Inertia: Impulse, Book One Page 6

  “Maybe I just like watching you work,” Gavin replied.

  “It’s not very exciting stuff.”

  “Doesn’t mean I can’t admire the view.”

  Derrick laughed, flushing as he finished patching the hole and began to put away his tools. “Okay, right, so, here I was thinking it was the wrong time, with whatever is going on with your ex and all. I wasn’t going to ask, but now you’re flirting again, so I’m just gonna go for it.” He paused for air and braced himself as he zipped his bag shut, then looked Gavin in the eye. “Would you like to go out with me sometime?”

  Gavin blinked and opened his mouth, then closed it again. Derrick gripped the strap to his duffel to keep his hands from shaking with nerves. The longer the Gavin took to answer, the more certain he was he’d screwed up.

  “I should have figured you’d just cut through the bullshit. God, I’m an idiot,” Gavin murmured almost to himself. That wasn’t an answer, though.

  Finally Derrick drew a calming breath and shrugged. It cost him to play it off relaxed and casual, but he managed. He thrust his hand out toward Gavin, trying to salvage what little dignity he had left. “Hey. Don’t worry about it. Call me in a few days, and I’ll come sand this smooth so you can paint, okay?”

  Gavin hesitated a moment, then shook his hand. “Look, it’s not that—”

  “You don’t owe me any explanations, Gav,” he said sincerely, gripping Gavin’s hand a little tighter before releasing it. “It’s okay. I’m still happy to help. I’d like to help, whatever you need. Seems like you could use a friend. So call me in a few days.”

  He left before Gavin had a chance to stammer any more awkward attempts at a reply.

  WHY HAD HE COME HERE? Derrick wondered, looking around the half-full bar. The bartender made casual conversation with him as he worked, and Derrick answered, though his heart wasn’t in it. He made himself talk anyway; the last thing he wanted was to be that guy who came to a bar alone and moped. It was time to begin to move his life forward. LeeAnn was right. Ten years ago, worn out and battered by too many losses, he’d just stopped. He’d made a cave for himself, from which he ventured out only to see a few select people, never welcoming anyone else in.

  He’d let himself stagnate and called it contentment.

  “Is this your first time here?” the bartender asked, rubbing the bar down with a towel. “I haven’t seen you around.”

  Derrick shook his head. “No, but it’s been a few years.”

  “Well, as you can see, we’re pretty laid back here.”

  Derrick chuckled, sipping his whiskey. “Sounds just about my speed.”

  The bartender smiled. “Well, you know, there’s other gay bars around Detroit if people want club music and drag shows. Here, people can just come to hang out and talk. Like the queer answer to Cheers. Just a friendly neighborhood pub.”

  “That’s cool,” Derrick murmured, listening to the ice clink in his glass. “I’ll keep that in mind. I think I’ll be trying to get out more, in the future.”

  “You meeting anyone here tonight?”

  “Nope.” Derrick shook his head as his cell phone rang, digging in the pocket of his leather jacket. He went still at the sight of the caller I.D. “Excuse me.”

  He turned away from the bar, thumbing the answer button. “This is Derrick.”

  “Hi, Derrick. It’s Gavin.”

  “Hi, Gav.” He was pleased with his light, casual tone. Pleased that he could roll with Gavin’s refusal without sulking or acting like Gavin owed him something. Gavin still needed a friend, that much seemed certain. He’d be damned if he wouldn’t at least offer that much. “What can I do for you?”

  “I was wondering if your invitation to go out was still open. Maybe we could meet for a drink somewhere. Tonight?”

  “Sure, it’s still open,” he answered, trying to keep his tone mellow even as his pulse sped up. “As long as you don’t feel like you have to. I mean it. It’s cool if you don’t.”

  He heard a quiet exhalation, not quite a laugh. “I know I don’t have to. But, it turns out I really, really want to. Whether I should is another subject entirely, but maybe we can talk about that over drinks?”

  “Sounds good. You know the Adam’s Apple, down on Warren?”

  “I’ve never been there, but I’ve heard of it.”

  “Well, I’m already there, if you want to join me. Or we can meet somewhere else.”

