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Honestly, it isn’t that I totally hate my whole name. But, my parents and I don’t get along. Their persistent nagging about going by it and not the shortened version, causes me to rebel even harder.
But when Derek says it…dammit.He makes it sound so good. On more than one occasion, I’ve fantasized about him pressing his lips close to my ear and whispering it in a low, gritty tone. I like the way he bites down on the T sound at the end. It’s breathy and sharp and makes me feel things.
“So what’s wrong?” he asks, pulling me from my thoughts about his perfect voice.
“Huh?” I ask, confused.
“Why is your life shit?” He laughs, then takes a bite of his sandwich.
“Oh, right,” I say, getting back on track. “Honestly, calling it shit implies there’s a life being lived. I lead a rather boring existence these days.”
“What about that guy you were dating?” he asks, and I try to recall who he might be talking about.
“Colt?” I laugh. We broke up like a year ago. Not exactly current news.”
“Oh, shit,” he says. “Sorry, my information is clearly outdated.”
“And anyway, it wasn’t that serious,” I add, taking a bite of my own sandwich. “Oh my god, this sandwich is perfect.”
“Yeah, I remembered you like your onions grilled. And cheddar instead of provolone,” he says.
“You remember my sandwich preferences?” I ask, my throat unexplainably tight.
“Of course.” He shrugs. “Hell, I’ve known you almost twenty years.”
We share a small laugh, and though I want to read more into him remembering my order, he’s right. By sheer proximity and length of acquaintance, I shouldn’t be surprised at all.
The office grows quiet, the only noise our chewing, when the door opens. I find Hawk heaving, like he’s been running.
“Hey, man,” Derek says to him. “You okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, just some heavy lifting,” Hawk says.
“What heavy lifting?” I ask, injecting myself into their exchange.
“I pulled up to like ten gallons of paint sitting outside,” he says. “So I brought them in.”
“What?” I snap. “That fucker left them outside?”
“I mean, that’s where they were,” Hawk says.
The vendor we’re using for the expansion first said the paint was delayed, then tried saying he couldn’t get it here for four weeks. I told him that was unacceptable and to find a way to get it here today as promised. Now this asshole wants to leave it outside?
“I’ll handle that as soon as I’m done eating,” I warn, my voice nearly a growl.
Hawk waves it off. His attitude as of late is that nothing is ever a big deal. At least since Drew and Ava entered his life. “Don’t worry about it,” he says, swiping the third sandwich off the desk and rocking back into one of the chairs.
Then he turns to Derek. “How’s the apartment hunt going, brother?”
Derek groans quite loudly at the mention of it. “Dude, I’m about to be homeless. I can’t find shit I like.”
“That sucks. Are you going to have to extend where you are?” Hawk asks.
“I can’t,” Derek says, shaking his head. “No way.”
“Well, I hope you find something then,” Hawk says.
“I’m glad you’re so concerned for me,” Derek says, giving his brother a wry smile. “Because I was hoping I could crash with you if I run out of time?”
