“Damn.” Derek glanced at his watch, too. “Guess we'd better get started on our reports for Ryker. You know how he gets when we make him wait.”
Grumbles of agreement filled the small space as each team member got out their laptops and began typing away.
As Derek wrote his official report for Homeland, his mind kept wandering back to Jake's news. After nearly losing Liv not once, but twice, the couple hadn't just found love and happiness with each other. They were growing it into so much more.
That familiar feeling of envy returned. Sure, Derek was a total player, but that was only to cover up what he was really feeling inside. The pain and emptiness that still existed, even after all this time.
For years, Derek had used his witty humor and natural charm to gain the attention of pretty much any female he wanted. He always respected them—always—and never went into things without being clear about what he had to give. And what he didn't.
He’d lost the one woman he'd hoped to make his before he'd ever even had the chance to tell her how he really felt. The emotional blow had hit him much harder than he'd ever let on.
Lately, those feelings were becoming more and more difficult to hide from the rest of the world.
To those who knew him, he was just a goofy nerd with a strong appetite for casual sex. In truth, he was still that heartsick kid dreaming of the one who got away. If only he’d made his move sooner, then maybe he wouldn’t spend his nights thinking about all the what-ifs.
Maybe it’s time to let go of the past and focus on building a future.
Yeah, Derek thought to himself. Maybe it was.
Chapter 3
––––––––
“Seriously?”
Furrowing his brow, Derek looked at the gruff man sitting beside him. “What?”
Grant’s deep voice rumbled as he read the words printed on the front of Derek’s shirt. “If you ask nicely, I’ll let you touch my dongle.” He raised a questioning brow.
“Hey,” Derek defended his wardrobe choice. “A dongle is a very sophisticated piece of computer hardware. It allows access to wireless—”
“I know what a dongle is and what it does,” Grant cut him off. “What I don’t understand is why you’d choose to wearthatshirt to this restaurant. Or, in public at all.”
“For one, there’s absolutely nothin’ wrong with what this shirt says. Not my fault if your perverted mind twists it into somethin’ else.”
A muscle in Grant’s scruff-covered jaw budged as the humorless man clenched his teeth together.
