What the hell just happened?
By the time I collect myself, meaning getting my dick under control, he’s gone. Leaving me utterly confused.
When I get home, the last person I thought I’d hear from messages me.
Chance: Happy Birthday, D. Hope you had a great day.
I have only seen Chance a handful of times since he got out of rehab. He was busy with a tour, and then the guys moved out of LA to write their new album. Christian gave them access to their Big Bear property to get away from LA and work. So, color me surprised that I hear from him.
Derrick: Thanks. I did. Hope you’re well.
Chance: I’m doing good. Are you at home? Thought you would be out partying?
Derrick: Just got back from being out for dinner with my friends.
Chance: Still seems early.
Derrick: I’m getting old.
Chance: 31 isn’t old.
Derrick: Says the 25-year-old.
Chance: Are you alone?
Derrick: Yeah.
Chance: Want some company?
Oh.
It’s been a long time since he’s flirted with me.
Derrick: Not sure that’s a good idea.
Especially as I can’t stop thinking about Charlie’s kiss.
Chance: You’re probably right. I’d better go. Happy Birthday, Derrick.
Derrick: Night, Chance.
44
DERRICK
Irun into Jackson at the Dirty Texas Records office. “Hey, Jackson, how’s things?”
“Good, good, how about you?”
“I’ve just popped in to catch up with Stacey,” I tell him. Just ask him, you’re dying to know. “Um, how did your friend like LA?”
“Who, Charlie?” Jackson chuckles. “It was going to be a long shot, it took me a year to even get him to get on the plane to visit. But he’s thinking about it, depends on if his sister is keen to come too.”
“So, you two served together?”
“We met in recruit school, been close ever since. We both medically discharged at the same time,” Jackson explains.
“Did he get hurt like you?” I’ve heard the stories from Finn and Isla about what happened to Jackson, but they never mentioned anyone else.