  “No, that sounds fine. I’ll be there soon.”

  Derrick turned back to the bar as he turned off his phone and tucked it back in the inner pocket of his jacket.

  “Change of plans?” the bartender asked.

  “Yeah.” Derrick shook his head, wondering if he looked as bewildered as he felt. “Looks like I’m meeting someone after all.”

  The bartender pointed to a far corner of the bar. “Tables back there tend to be quieter, when the karaoke begins.”

  “Thanks. Anyone who joins me, put the drinks on my bar tab.” He pushed his glass toward the bartender for a refill, and thanked him with a smile before taking the whiskey back to one of the tables.

  If he thought Gavin looked good answering the door of his apartment, it had nothing on the way he walked into a bar. He didn’t just dress the part of a man who looked good and knew it. He walked like he owned the place, like he knew every eye was on the narrow-cut black jeans clinging to his hips and the black and red satin brocade vest tailored snugly along the long line of his torso. The effect of all that black contrasted with his pale skin and hair was striking, and Derrick let himself admire for a private moment, as Gavin made his way toward the bar. He only stopped staring when the bartender pointed in the direction of his table in response to Gavin’s question.

  Derrick stood as Gavin turned to face him, wiping his palms on his thighs.

  “Hi.” Gavin smiled, and here the facade of confidence developed a flaw, hidden somewhere in the tremulous way his mouth curved and the slight uncertainty in his eyes. “Thanks for letting me join you. For inviting me out in the first place, as well, I suppose.”

  Derrick smiled, sitting and nursing his whiskey as Gavin ordered one of his own. “I’m glad you decided to take me up on it.”

  “Yeah, about that.” Gavin glanced around the bar, evading Derrick’s eyes. “I feel like I should explain.”

  “I meant what I said. You don’t owe me any explanations. If it’s not a good time for you to be seeing anyone, say it’s not a good time, and that’ll be it. I won’t be upset. Hell, I’ll gladly do the just friends thing, if you’d rather. No expectations.” Derrick stared at the ice moving in his whiskey. “Though, I have to say, the flirting might get a bit confusing, there.”

  Gavin laughed softly. “Now is a bad time for more reasons than I can count, most of which I don’t really want to get into at this moment. But—” He paused to thank the waiter and then took a drink of his whiskey, speaking slowly and thoughtfully, “Now is the time you’re here, and whether it’s a good idea or not, I find myself really interested in you. So. I have a dilemma.”

  He shrugged, shaking his head with a rueful smile. “I guess I just never expected you to call my bluff.”

  Derrick chuckled. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Because of that.” Gavin gestured to his ruddy face. “You blushed so damn easily. And I gotta give you points for composure, because you played it cool, but I could tell I flustered you. I guess I figured you were too shy, that you wouldn’t push it.”

  “Then why flirt in the first place?” Derrick tilted his head, watching as Gavin squirmed. “I mean, I’ve been out of the dating scene for a while, so maybe I’m missing something, but I always thought flirting was meant to test the waters.”

  “I think I had something to prove to myself,” Gavin said after a long moment of staring at his drink. “Something my ex said when we broke up kinda took root, I suppose. I wanted to prove him wrong. I didn’t count on liking you as much as I ended up doing. I’m sorry.”


  “So why’d you change your mind?”

  Gavin grinned. “My friend, Andi, threatened to kick my ass if I didn’t call you.”

  “Did he, now?”

  “She. Andi. Andrea. We were roommates back in college.”

  Derrick smiled. “Old friends have a way of setting you right when you need it,” he murmured, flagging down the waiter for a coffee rather than another whiskey.

  “Yeah, they do. She said I needed to get on with my life,” Gavin murmured, sipping his whiskey. “So you said you’ve been out of the dating scene for a while. How long?”

  “About ten and a half years,” Derrick said, laughing a little at himself.

  Gavin stared. “What, you’re serious?”

  “Mmhm.” He thanked the waiter as he brought Derrick’s coffee to the table, sipping carefully. It was fresh and scalding hot.

  “Were you in a relationship all that time?” Gavin looked bewildered.

