Devil's Kiss (Sunset Cove #2) (5 page)

“Yes, Derek?”

“I just want you to know, I respect who you are, very much.”

And with the ambiguous comment, Derek Pearson left his classroom.

* * *

DEREK CAUGHT UP with Finn just outside the History building, where he sat on one of the stairs waiting for him.
Damn it
, he’d been hoping that moment inside would be the last he’d have to talk about his craptastic morning, but it appeared his torture wasn’t over just yet.

As soon as Derek stopped beside his friend, Finn was on his feet and looking at him with expectation in his eyes, and Derek knew the quicker he got this over with, the sooner he’d be able to forget it ever happened.

“Okay, Danny boy. Let’s have it,” he said as they walked down the stairs. He dug in his front pocket for his pack of Marlboros. “Ask what you want, I’ll answer. Then we won’t talk about this again. Deal?”

“Deal.”

They headed along the path across the lawn toward the east building, and he didn’t even bother to ask where they were going. He was too busy inside his head trying to work out a way to phrase his next words so Finn wouldn’t feel any guilt over them.
 

He took a cigarette between his lips and lit up, taking a drag to try and calm his frayed nerves. He really didn’t want to get into this, but Finn had other ideas.

“When did it happen?”

One thing that could be said about Daniel Finley was his directness. Derek didn’t know any other person as blunt as the guy walking beside him, and if Finn wanted something he would, in the end, always get it. That would make him a helluva lawyer one day, even as it made him a giant pain in the ass today.
 

“This morning.”

“Fuck, Derek.”

When several passersby turned their way, Derek scrubbed an agitated hand over his chin. “Would you keep your voice down?”

“Sorry, but damn it. How are you even here? Your face must be killing you.”

“Yeah, it hurts like a bitch.”

“Let me take you to the ER.”

“How about no.”

“Don’t be stupid. You need to get it checked out. Make sure he didn’t fracture your cheekbone.”

As they stepped under a covered walkway, Derek tugged on Finn’s arm and led him to one of the benches in front of a trimmed hedge. “Nothing’s broken.”

“How do you know? Your eye is barely open.”

“I just need some ice.”

“Jesus. When are you gonna pack your shit and get the hell out of there?”

This argument wasn’t new, but he didn’t want to be a burden to the Finley family. They had gone through enough. Mrs. Finley had raised two children on her own, three if Derek counted himself, which he might as well with the amount of time he’d spent there over the years. There was no way he was bringing his father’s wrath to their door. Right now, the only reason his father tolerated him was because he was one hell of a deduction at tax time. But he knew it was only a matter of years before that ran out. “When I can afford to.”

“I’ve told you over and over—”

“No, Daniel.” His friend shut up then. Finn knew he was serious when he used his full name. It was a rare event, and Derek’s tone said he was done talking about it.

“Then tell me why. He hasn’t touched you in at least…I don’t know…but it’s been a while.”

“A year. At least a year. Ever since I started spending time at the gym, the fucker got smart. Decided it wasn’t a good idea to pick on someone who outweighed him.”

Finn sat down on the bench, and Derek followed suit. When they were side by side, a comfortable silence settled between them, and he marveled at the peace he felt with Finn. He’d often wondered why they didn’t work on a level beyond friends. But he knew deep down this was why. They were like brothers. It might not have been by blood, but it sure as fuck was through choice. He would do anything for Finn and he knew that feeling was mutual. They had each other’s backs, and he knew no matter what happened or where they ended up, they always would.

“Tell me.” Finn’s voice was soft, but his tone firm.
 

“He called you a…” Derek was unable to bring himself to say it. A large, comforting hand touched his shoulder, and when Finn squeezed, Derek tried again. “He called you a faggot.”

The word lingered between the two of them for a moment, and before he could open his mouth and say anything further, Finn got in first. “And then he hit you?”

“No. I hit him first.”

“Derek.” Finn sighed and got to his feet. Then he gripped the back of his neck as he paced, and it had Derek shooting off the bench.
 

