Derek looked at him for a long time, then a smile played at his lips. He didn’t answer straight away, instead reaching for Basil, drawing him forward and into a kiss. When he pulled back, his eyes were a little clearer and a lot softer. ‘I think so. Would you go there with me someday? Stay a week?’
‘Yes,’ Basil said, because what other answer could he give. He would say yes to damn near anything Derek asked of him, without question.
Derek swallowed thickly, then gathered Basil to his chest, and Basil didn’t hesitate as he let the other man pull him back down to the bed. He octopussed his arms and legs around Basil, pinning him there, and though Basil felt like he’d slept enough for the night, he allowed this moment to carry on for as long as Derek needed it to.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The day of the funeral was tense. Basil went to breakfast with both brothers, and he could feel the silence between them as neither one of them bothered to communicate with each other. They got ready shortly after, but in the lobby, Basil watched as Sage stopped Derek with a hand to his chest.
He couldn’t tell what was being said, but he knew they were arguing. When people started to stare, Basil realized it was getting kind of loud, but he made no move to stop them. After a beat, Derek wrenched himself away from Sage and stormed off, but before Basil could go after him, Sage stopped him with a hand on his arm.
He held up his finger for Basil to wait, then began to type on his phone. I’m sorry. Derek’s not doing well, and I don’t think he should go to the funeral. It’s not going to do him any good. We need to get out of this city, and I told him he should go to our dad’s penthouse and finish signing off on what needs to be packed up and sold, and I’ll handle the service.
Basil stared at the words and found he couldn’t disagree. Derek would hate it—only because he hated having control taken away from him, but Basil knew full well that attending the funeral wasn’tgoing to do him any good, wasn’t going to give him closure. The man was dead, and the only thing that would happen was Derek subjecting himself to the lies the community told about what a great man he was.
Okay, Basil typed back. Order us a car and I’ll get him to go.
Sage gave him a grateful smile, taking the phone back to do just that. Before Basil could walk away, Sage took him by the shoulder, then dragged him into a fierce hug. When he pulled away, Sage looked him directly in the eye and signed, ‘Thank you.’
Basil gave him a stiff nod, then hurried out the automatic doors and glanced around for Derek. He assumed his boyfriend would have gotten further than the side alley, but he found Derek pacing, one hand in his hair, the other clenched into a fist. Basil approached slowly, not flinching when Derek looked up at him with fire in his eyes, his mouth set in a firm, angry line.
He stopped pacing the moment Basil walked up, but he didn’t accept him into his arms the way he normally would. He put his palm out, then released his fist full of hair to sign, ‘Stop. Please, don’t.’
Basil sighed, closing the distance between them, but respected Derek’s request not to be touched. ‘Your brother is right,’ he signed carefully, slowly, watching understanding and then anger dawn in Derek’s eyes. ‘You don’t need to go to the funeral. Go to the house. I’ll come with you and we can finish it together.’
Derek shook his head, but Basil was pretty sure it wasn’t refusal, it was just the chaos swirling around his mind, and he desperately wished there was a way he could help soothe him. ‘I want,’ he started, but his hands just hovered there in the air between them.
‘I know,’ Basil replied. ‘I know, but it’s almost over. Sage ordered a car. It’s almost over.’
Derek stared at him a long moment, then gave a stiff nod. When Basil reached for him again, he didn’t pull away.
The silence wasstony on the way to the penthouse, and he knew that was his own fault. He also knew how profoundly lucky he was that Basil wasn’t taking any of it personally and was still by his side. He didn’t try to communicate with Derek at all, instead keeping his hand in a firm hold, letting his thumb run soothing circles over his wrist.
Derek kept his eyes fixated on the night bloom emblazoned across Basil’s forearm, and after a moment, he let himself reach over and touch it. The edges of the tattoo were fresh still and peeling a little, and the center skin was still raised around the lines. He traced them with the tip of his finger and let himself absorb just how important this ink was. They were tied together in a permanent way, and Basil didn’t seem afraid of it at all.
