Page 59 of Throw Down

“It could’ve been so much worse,” Briar said, trying to besupportive.He didn’t know what Derek needed to hear fromhim.

Derek nodded absently, but Briar wasn’t certain he’d really heardhim.

“Mom was weirdly calm when I got home that morning,” Derek said with a faint little laugh. “She’d reached her breaking point, Iguess.I still remember every word of what she said that day—we need you too much for you to be thisselfish.”

Briar pulled back, offended on hisbehalf.“But—”

“She had a point,” Derek said, cutting himoff.“West was already set to have a rough road; his health was fragile and he was a misfit, and then he had to go and add being gay on top ofit?In a town like this? Being gay back then was a recipe for misery aroundhere.We all tried to control every variable for him, to keep him safe, keep himhappy.She couldn’t take me adding anymoretrouble.She looked me dead in the eye and told me she knew aboutme.She’d always known. And then she made me promise her that I wasn’tgay.”

“But she knew youwere.”

Derek shrugged, jostling Briar’s head against hisback.“I told her I wouldn’tbe.”

“It doesn’t work that way!” Briar blurted,appalled.He circled around to get a good look at Derek’s face, but Derek lookedaway.Briar reached up, clasped him by the chin, and forced him to look athim.“You didn’t deserve to have that put onyou.”

Derek’s mouth quirked in a half-smile, but there was something heartbreakingly resigned aboutit.“It wasn’t worth the headache of arguing,” hesaid.“There wasn’t anyone around here for me,anyway.”

“You could havemoved!”

“And leave my family behind?” Derek’s question was full ofdisdain.“That ain’t ever going tohappen.So, I did my best to be what she needed me tobe.I dated women for a while, but that just fucked up their livestoo.Claire miscarried because ofme.After that, I decided it was safer to just put my head down and focus onwork.”

Briar ached for him. Not just for what he’d been through, but because even now, he recounted it like there wasn’t anything particularly wrong with the responsibility his parents had heaped on hisshoulders.His tone was matter-of-fact. He’d long ago accepted it as just another part oflife.

“I know that life is complicated,” Briar said gently, turning Derek’s face down and kissing the corner of his mouth, “and I’m notjudging.I swear I’m not. But you were a kid, just like your brothers andsisters.You didn’t deserve to have all that put onyou.”

“All that matters is that the kids grew up safe and happy,” Dereksaid.

“You matter too.” Briar kissed his chin, his jaw, the tips of hiseyelashes.“You matter, Derek. You deserve to behappy.”

Finally, Derek looked at him, and the smile that curved his mouth grew until it became something real. When Briar kissed the corner of that smile, Derek turned and caught his mouth in a deep kiss filled withgratitude.When they finally separated, he pressed their foreheads together andsighed.

“You make me happy,” Derek whispered against Briar’s damplips.“I hate that it seems like I’m keeping you a secret, but my folks are old and fragilenow.I can’t put more hardship onthem.But that doesn’t change how I feel aboutyou.”

“I know.” Briar hugged him tight and took the biggest leap he’d everfaced.“I’m here because I love you,Derek.I’ve been looking for you…for such a longtime.I just never knew it. Now that I’ve found you, I’m not going to complain about thedetails.I’ll take you any way I can get.”

“God, Briar.” Derek cupped his head against his chest and bent his head over him, sheltering him.His heart pounded, loud and fast, against Briar’sear.“Nothing’s ever scared me likeyou.”

“That’s me! Terrifying!” Briar bared his teeth and gave a playful little roar to lighten the mood. “Better watch your step from nowon.”

It didn’t upset him that Derek hadn’t said he loved himback.Derek had given him histrust.

For a man like him, that was something even more rare andspecial.

Chapter Twenty-Three

DEREK

As spring turned to summer and the weeks melted together, Derek convinced himself he wasn’t being selfish.Briar was happy with him. Even if he’d wanted flashy outings, they weren’t easy to come by in a place like Sweetwater.Derek took care of him in other ways.He paid attention to Briar’s moods, complimented his clothes and hair, cooked for him, played with him.He took Briar and Sabbath for long walks down the old logging road that ran behind his cabin, and he didn’t even complain when Briar accidentally-on-purpose started leaving Sabbath at his place. For some reason, it didn’t seem as critical for him to force himself not to care anymore.

Derek had never known happiness like this before—the kind that didn’t disappear when he opened his eyes the next morning.He fed on Briar’s smiles. They were so pure, as if he’d never been through all the loneliness and hardship that Derek knew he had.Briar’s character was so strong that he was able to experience so much pain and still come out the other side believing in people.He greeted every small gesture Derek made with simple childish delight.It didn’t matter if it was as humble as a spray of wildflowers scooped from the vacant lot across from the junkyard, or as elaborate as a refurbished Jeep Cherokee with a giant red bow stuck to the hood.

“I can’t take something like this!” Briar had tried to protest.

Derek had shoved him up against the fender and kissed away his objections, but every time he let up, Briar took a breath to start complaining again.So, Derek kissed him again—and again.He kissed him until Briar’s lips were swollen and his eyes were glassy.Until he’d lost the ability to speak.And then he tucked Briar’s head beneath his chin and whispered, “I love seeing you smile, Briar, but I’m not just giving you things to make you happy.I’m giving you pieces of my life.Ways to fit into my world. Because that’s where you belong.”

“Derek…” Briar’s heart was in his eyes.He searched Derek’s face, looking for something, waiting for something, but Derek couldn’t give it to him.

He loved Briar in every way he could without actually saying the words.As the lazy summer evenings rolled in, he dared to hope that things might go on that way forever.

---