“He fucking deserved it. He’s a homophobic prick.”
 

Finn whirled around to face him and poked him in the chest. “You know better than to react to him that way. Especially over me. What do I care if he calls me a faggot or a queer? I
am
queer. But you know what I do care about? I care about my best friend getting a fist in his face.
That
I care about. Who knows what would’ve happened if you’d fallen to the ground unconscious? I’ve seen you after his boot has hit your ribs. I don’t want to see that again, Derek.”

“I know,” Derek said, and cursed under his breath as Finn clasped the back of his neck and pulled him into a hug. It wasn’t awkward, since the two of them were roughly the same height. It actually felt pretty damn good to be touched that way. To be comforted. Then Finn turned his head and whispered in his ear, “Don’t ever let him make you doubt yourself. Not ever.”
 

He hugged Finn a little tighter then, because while he’d reacted to the words on his friend’s behalf, the both of them knew the pain ran on a much deeper and more personal level.
 

One that was dark.
 

One that was damaged beyond repair.
 

One that made him wonder if he’d ever be able to find peace in his life. And the only thing he knew with exact certainty was that he would never give up trying.

CHAPTER FOUR

Two Months Later

JORDAN TIGHTENED THE knot of the purple tie he’d draped around his neck earlier that morning, and gave himself a final once-over in his black BMW Z4’s sun visor mirror. His first class of the day started in—
oh…ten minutes
,
no big deal—
and as usual, he was running late.

It was amazing, really, that for someone as bright and gifted as he apparently was, dressing himself and driving across town to be somewhere at a specific time always seemed to be a monumental effort. One at which he usually failed.
 

He flipped the visor up and then snatched his leather bag off the passenger seat. If he hightailed it he should be able to—
Ugh, forget it, there’s no way I’m going to make it on time,
he thought, and leisurely got out of the car.
Yep. So why bother running and making myself sweat, not to mention mess up my hair?
 

It was mid-October, and the air was still heavy and humid enough that walking from his car across the lawn would guarantee an uncomfortable first period of dress slacks stuck to his ass and his shirt plastered to his back. Not something he enjoyed in front of a room full of students.
 

As far as he was concerned, there were only two good reasons to ever be covered in sweat, and neither of them involved as many clothes as he was currently wearing,
or
the students from his class—
with the exception of maybe…one
, the devil on his shoulder chimed in.
 

He was halfway across the lawn when he spotted Professor Brantley Hayes climbing out of his car, and stopped for a second to admire him.
Mhmm, so fine,
Jordan thought with a grin as his friend and colleague shut his car door and headed in his direction dressed in— “A
vest
? Are you serious? How in God’s name are you wearing a vest today, Hayes? My balls are sweating, and not in the good
it
adds to the friction
way.”

“Eloquent as always, Jordan. Good morning.” Brantley laughed as they met up along the path leading toward their respective buildings.

“Morning,” Jordan replied, then brought his venti peppermint mocha to his lips and took a sip.
Thank God for caffeine, really.
How people functioned without it, he would never know.

“Second month of the semester and you’re still alive. How are you feeling, Professor Devaney?”

“
Old
when you call me that. I swear, every time a student raises their hand and addresses me that way, I’m one step closer to a receding hairline and wrinkles around my eyes.”

Brantley shook his head. “You’re ridiculous. You know that, right? You’re barely older than they are, and I’ll be damned if I tell you you’re good looking when it’s clear by the smug smirk on your face that you already know it.”

“Well, that’s just mean-spirited of you. My ego is
very
fragile,” Jordan protested. “Plus, a boy can never be told too many times how pretty he is.” He batted his lashes and Brantley shoved him in the arm.
 

Over the last few weeks the two of them had become really good friends. They’d gone out a few times after work to grab a drink, and ever since, they’d hit it off. They even had a regular Sunday brunch date at a tiny little hole-in-the-wall café down by the beach. It was an easy friendship. One he knew they would share for many years to come. Especially since sex wasn’t in the mix. That was now one hundred percent off the table. Not only because they worked together but also because Jordan had found out that they shared a positional preference that just wouldn’t work for him.

