The office is close to the locked Alzheimer's unit. Once I fork over some money, I make it partway down the hall before a shock of blond hair catches my attention through a window. It's to one of the commons facilities with tables, televisions, and a small stage where folks come in to entertain once a month.
I cock my head, unable to believe what I see.
As someone opens the door to leave, I catch it before it closes, and listen.
"Okay … watch this trick next, Randy." Derek looks at a gentleman in a wheelchair and then at the group of about ten other patients around him. "Friends," he adds with a smile.
I watch with rapt attention like the patients do while Derek performs a silly magic trick, cracking jokes the whole time. When he's finished, they all clap and cheer for him. It's obvious they're familiar with him.
They know him.
This doesn't feel like the same man who stumbled into my Jeep.
"Will you teach me to dance one time?" an elderly woman asks him.
"Yes, ma'am. I absolutely will. I'm a fucking awesome dancer."
I don't know why, but I roll my eyes at his reply. Still, as I do there's a smile on my face and my heart is racing. Who the hell is this guy?
I would never have expected this.
"What about you, Randy? What do you want me to teach you?" Derek kneels beside the man, looking at him with so much affection, I feel as though I'm doing something wrong by watching. Like I'm invading a private moment between them.
He wouldn't want me to see this. I know he wouldn't.
And I can understand that.
Which is why, as much as I want to stay, I slink out.
I don't stop thinking about it the whole drive to my apartment.
An hour later, as I'm sitting in front of the television, Derek is still on my mind.
4
Derek
I jog between Gary and Hayden in Boulder Crest Park, just a few blocks from Metropolis-the condo building we all live in.
We've worked up a sweat. In a pair of blue running shorts, shirtless, Hayden wears a black armband that holds his iPhone. His dark hair is gelled to the side. I've mentioned he needs to come by the salon for a trim before I start hacking at it with a pair of scissors. I trimmed Gary's thick sandy-blond hair the other day, and I deserve an award for that since his cowlick is fucking unmanageable.
We've been meeting up the past few weeks to train for the Alzheimer's 10K-something Gary and Hayden can't understand the importance of to me because I haven't told them about my uncle, Randy. I was just glad they didn't ask questions when I told them I wanted to sign up to be around all the hottie runners.
I notice an older guy doing burpees on the grass beside the walkway we're running on. His chest hair reminds me of my encounter with Jackson a few weeks ago.
As we pass him, I growl.
"Down, boy," Hayden teases.
"Careful with that growl," Gary adds as he lifts his tank up to wipe his brow. "Sounds a little masc. You wouldn't want anyone mistaking you for a top."
Hayden chuckles. "Yeah, you don't want to confuse all the guys on your big gay cruise in October."
"Oh, there will not be any confusion. I have not been busting my ass with cardio and weights for the past few months so that I can be hot as fuck for nothing."
Gary rolls his eyes. " 'Cause we wouldn't want anything to get in the way of you getting some dick."
"Don't be jelly, Gare-bear. I know it sucks now that you guys are tied to your long-term relationships with your top shelf man-beef"-Gary and Hayden have amazing boyfriends, so even though I give them a hard time, I don't actually think they're tied down at all-"slung up in your condos, taking it up the ass."
"And giving it up the ass," Hayden corrects.
"Yeah," Gary says. "Technically you're the only power bottom among the three of us."
"And proud of it!"
"As you should be," Hayden says. "Someone has to take care of all those needy tops' needs."
"And don't think my job is easy. Speaking of needy tops, you guys game for going out tonight?"
Gary shakes his head. "Oh no. You don't get to go out considering what happened the other week."
"That was like a month ago!"
"It was three weeks ago, and it doesn't matter when it was. It wasn't cool."
"You scared us all," Hayden says before pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose-the way he does sometimes when he's getting serious.
"I'm sorry. I made a mistake. I drank too much. Things happen."
I'm acting nonchalant about it, but I know it was more than just a few too many drinks. It's one of the reasons I haven't pushed to go out since then. I'm not proud of what happened, and even though I've downplayed the incident when I've discussed it with Hayden and Gary, it scared me. Because yeah, I'm game to run around town and hop into bed with whoever the fuck I want, but I'm not an idiot about it … usually. And I don't get trashed and look for trouble. That night, I was lucky a good guy took care of me. But I know better than most that there aren't a lot of good guys in this world. That there are plenty who would have taken advantage or left me on the side of the curb.