Page 31 of You've Always Been Mine

But what if he wants you?

I don’t let the hopeful thought linger in my head. It’ll make any disappointment that much more difficult to process.

I’m not sure how, but I wind up standing at the window in Derek’s childhood bedroom, staring at the quiet street down below. Derek is somewhere downstairs. I can hear him moving around. I take a sip of the water still in my hands, once again reminded of our time together in St. Kitts.

Wanting to distract my mind from wandering down that train of thought, I turn and let my eyes trail over the room. The navy blue sheets and gray duvet are the same as I remember from our teenage years. I can’t count the number of times I’ve been in this room, innocently hanging out with my male best friend. Then puberty hit, and I began to daydream about being here for not-so-innocent reasons.

“There you are.” Derek appears in the doorway, looking sexy in his dark blue, V-neck shirt that accentuates his trim waist and pecs.

“Here I am.”

“Look what I found.” He holds up a DVD case.

I cross the room and laugh when I recognize the cover of my and Derek’s favorite TV show from high school. “I can’t believe you still have that!”

“Why wouldn’t I still have it?”

“I don’t know. Everything’s available to stream nowadays. Most people I know have gotten rid of their DVDs.”

“Yeah, but this was a gift from you. There’s no way I would get rid of it.”

My heart swells. “That’s sweet of you to say.”

“And I mean it.” Derek looks at the bulky, twenty-inch TV sitting on his dresser. An old gaming console rests on top, serving as the room’s DVD player.

“Want to watch an episode in here or the game room?” He mentions the loft overlooking the main living area of the Lawson home.

As tempting as it would be to snuggle with Derek on his twin bed to watch the show, I chicken out and say, “The game room TV is bigger.”

He nods and motions for me to follow before he walks down the long hall towards the game room. My stomach is in knots as I settle on the well-used futon in front of the flat screen. Derek kneels by the TV to put in the DVD. I take the opportunity to admire the way his back muscles ripple under his shirt and how his thick brown hair curls at the base of his skull. He wore it longer when we were younger, but I think I like this style better.

The comedy’s opening credits and theme song begin. Derek stands and walks over to sit next to me and says, “I haven’t seen this show in forever.”

The cushion dips from his weight, making my body slide closer to his. I don’t move away.

“Me either.” My next thought makes me crack a smile. “Do you remember how I teased you about being like the main character?” The show follows a group of guy friends, all geniuses, but each of them is a little socially inept. One of the leads, specifically, struggles the most with fitting in, but he’s so smart he hardly cares.

Derek snorts. “Of course, I remember. And for the record, I still disagree with the assessment.”

“Oh, come on. You know I’m right.” My grin grows. “Remember the episode where he gets asked out and doesn’t realize it? Sound familiar?”

A brow arches. “Are we joking about that now?”

I nod. “I think we should.” The sting from feeling rejected remains, but after hearing Derek’s side of the story, and his confession about how he felt about me in high school, the pain has already lessened significantly.

His features soften. “Good. I’m glad.”

I look back at the TV, but I’m too distracted by his lingering stare to pay attention to the show.

My heart is racing. I’m aware of every breath Derek takes—every shift of his body on the futon when he finally looks away from me and focuses on the show. My desire and nerves are wound tightly—anticipation is building—and it isn’t long before the dam breaks.

“Did you mean what you said?” I murmur, breaking the silence between us. I half expect him not to hear me. Part of me even hopes he doesn’t. Fear of continued heartbreak is hard to get rid of despite the night’s revelations.

“About what?” Derek asks.

“About how you felt about me.” I hold my breath as I await his answer.

He rotates his torso so he’s facing me. He pauses, likely waiting for me to look at him, but I’m frozen in place, staring blankly at the TV.

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