“I’m sure you have someone on speed dial who can feed your
fragile
ego, should you ever need it,” Brantley said.

“I have two, if you must know. But neither are as smart
or
sophisticated as yourself. So you can understand how your opinion would carry more weight.”
 

“You’re incorrigible,” Brantley said, but grinned as he brought his coffee cup to his lips. He took a sip and then said, “Okay. So be serious for a second. I know you’re capable.”

“’Tis true, but it’s so boring.”

“I’m sure you’ll manage for all of five minutes. I wanted to talk to you about Derek Pearson.”

At the sound of that particular student’s name, Jordan immediately sobered and came to a halt. He’d been paying a little more attention to Derek than he knew he should. At first he’d attributed it to their first encounter, but with every passing day the quiet, almost introspective nature of the guy, showed a vulnerability that had peaked Jordan’s interest. “What about him?”

“I heard something pretty disturbing going around about his father yesterday afternoon. I’m not one to pay much heed to gossip, but in a town the size of this one, it’s bound to happen.”

Jordan’s stomach tightened when Brantley wrapped his fingers around the crook of his arm and pulled him over to the side of the path out of the way of other students.

“I won’t keep you long. I just wanted to give you a heads-up. I remember you telling me about that first day and his black eye.”

Jordan fingered the lid of his coffee cup and nodded, hating where this conversation was leading.
 

“Okay. Well, his father got picked up a couple of nights ago for public intoxication. Apparently one of the law secretaries lives down the street from them. He was brought home in a cop car and was acting belligerent. I heard her say that Derek was the one to smooth things over with the police.” Brantley paused and then said exactly what Jordan was thinking: “I have a sneaking suspicion his eye was courtesy of his dad. So you might want to keep tabs on him.”

Damn.
Jordan had had a feeling it was something like that, but having it confirmed made it so much worse than just imagining it. When he remained silent, Brantley asked, “Have there been any more incidents since that day?”

Jordan shook his head and, in a voice much more serious than he was apt to using, said, “No. He’s very quiet for the most part.”
 

“A bit of a loner, then?”

“Hmm, I’m not sure about loner so much,” he said. “More…private, but that’s understandable now.”

“Yes. I suppose it is.”

Jordan nodded. “I mean, except for his surfer friend. You know, the one with the blond hair.”

“Ahh yes, Daniel Finley.”

Jordan thought he detected something reverent in Brantley’s tone, and couldn’t help but taunt him a little. “Know him well?”

Brantley’s eyes widened, and Jordan couldn’t help but laugh at his friend’s shock.
 

“No. Why would you ask that?”

“You just sounded impressed by him. That’s all.”

“Well, he’s a good student. Very bright.”

“Very easy on the eyes too,” Jordan teased. It worked, too, because Brantley almost choked on his coffee.
 

“I hadn’t noticed.”

Jordan placed a hand on Brantley’s arm, schooling his features to those of someone deeply concerned, and asked, “Why? Are you losing your eyesight? You’re not
that
old.”

“No, smartass. But I’m his professor.”

“Which means…what? That you’re dead? Or worse”—Jordan lowered his voice to a whisper—“impotent? Because they’re the only two reasons you wouldn’t notice that Daniel Finley is sun-kissed and
gor
geous. Not to mention he lights up any room he walks into.”

“Oh my God. Stop talking. I need to get to class.”

“Mhmm, so do I. First class has a certain Daniel—”

“I’m leaving now,” Brantley told him as he started walking away.
 

“Hey? Thanks for telling me about Derek. I’ll keep an eye on him.”
Like I really need an excuse.

“No problem. I figured you’d want to know.”
 

“Yeah, I appreciate it. Oh, by the way. You interested in hitting a club this weekend?” He’d asked Brantley a couple of times now, and each time he’d been turned down. The man was sexy and single, but from what Jordan could tell he was also a little more reserved than he was when it came to what he did in his free time.

“I think I’ll pass for now.”