Even after everything he’d been through, and the cruel people he’d known, he still trusted Derek enough for this. He still felt Derek was worthy enough to carry something of his for the rest of his life. Even if they didn’t work out, Derek would know he meant something to Basil once. Something important. He thought maybe, just maybe, if he leaned over right then and told Basil he was falling in love with him, he might get the same back.
It wasn’t the right time, but he couldn’t help wondering if there ever really was one.
Switching their positions, Derek took Basil’s hand and laid the back of it on his thigh, studying the lines of Basil’s palm. They were smoother than his own, and he had less callouses and a little more fat deposits at the base of his fingers. His skin felt so good under Derek’s rough fingertips, and he found himself wanting to strip Basil down and touch every single inch of his body with hands, with lips, with tongue.
Their intimate time together was limited to their single night of mutual orgasms, and it had been enough, right up until this moment. Derek had been taking it slow for both their sakes, but he was ready for more. He fucking loved this man and he wanted to show him in more ways than one.
When he finally glanced up at Basil’s face, Basil’s eyes were soft, but intense as they drank him in. His free hand lifted slowly to his chin. ‘What’s wrong?’
Derek couldn’t help his smile, in spite of the situation. ‘Nothing. I’m…’ He licked his lips and shrugged. He wanted to say he was happy, because in a way, he was. But he was afraid he didn’t have enough words to make himself understood and he didn’t want Basil to think there was anything superficial or light in this moment. He lifted his hand and traced his finger under Basil’s bottom lip, dragging it over his adam’s apple, feeling across his collarbone. ‘You’re beautiful. So beautiful.”
Basil sucked in his breath, his cheeks going faintly pink, and he leaned in for a kiss. It had the promise of something deeper, hotter, the passion inside of him threatening to consume this moment if he let it. Instead he put a hand to Basil’s cheek and let the moment simmer gently in the background. There would be time for more. He just…he just had to do all this first.
They reached his father’s building, a too-posh apartment he shouldn’t have been able to afford after being disgraced the way he was. But like any politician, he’d managed to claw his way up from the muck and remake himself because ultimately, no one cared about the fates of two gay boys who ran away from their good Christian father.
Derek reached into his pocket and palmed the key to the lobby, then dug out his ID for the doorman who quickly gave him directions to the elevator. The keycard swipe got him to the top floor which led them to a short corridor. His father’s door was at the far end, and he felt his stomach twist as he put the key in the lock and stepped inside.
The place was lit mostly from the floor to ceiling windows, and it didn’t smell musty the way it should have after three years of abandonment, but he supposed the cleaning services hadn’t stopped during his father’s convalescence. Derek had been power of attorney for two and a half of those three years, and he hadn’t known aboutthis place, but he had ensured his father’s personal business was run as usual.
He felt something ugly creeping up his spine—a sort of envy in a way, or maybe it was just fury that a man like Brian Osbourne had been subhuman and yet had lived with such luxury. Everything was new and shiny. He’d beaten his kids and driven his wife to an early grave, and he got to come home every night to a three-million-dollar penthouse. He’d never slept on a cold, concrete floor, belly empty, body filthy, unsure when the next time he’d eat.
Derek let out a shaking breath, then jolted when he felt a warm hand touch the small of his back. He glanced over at Basil who was watching him carefully, and he gave a nod to let him know he was okay. It was a lie. He wasn’t okay. He was the furthest thing from okay. He was standing in his father’s home with no evidence that he’d ever existed. There were a handful of photos on the wall—his father meeting presidents, golfing, on a cruise ship with a blonde woman holding a pair of drinks, looking like he didn’t have a care in the world. His bookshelves were filled with the classics he’d probably never read, his walls full of art he never bothered to appreciate. His bank account was filled with zeroes he’d amassed because his wife and children disappeared from his life and he only ever had to worry about himself. His liquor cabinet was full of the poison which eventually killed him.
