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“I came here. He wants me to move back though…” Her tone was so flat compared to the usual Joni. “We’ll see.”
“Hey, Joni. You know you deserve this too, right?” He gestured to himself in a similar swirly way that she had a few minutes earlier.
“An objectively attractive and muscular male body that probably should add in a bit more cardio to his fitness routine if he wants to force his friends into grueling runs in mid-July heat?”
“I take it back. You don’t deserve this at all.” He went serious again. “You know what I meant, dummy. You deserve stupid, lovesick, radiant joy. If you want it, I mean.”
Her mouth brimmed into a tight smile. “So, what you’re saying is that you admit to having stupid, lovesick, radiant joy?”
“Fucking hell.” Derek turned back toward the sidewalk, leaving her on her aunt’s porch steps. “Alright, you win that round. There might be a little stupid radiant joying going on, but lovesick? Hell to the goddamn never. I’m going home. Can’t handle these ludicrous accusations.” He waved to her over his shoulder.
“Derek?” She jogged toward him, her auburn ponytail swaying. “Thanks for saying that. About me deserving it too.” She winced. “I’d hug you, but you need a shower, because joy isn’t the only thing you’re radiating right now.”
“Rude, Dr. Sutton. Just so damn rude.” With a smirk, he headed down the path leading to his street.
He was a couple blocks away from home when his weekly alarm went off on his phone. He felt bad he had to set an alarm for this, but he didn’t want to forget. He swiped to Michelle’s contact. Predictably, the call rang three and a half times and then went to voicemail.
“Hey, Michelle. Just, you know, my weekly voicemail. I love you, and I miss you. Call me or come by if you’re ever back in town. If a call’s too much, I’d be cool with an email. A text. Morse code. Whatever. I… I might have a new guy in my life soon. You’d like him, I think. He’s funny. And a complete dork. Just… just let me know how you’re doing some time, okay? Bye.” Derek slid the phone into his pocket.
Chapter 29
Dylan swiveled back and forth in the chair, still groggy from his daytime five-hour nap, while Derek assembled his hair-cutting stuff. After he sent the file to Chase, he’d crashed. He had slept longer than intended, which was becoming a theme lately, but that probably meant he’d needed it.
It was the type of work he loved. A concrete task with clear benchmarks for success. It wasn’t like those few years when he’d been in charge of a team. Management had been a unique kind of hell. He’d been pulled in too many directions, especially with budgets. There was also the administrative HR stuff, the people stuff, and then the development work. It never ended, but nights like last night were perfect. His parents thought he was irresponsible and reckless to give up his last job with its upward trajectory and big perks. But this wasn’t a demotion or a step back. This was making a choice for what worked best for his brain. Just himself and his dev work and problem-solving.
When he woke up this afternoon, a note on his pillow said Derek would be ready to cut his hair whenever, but that Dylan should sleep as long as he wanted. At some point they needed to be on the same sleep/waking schedule more consistently.
He’d grinned like a fool when he saw the small heart next to Derek’s name at the bottom. Derek Chang was a heart-next-to-his-name guy?
Dylan needed to chiiiiiiiiill.
Now he was seated in a chair in Derek’s kitchen with a large mirror set up in front of it. The plumbers had gone home for the day, so they were alone in the apartment. Derek’s hands combed through Dylan’s shower-wet hair, and it was clear from the syncopated pitter-patter response of Dylan’s heart he didn’t have a single ounce of chill. He’d almost ripped the guy’s running clothes off earlier and sucked him off again while Derek’s friend was right outside waiting and probably wondering what TF was happening.
That was the kind of chill Dylan had right now.
No chill at all.
“Do you care what I do to you?” Derek made eye contact via the mirror.
Well, honestly, I’d prefer you ripped my clothes off.
“Uh… not too short I guess?”
Derek smiled. “How about I keep the sides short here and the back?” His hand dragged up the back of Dylan’s neck, sending a thrill straight to his core. “Use the clippers?”
His head lolled down as Derek rubbed the base of Dylan’s skull. Holy shit. His voice was punch-drunk when he found it again. “Sounds good.”
Derek kneaded firm circles down an area of tension on either side of Dylan’s spine. “You need an acupuncturist or chiropractor after nights like last night.”
“It was worse before I got that desk. The up and down helps a lot. I use a wobble board sometimes too.”
“Does that stuff help with the ADHD too? Like with fidgeting?”
Dylan tensed. “Uh… with me, if I’m super focused on a task, I don’t fidget. I’ve got to be reminded to move, pee, and—”
“Eat.”
“Exactly. It’s why I set alarms to take breaks. I’ve got a whole system now.”