Page 23 of Devil’s Kiss (Sunset Cove #2)

One Week Later

J ORDAN SAT ON his couch staring at reruns of some city’s “real” housewives as he sipped on a glass of Cab Sav.

He wasn’t really paying any attention, though, as one of the main women slapped another across the face, and considering what a spectacular blow it was, that was saying something.

Usually he would be on the edge of his seat cheering a bitch on. But that wasn’t happening right now.

No .

He was too busy replaying for the millionth time the voice message he’d received from Derek the other day while he’d been in class.

“Hey, Devaney, by the time you get this I’ll be out of your hair and house for good.

I think it’s the best for everyone. It’s nothing personal, you know.

I just don’t think it’s smart to stay with you anymore after…

well, after what happened with my father.

” Derek paused, and Jordan still wondered what he’d really been thinking when he ended the call, because his lame “It’s been cool” wasn’t it. Of that, Jordan was positive.

That message had been followed by one that was short and to the point: “Oh, and Devaney, don’t try and change my mind either, okay? I know you’ll want to. But it’s time for me to move on. I’ll see you around.”

Then the message ended.

Impossible man , Jordan thought, as he tossed his phone down on the couch.

He had no idea where Derek had gone, but when Jordan had gotten home that afternoon, he sure as hell hadn’t been there. The empty spare room had made it seem as if he’d never been there, and Jordan hadn’t been prepared for how much that hurt.

For the rest of the week that followed, he’d been obsessed with tracking Derek down.

He’d waited in the gym’s parking lot like a total stalker, and even waited outside of Brantley’s class to see if Daniel met up with him—but nothing.

It was as if Derek had disappeared off the face of the planet, perhaps so he could heal, and finally Jordan had caved and called him, only to be greeted with his voicemail.

That’d been on Wednesday, and now here he was on Friday night still worrying over the thoughtless jerk.

He wasn’t really a jerk, though. Jordan knew why Derek had done what he had. He thought he was protecting him. But would it have killed him to let Jordan know where he was? That he was safe and okay?

Sighing, Jordan stood, headed out to the balcony, and looked out at the lights lining the path along the beach. He missed him. That he hadn’t expected.

It wasn’t as if they’d spent hours hanging out or anything like that, but it had been nice to come home to someone each night.

He wasn’t sure if it was Derek in particular or just the comfort of another human being in his life, but clearly Derek was determined to do this his way, and who was Jordan to stop him?

They both had very different lives, and it was time Jordan got on with his.

He needed to get out, needed to go and meet some new people.

Yes, that was what he’d do. If Derek wanted to be left alone, then Jordan would follow his wishes. After all, the guy knew where he was should he ever need him.

DEREK CLIMBED THE flights of stairs to the top balcony that ran across the front of four apartment doors and prayed this was not going to be a dead end.

He must’ve gone to six— no, seven —“interviews” with potential roommates this week, and each one, for some reason or other, hadn’t been the right fit.

He’d figured this was the best route for him, since rooming with Jordan had turned out pretty well considering, so he really needed this to pan out. It was the last one on his first-choice list, and the idea of a weekend at Motel Hell wasn’t something he was looking forward to.

He walked down to the final door and checked the paper in his hand and the number in front of him.

Yep, this is it, he thought, as he gripped the straps of his backpack and shut his eyes, sending up a quick prayer.

After taking in a deep breath, he exhaled and raised a hand to knock, but before his knuckles connected with the wood, the door swung open.

Derek startled and took a step back. “Shit. You gave me a heart attack.”

He heard a chuckle come from the guy in front of him and saw a man wearing a wetsuit and holding a surfboard under his arm. Actually, he was half wearing a wetsuit, because it was unzipped and hanging on the guy’s hips.

When the surfer stepped out the front door and leaned his board up against the wall, Derek stood there like an idiot until he turned and aimed a smile at him. That was when Derek got his first good look at his face and was struck by the sheer perfection of it.

The guy had brown hair, cut short on the sides, and up top the strands were longer, with light highlights, probably from his time in the sun.

His eyes were the color of green sea glass, and with the sun setting and casting a golden glow over everything it touched, it gave the guy an almost ethereal look.

Hell, is it possible that surfer guy ’ s my guardian angel? Derek thought with uncharacteristic optimism. God only knew he could do with one at this point.

