Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
DEREK
Mark and Alex are already inside when I get home.
Mark’s jacket is draped over the back of a chair like he lives here. Alex is in my kitchen, fridge open, judging me silently.
“You know,” Alex says, “for a man who owns three properties, your snack situation is aggressively depressing.”
“It’s late,” I say, dropping my keys on the counter. “Why are you here?”
Mark glances at me. Doesn’t smile. “You didn’t answer your phone.”
“I was out.”
“No shit,” Alex says, finally shutting the fridge. “You smell like good decisions followed by bad ones.”
I don’t respond. I pour myself a drink instead. The good bottle. That alone makes Mark’s eyebrows lift.
Alex notices too. “Oh. We’re drinking-drinking.”
I take a swallow, let it burn. “She went home.”
That gets their attention.
Mark shifts, arms folding loosely. “Audra?”
“Yes.”
Alex leans back against the counter. “And?”
“And that’s it.”
Alex snorts. “That’s never just it.”
I scrub a hand over my face. “We had dinner. Talked. It was… good.”
Mark watches me carefully. “You don’t look wrecked.”
“I’m not,” I say. Then, after a beat, “Which is the problem.”
Alex tilts his head. “You didn’t sleep with her.”
“No.”
“But,” he prompts.
“But we fooled around,” I say flatly. “In the car.”
Alex’s grin starts automatically—then fades when he sees my expression.
“Oh,” he says. “Oh.”
Mark speaks quietly. “And it mattered.”
“Yes.”
Alex lets out a low whistle. “Jesus, Pierce.”
I take another drink. “I knew it would. That’s why I shouldn’t have done it.”
“But you did,” Mark says.
“I did,” I agree. “And I let her know it mattered. That’s on me.”
Alex crosses his arms. “Okay, but let’s be clear — this isn’t Sunday.”
My jaw tightens. “I know.”
“You screwed up Sunday because you were avoiding,” he continues. “Tonight? That was you choosing.”
Mark nods once. “That’s the difference.”
I stare down at the glass. “I went home with someone Sunday night just to prove I could.”
Alex grimaces. “Yeah, that tracks—”
Mark cuts him a look.
Alex sighs. “That makes sense. In the worst way.”
“She doesn’t know,” I say.
Silence stretches.
Mark finally asks, “Are you going to tell her?”
I think of Audra’s laugh. The way she trusted me to order for her. The way she held my gaze afterward like she wasn’t afraid of what she’d see there.
“I don’t think so,” I say. “We weren’t together. I didn’t lie.”
Mark studies me. “You didn’t tell the truth either.”
Alex nods slowly. “And she’s not the kind of woman who’ll care about technicalities.”
“No,” I admit. “She’ll care about timing.”
“And meaning,” Mark adds.
I close my eyes briefly. “It meant something to her.”
Alex’s voice softens. “And to you.”
“Yes.”
That lands heavier than anything else tonight.
Mark exhales. “Then you’re already late.”
I open my eyes. “Late for what.”
“For being honest,” he says. “Or for hurting her. One of the two.”
Alex pushes off the counter. “You don’t get to have it both ways, man. You don’t get to treat her like she’s different and then hide behind the rules.”
I don’t argue. Because they’re right.
I drain the rest of my drink. “Fuck.”
Alex gives a humorless smile. “Yeah.”
Mark claps a hand on my shoulder once. “Just don’t wait too long. She doesn’t strike me as someone who forgives being underestimated.”
They leave a few minutes later. The house feels quieter than it should.
I stand there longer than necessary, replaying her voice. Her trust.
Knowing exactly how badly this is going to go if I don’t handle it right.
And knowing I already might not have.