He couldn’t believe that Jordan Devaney was finally kissing him. There’d been so many times he’d fantasized about this, but never had he imagined it would happen like this.
 

“Are you okay?” Jordan whispered against his mouth.

Derek didn’t want to move, but managed a slight nod before he leaned forward again, as if in a dream, to steal another kiss. Jordan slid his fingers to the back of his head to stroke through his hair, and this time when their lips parted, Jordan placed several kisses down his neck and nuzzled in there, where Derek heard him whisper, “What am I going to do with you?”

And all Derek could think was,
Good fucking question
.

* * *

EARLY THE NEXT morning, Derek stared across Jordan’s bedroom at the man who’d taken such care with him the night before. He needed to get out of there and away from Jordan before his father tracked him back to his place.
 

He had no idea how his father had found out where he worked, but all he had to do was ask the right person for an address and he could show up there, and… Derek shuddered at the thought of what that no-good piece of shit would, or could, do to Jordan.

Jordan had class this morning. He’d told Derek he only had one today and then he would be back, and Derek knew that would give him the perfect opportunity to do what needed to be done.

Jordan had gone above and beyond in giving him a room to stay in for as long as he had. He’d been beyond generous, and it was time to return that kindness with his safety.
 

It was time for him to move on.
 

CHAPTER TWELVE

One Week Later

JORDAN SAT ON his couch staring at reruns of some city’s “real” housewives as he sipped on a glass of Cab Sav. He wasn’t really paying any attention, though, as one of the main women slapped another across the face, and considering what a spectacular blow it was, that was saying something. Usually he would be on the edge of his seat cheering a bitch on. But that wasn’t happening right now.
 

No
.
 

He was too busy replaying for the millionth time the voice message he’d received from Derek the other day while he’d been in class.
“Hey, Devaney, by the time you get this I’ll be out of your hair and house for good. I think it’s the best for everyone. It’s nothing personal, you know. I just don’t think it’s smart to stay with you anymore after…well, after what happened with my father.”
Derek paused, and Jordan still wondered what he’d really been thinking when he ended the call, because his lame
“It’s been cool”
wasn’t it. Of that, Jordan was positive.
 

That message had been followed by one that was short and to the point:
“Oh, and Devaney, don’t try and change my mind either, okay? I know you’ll want to. But it’s time for me to move on. I’ll see you around.”
 

Then the message ended.

Impossible man
, Jordan thought, as he tossed his phone down on the couch.
 

He had no idea where Derek had gone, but when Jordan had gotten home that afternoon, he sure as hell hadn’t been there. The empty spare room had made it seem as if he’d
never
been there, and Jordan hadn’t been prepared for how much that hurt.

For the rest of the week that followed, he’d been obsessed with tracking Derek down. He’d waited in the gym’s parking lot like a total stalker, and even waited outside of Brantley’s class to see if Daniel met up with him—but nothing. It was as if Derek had disappeared off the face of the planet, perhaps so he could heal, and finally Jordan had caved and called him, only to be greeted with his voicemail. That’d been on Wednesday, and now here he was on Friday night still worrying over the thoughtless jerk.

He wasn’t really a jerk, though. Jordan knew why Derek had done what he had. He thought he was protecting him. But would it have killed him to let Jordan know where he was? That he was safe and okay?

Sighing, Jordan stood, headed out to the balcony, and looked out at the lights lining the path along the beach. He missed him.
That
he hadn’t expected.
 

It wasn’t as if they’d spent hours hanging out or anything like that, but it had been nice to come home to someone each night. He wasn’t sure if it was Derek in particular or just the comfort of another human being in his life, but clearly Derek was determined to do this his way, and who was Jordan to stop him? They both had very different lives, and it was time Jordan got on with his.
 

He needed to get out, needed to go and meet some new people.
 

Yes, that was what he’d do. If Derek wanted to be left alone, then Jordan would follow his wishes. After all, the guy knew where he was should he ever need him.

* * *

DEREK CLIMBED THE flights of stairs to the top balcony that ran across the front of four apartment doors and prayed this was not going to be a dead end. He must’ve gone to six—
no, seven
—“interviews” with potential roommates this week, and each one, for some reason or other, hadn’t been the right fit.

He’d figured this was the best route for him, since rooming with Jordan had turned out pretty well considering, so he really needed this to pan out. It was the last one on his first-choice list, and the idea of a weekend at Motel Hell wasn’t something he was looking forward to.

He walked down to the final door and checked the paper in his hand and the number in front of him.
Yep, this is it,
he thought, as he gripped the straps of his backpack and shut his eyes, sending up a quick prayer. After taking in a deep breath, he exhaled and raised a hand to knock, but before his knuckles connected with the wood, the door swung open.

Derek startled and took a step back. “Shit. You gave me a heart attack.”