  Derrick shook his head, pursing his lips. “Nope. I was single.” He shifted under Gavin’s stare. “It was my choice. The singles scene just didn’t seem worth the bother.”

  “Oh.” Gavin seemed a little lost at what to do with this revelation. “That’s a really long time. I imagine that’s making this a little difficult for you.”

  Derrick shrugged, smiling. “So far it seems to be going okay.”

  “Well, I’m glad for that, at least,” Gavin said. “So, this bar. Do you come here often?”

  “No.” Derrick looked around, ignoring the karaoke beginning. “Last time I was here was actually around the time I decided not to bother dating, I guess.”

  “It sounds like there might be a story to all this.”

  “There is, though I don’t think it’s a very uplifting one. Condensed version is, it was Valentine’s Day, and I’d had a brutal winter, which had capped off three difficult years. In the middle of it all, my ex had broken up with me, and—” He shrugged, sighing. “I think I just didn’t want to be alone on Valentine’s Day. So I came here, and people were friendly, but everyone was together and I wasn’t really— Well, I mean, I’ve never been really good with strangers or crowds, anyway, and especially just then at that time in my life, I couldn’t—”

  “Couldn’t what?” Gavin’s eyes were gentle, his voice soft. Derrick wondered why he’d told this maudlin story on a date, if that’s what this was. He’d never told anyone about that night he had ventured out alone, too lonely to stay home in his newly-empty house and too retiring to bring himself to meet anyone once he was finally out.

  Not even Devon knew. He didn’t know how Derrick had spent the months that followed his grandparents’ deaths and the break-up with LeeAnn, as Derrick found his footing again. After caring for two dying people day and night for three years, he’d had to learn how to live for himself. It had taken a while to figure out who he was when he wasn’t taking care of someone else.

  He’d never confided any of that in anyone. But it seemed important to revisit that night, when he’d decided he was better off alone. To lay it and everything that had come after to rest.

  “Couldn’t connect, I guess? Reach out? I don’t know. But I wasn’t ready, then. I was in a really bad place emotionally and I think maybe I assumed I’d never be able to connect with anyone again, or that it wouldn’t be worth the effort if I tried. And by the time I was grounded again, I guess inertia had taken over. Objects at rest and all that. So I never tried. I just wrote the whole thing off. Dating. Relationships. All of it.”

  “Until now,” Gavin murmured.

  “Yeah.” He sipped his coffee, meeting Gavin’s eyes. “And that’s not meant to pressure you at all or anything. Just bear with me if it turns out I’m not very good at this.”

  Gavin flashed him a smile. “You’re doing fine so far. I’m glad I called you back.”

  “I’m glad, too.” Derrick ducked his head, sipping his coffee and waiting for his inevitable blush to fade and searching for something a little less weighty to discuss for a while, and to get the subject away from himself. “So. Why’d you become an accountant?”

  Gavin grinned, pushing up his glasses with a deliberate flourish. “Because underneath this smoking fine exterior, I’m an incredible nerd who likes math.”

  Derrick spluttered, setting his coffee aside as he laughed, and Gavin feigned affront.

  “You’d better be laughing at the classification of myself as a nerd.”

  “Of course! I wouldn’t dare argue the first part. But seriously.”

  “You don’t think I’m serious about enjoying math?” Gavin’s grin softened. He gave a lopsided shrug. “I do, actually. Numbers make sense and they challenge me. And yes, I know that is actually quite nerdy.”

  Derrick’s smile softened, studying Gavin closely. Having pride in doing something you liked, something you were good at? Derrick wasn’t about to laugh at that. He waved off the idea. “No more nerdy than becoming a writer because you like writing, or a actor because you like acting, or,” he gave Gavin a broad grin, shrugging, “becoming a handyman because you like fixing things. I think I’d be more inclined to laugh at someone who chose a job doing something they know they hate.”

  “Well, now, that raises an interesting question. How did you end up becoming a handyman? I mean, where did you even learn to do all that?”

  “From my mom.”

  Gavin’s eyebrows lifted. “Let’s hear it for thwarting gender roles. Go on.”