No matter who he was, though, he was fucking gorgeous. Beautiful, in fact.

When Derek realized he’d been staring a little too hard, he averted his gaze and looked over his shoulder to the road that separated the small apartment building from the beach. The guy hadn’t said anything yet, and since he hadn’t told him to get lost, Derek figured he must be in the right place.

“So,” Derek started, searching for something…anything, really. “I’m the guy who called about the spare room.”

Jesus. Pretty sure he knows that, he chided himself as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his shorts and fiddled with his phone.

He was well aware he didn’t look his best. The cut above his eye was finally starting to heal, but it had one hell of a nasty color highlighting it, not to mention what was under his sunglasses.

He just hoped surfer guy didn’t take one look at his face then, let’s face it, his tattoos, and say, Forget it, dude.

The man said nothing like that, though. Instead, he looked over his shoulder at his surfboard and then back to him. “Yeah, I figured. I was hoping you’d get here soon because I really wanted to hit the waves, and here you are. Perfect timing.”

Oh, thank God. “Yeah, I would’ve come earlier, but work was slammed.”

“No sweat. Let me show you the place real quick so you can see what you think, and we can go from there.”

Derek nodded, and when the guy opened the door and held it for him, Derek stepped forward and said, “I haven’t seen you around here before.”

The guy’s eyes travelled over Derek’s face then down to his chest, and as they drifted lower, Derek hoped his body fucking behaved, because wow, that stare was bold.

After what felt like several minutes, instead of the few seconds it had really taken, the surfer’s gorgeous eyes came back up to lock with Derek’s, and he shrugged. “No, you wouldn’t have. I’m new to town. Family moved this way a few months back and I arrived a couple of weeks ago.”

“Gotcha. That makes sense.”

“Does it?”

Derek nodded. “Yeah. Most everyone knows everyone in Sunset Cove. And as a village native, I would’ve remembered you.”

A twinkle lit the guy’s eyes, and he grinned. “You think so, huh?”

Derek felt his pulse skip at the interest in that look and those words. Surfer guy was flirting with him.

“I do,” Derek said, and held his hand out. “I’m Derek Pearson.”

Surfer guy looked down and then slipped his hand into Derek’s large palm.

After they greeted one another, Derek figured that would be that, but when the guy didn’t immediately release his hand and instead held Derek’s stare with a teasing one of his own, Derek felt a grin curve his mouth.

He’d had such a shit week, and honestly, this guy’s flirtation was a welcome distraction.

“I’m Dylan Prescott. And you are seriously built. God . Do you live at a gym?”

Not expecting that at all, Derek couldn’t help the laugh that rumbled free. “Nah. But I work at one.”

“Well, shit. You’re a great promo for them.”

“You think so, huh ?” Derek joked, throwing Dylan’s words back at him. If he thought for one second he would embarrass him, though, Derek had another thing coming. Because daring as you please, Dylan’s eyes lit as they tracked him again.

“I do. Damn …”

Oh shit, guy isn’t shy, that’s for sure. Derek wanted to say something quick-witted, but he kept getting so stuck on how beautiful Dylan’s face was that he found it difficult to string two coherent words together. In the end he settled for the obvious. “I kinda need my hand back.”

One side of Dylan’s mouth pulled up, and as that grin grew wider to extend into the same smile from earlier, two dimples appeared on either side of his cheeks, and Derek thought it was a miracle his knees didn’t buckle.

How was one guy so fucking blessed in the looks department?

“Yeah, okay. I guess I can give it back.” Dylan let go of Derek’s hand and gestured inside with a tilt of his head. “Come on. I’ll show you around.”

The tour was quick. The place would’ve fit into Jordan’s living room, but it was clean and didn’t smell funky, and when Dylan shoved open the door at the far end of the hall and said that would be Derek’s room, he felt the weight he’d been carrying around this week lift from his shoulders.

“So what do you think?”

Derek turned back to see Dylan standing with his arms crossed over his naked chest. “It’s perfect.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Exactly what I’m looking for.”

“Great. Then it’s yours.”

When Dylan left to walk back down to the small kitchen, Derek frowned and asked, “Do you want references? I can?—”

“Nope.”

No? What the…? Everyone wanted references. Derek didn’t really want to go to Jordan for one, but he would, and he could get one from his job, but— “What do you mean, no?”