He heard a chuckle come from the guy in front of him and saw a man wearing a wetsuit and holding a surfboard under his arm. Actually, he was half wearing a wetsuit, because it was unzipped and hanging on the guy’s hips.
 

When the surfer stepped out the front door and leaned his board up against the wall, Derek stood there like an idiot until he turned and aimed a smile at him. That was when Derek got his first good look at his face and was struck by the sheer perfection of it.
 

The guy had brown hair, cut short on the sides, and up top the strands were longer, with light highlights, probably from his time in the sun. His eyes were the color of green sea glass, and with the sun setting and casting a golden glow over everything it touched, it gave the guy an almost ethereal look.
 

Hell, is it possible that surfer guy
’
s
my guardian angel?
Derek thought with uncharacteristic optimism. God only knew he could do with one at this point.
 

No matter who he was, though, he was fucking gorgeous. Beautiful, in fact.

When Derek realized he’d been staring a little too hard, he averted his gaze and looked over his shoulder to the road that separated the small apartment building from the beach. The guy hadn’t said anything yet, and since he hadn’t told him to get lost, Derek figured he must be in the right place.
 

“So,” Derek started, searching for something…anything, really. “I’m the guy who called about the spare room.”
 

Jesus. Pretty sure he knows that,
he chided himself as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his shorts and fiddled with his phone. He was well aware he didn’t look his best. The cut above his eye was finally starting to heal, but it had one hell of a nasty color highlighting it, not to mention what was under his sunglasses. He just hoped surfer guy didn’t take one look at his face then, let’s face it, his tattoos, and say,
Forget it, dude.

The man said nothing like that, though. Instead, he looked over his shoulder at his surfboard and then back to him. “Yeah, I figured. I was hoping you’d get here soon because I really wanted to hit the waves, and here you are. Perfect timing.”
 

Oh, thank God.
“Yeah, I would’ve come earlier, but work was slammed.”

“No sweat. Let me show you the place real quick so you can see what you think, and we can go from there.”

Derek nodded, and when the guy opened the door and held it for him, Derek stepped forward and said, “I haven’t seen you around here before.”

The guy’s eyes travelled over Derek’s face then down to his chest, and as they drifted lower, Derek hoped his body fucking behaved, because wow, that stare was bold.
 

After what felt like several minutes, instead of the few seconds it had really taken, the surfer’s gorgeous eyes came back up to lock with Derek’s, and he shrugged. “No, you wouldn’t have. I’m new to town. Family moved this way a few months back and I arrived a couple of weeks ago.”

“Gotcha. That makes sense.”

“Does it?”

Derek nodded. “Yeah. Most everyone knows everyone in Sunset Cove. And as a village native, I would’ve remembered you.”

A twinkle lit the guy’s eyes, and he grinned. “You think so, huh?”

Derek felt his pulse skip at the interest in that look and those words. Surfer guy was flirting with him.

“I do,” Derek said, and held his hand out. “I’m Derek Pearson.”

Surfer guy looked down and then slipped his hand into Derek’s large palm. After they greeted one another, Derek figured that would be that, but when the guy didn’t immediately release his hand and instead held Derek’s stare with a teasing one of his own, Derek felt a grin curve his mouth. He’d had such a shit week, and honestly, this guy’s flirtation was a welcome distraction.
 

“I’m Dylan Prescott. And you are seriously built. God
.
Do you live at a gym?”

Not expecting that at all, Derek couldn’t help the laugh that rumbled free. “Nah. But I work at one.”

“Well, shit. You’re a great promo for them.”

“You think so,
huh
?” Derek joked, throwing Dylan’s words back at him. If he thought for one second he would embarrass him, though, Derek had another thing coming. Because daring as you please, Dylan’s eyes lit as they tracked him again.

“I do.
Damn
…”

Oh shit, guy isn’t shy, that’s for sure.
Derek wanted to say something quick-witted, but he kept getting so stuck on how beautiful Dylan’s face was that he found it difficult to string two coherent words together. In the end he settled for the obvious. “I kinda need my hand back.”

One side of Dylan’s mouth pulled up, and as that grin grew wider to extend into the same smile from earlier, two dimples appeared on either side of his cheeks, and Derek thought it was a miracle his knees didn’t buckle.
 

How was one guy so fucking blessed in the looks department?

“Yeah, okay. I guess I can give it back.” Dylan let go of Derek’s hand and gestured inside with a tilt of his head. “Come on. I’ll show you around.”

The tour was quick. The place would’ve fit into Jordan’s living room, but it was clean and didn’t smell funky, and when Dylan shoved open the door at the far end of the hall and said that would be Derek’s room, he felt the weight he’d been carrying around this week lift from his shoulders.

“So what do you think?”

Derek turned back to see Dylan standing with his arms crossed over his naked chest. “It’s perfect.”