  “Well, she was the first in her family to go to college. Her uncle had been an old-school repairman who ran his own shop. You know, from back in the day when appliances like TVs and radios and such were too expensive to just throw away and get a new one. She’d helped him in the summers and after school to earn money for college, and then she ended up doing a work-study in the maintenance department of the university. And while she was there, she met my dad and after they graduated and got married, my dad’s parents helped them buy this little vacation cabin rental place around Pigeon Forge. Dad did the bookkeeping and mom did the upkeep and maintenance. And I tagged along while she did it.”

  “That’s cool.” Gavin smiled. “Are they retired now? What brought you up here from Tennessee?”

  Derrick shook his head. “They passed away when I was fourteen. Car accident. I came up here to live with my dad’s parents after, because my older brother was in the air force and couldn’t be my guardian.” He held up a forestalling hand as Gavin’s mouth opened reflexively. “Don’t apologize or do the awkward, uncomfortable thing. It’s okay. It was long ago, and I’ve dealt with it and you didn’t know when you asked.”

  Gavin closed his mouth, nodding soberly instead. “All right, I won’t.”

  “What about your family? Are they in the area?”

  “My mom is. I see her each week. My dad and brother have passed away, and my sister, Meira, is down in North Carolina in college.”

  “She comes home for holidays?”

  Gavin nodded. “Probably not this year, though. She just got an apartment with a roommate and started an internship this summer.”

  “What’s she studying?”

  Derrick smiled as Gavin launched into a description of his little sister, toward whom he obviously felt a great deal of affection and pride. From there, the conversation moved on to their hobbies. Gavin discussed the theater companies around the Detroit area he and Andi went to see plays at, and Derrick spoke of coaching the rescued and rehabilitated kids Devon worked with and playing hockey in the winter. Gavin jogged for exercise, and Derrick lifted weights to keep his core toned and avoid a back injury on the job. They bonded over their mutual enjoyment of video games and discussed the pros and cons of console gaming versus playing on a computer. Derrick was on his third cup of coffee when he realized it was already eleven thirty.

  “Damn, it’s getting late.”

  Gavin shrugged. “I’m sure the bar is open for at least another couple hours. The karaoke isn’t even done yet. So I’ll be tired for work tomorrow
. I’m in no rush to leave. But if you need to get home….”

  Derrick shook his head. “No, I’m not doing anything that would be dangerous if I’m a little groggy in the morning. I just might be a little drowsy when I’m trying to do my billing paperwork in the afternoon. But,” he looked down. “I’m having too good a time to go home just yet.”

  “I am, too,” Gavin murmured. Their eyes met, and there was a pulse, an electric feeling that they had said more than the words that came out of their mouths actually meant. Derrick felt as though he’d confessed to just how devoid his life had been of this sort of interaction, and how thrilling and terrifying it was to find it again and discover he enjoyed it so much. He felt exposed, even saying so little.

  The silence threatened to become uncomfortable, and the one nagging thought that wouldn’t leave Derrick alone seemed too loud to ignore any longer.

  “Would I be violating some sort of first date protocol if I asked just how messy this thing was that ended a couple months ago? Am I in danger of stepping in anything?”

  Gavin’s soft smile faded, leaving him looking a bit stricken. “I won’t lie. It’s messy. He’s not letting go, at least not as quickly as I’d like.”

  Derrick took his time answering, watching Gavin. He saw the hole punched in Gavin’s wall. Was the ex stalking him? Was he violent? Or was Gavin giving off signals that it wasn’t as over as he claimed it was? And how did he even try to find that out without getting a knee-jerk denial?

  He licked his lips, opting for honesty. “Does he have a reason to think there’s something to hold on to, or is he the only one who hasn’t go?”

  Gavin met his eyes with a haunted gaze. “He’s the one not letting go. I refuse to speak to him at all, if I can avoid it.”

  That didn’t sound like a self-deluding denial. Derrick suppressed a sigh of relief as he turned it over in his mind, looking for any clues to the situation he might have missed, and finally nodded. “All right, then.”

  Gavin opened his mouth and closed it again, then drew a deep breath. “There’s more. Stuff you should probably know, but do you think maybe I could save that for another time? I’d kinda just like to enjoy tonight.”