Violated (28 page)

Derek made a sour face, clearly not convinced. “What’s the DA going to do about it?”

“I don’t know,” Russ answered truthfully.

T
HEY
’
D
FLOWN
down to Florida on a Thursday, and they now had the rest of Friday and all day Saturday to chill in or around Tampa before their flight back on Sunday. Russ intended to make the most of it—not only for Derek’s sake, but also his. After his long weekend in Vermont, he’d had to beg and call in favors to get a couple of guys on the force to switch shifts with him in order to take two more days off. He’d had to trade his next two days off. But it was worth it to be there for Derek. The worst part was over, so he had two evenings left to show Derek what a romantic mofo he could be when they weren’t sitting around their cabins drinking beer and scratching themselves. Last night had been a good start. He wasn’t kidding himself that Derek had loved every minute of it. It was obvious he hadn’t slept much. But the kiss this morning had given Russ hope.

“Do you need to go back to the house?” he asked when they reached the car.

Derek gave him an appraising look and quirked up a corner of his mouth. “You’re taking care of me again, aren’t you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You think I need to nap or something, after dredging all this shit up again.”

“Well… maybe. I know it takes a lot out of you.”

Derek drew closer and looked him straight in the eye. “You’re really awesome. You know that?” He smiled, his hazel eyes a smoldering gray in the afternoon light. “I think I’m okay. I could use a cup of coffee, though.”

Russ had to wait a moment for his heart to start beating again before he could respond. “Yeah,” he said. “Coffee would be good.”

T
HEY
DECIDED
to leave the car in the lot, since it was only a couple of blocks to Indigo Coffee. Russ had never been there, but he looked up coffee shops on his phone and it looked promising. Fortunately it turned out to be pleasant, with bar-style seating at the long counter and groupings of comfortable cushioned chairs near the windows.

Russ ordered a regular black coffee for himself and was surprised when Derek ordered a cappuccino and then loaded it with sugar.

“You like those?” he asked.

“No comments about ‘gay coffee,’ please. I just happen to like cappuccinos.”

“That’s not gay coffee,” Russ said with a smirk. “Gay coffee has to be made with low-fat milk and have at least one flavored syrup added.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes,” Russ replied. “It’s a law.” Derek rolled his eyes at him, but he didn’t care. He now knew what to get Derek for Christmas—a home cappuccino maker.

Score!

As they took seats by the window, Derek glanced outside at a woman walking her Pomeranian and sighed. “I have a strong desire to call the kennel and ask them put Gracie on the phone.”

Russ laughed. “Well, you could try it, but I’m not sure they’d indulge you.” They were both kenneling their dogs at Great Bay Kennel, where Max had been going for most of the time Russ had owned him. They were great about walking the dogs and pampering them. Max always seemed happy to go back. But holding the phone to a dog’s ear so her master could coo at her might be a bit much, even for them.

“Probably not. I just miss her.”

“We’ll be back in two days.”

Derek smiled at him, then turned to gaze out the window at people walking by on the sidewalk. They sipped their drinks in companionable silence for a minute or so. Then Russ decided to bite the bullet.

“Will you go out with me tonight?”

“Where?”

“There are plenty of nice restaurants in the area.” He’d already consulted with his parents about some of the ones they liked and looked them up on Google Maps.

Derek gave him a puzzled look, and then the light seemed to dawn. “Dude! Are you asking me out on a date?”

Russ shrugged, suddenly self-conscious. “Well… yeah.” There was a long silence, during which he felt his stomach sinking.
Please don’t say “Let’s just be friends….”

“Huh,” Derek said, looking down into his cappuccino. “I guess I’ve already begun to think of us as dating.”

“Then it shouldn’t be that big a leap,” Russ said hopefully.

Derek set his drink down on the coffee table and leaned closer. “I would love to go out with you.”

Russ grinned back at him. “Cool.”

D
EREK
HADN
’
T
really brought any good clothes with him. Tim had tossed most of his best clothes in the mud, and some of them hadn’t fared well, even after dry-cleaning. At any rate, he hadn’t thought he’d need them on this trip, so he’d just brought jeans and T-shirts, along with a light jacket. But when they were rummaging through their suitcases in the guest bedroom, Russ drew out a couple of items of clothing and held them up for his inspection.

“What do you think of these?”

Derek looked closely at the slacks and black dress shirt he held up. “I think they’re
mine
.”

“They are,” Russ admitted. “I snagged them from your closet when I was helping you pack.”

“You’re wearing my clothes?”

“No, idiot. I brought them for you to wear, in the event I was able to lure you out to dinner. I think they’d look really good on you.”

“Fine,” Derek said, taking them from him. “We’ll go out to dinner, then I’ll report you to the police for theft.”

“You do that.”

Russ had brought clothes of his own, of course. He offered to change in the bathroom, but Derek told him to stay there. “I’ve slept with you in your underwear,” he pointed out. “I can deal with you changing in the same room with me.”

It was a lie, but not a very big one. He was still nervous when Russ stepped out of his pants. The door was closed and Russ’s parents were out in the kitchen. But he sucked it up. Some things just had to be pushed through.

Derek distracted himself by changing into his own dress clothes. When he turned around, Russ was standing on the other side of the bed in light brown slacks and a beige V-neck pullover that hugged his torso, clinging to every contour of his chest and abs. Derek felt his pulse quicken, and for once, anxiety had nothing to do with it. “Wow,” he said, his breath giving out halfway through the word. He cleared his throat and added, “You look… incredible.”

Russ smiled. “So do you.”

There was a floor-length mirror on the wall behind Russ, and Derek noticed himself in it for the first time. What he saw shocked him. The man in the mirror was tall and muscular with good torso definition and biceps that stretched the sleeves of his shirt. He had a strong jaw and hazel eyes that looked smoky gray.
Is that me?
It was like looking at a different person. Derek no longer felt tall or broad-shouldered. He felt as if he’d wasted away to nothing, a spindly little weakling, someone so frail a falling leaf could crush him. This man in the mirror looked strong and even handsome, especially in the black slacks and body-hugging black shirt.

Derek raised his eyebrows.
Pretty snazzy
.

T
HEY
WENT
to a Japanese restaurant and sushi bar called Yokohama. Russ let Derek choose it from a stack of menus his dad had picked up before they arrived, and he had to admit it was a good choice. It was quiet with koto music playing softly over the speaker system, and the tables around the edge of the dining room were designed so diners had to remove their shoes and kneel on padded benches.

Russ attempted to use chopsticks with the small cubes of chicken katsu they ordered for an appetizer, but he had trouble getting them to scissor correctly. Derek seemed to be managing fine, but after Russ had dropped a piece of chicken three times, he snickered and set his chopsticks down.

Reaching across the table, Derek took Russ’s hands in his and said, “Here. Rest this one in the crook of your thumb…. That’s it. Now hold it steady with these two fingers….”

After a little instruction, Russ was able to get the motion down, at least well enough to pick up the damned chicken katsu. He succeeded in transporting it to his mouth and was delighted to discover it was delicious. The chicken melted in his mouth. “Oh, this is amazing!”

“Yes, it is.”

“So I take it this isn’t your first time eating with these accursed things.”

“No,” Derek said, smiling. “Tim and I used to go out for Japanese a lot.”

Russ didn’t particularly want the date to evoke memories of Tim, but he could hardly demand they change restaurants at this point. Besides, it was a nice place.

Seeming to sense the direction of Russ’s thoughts, Derek added, “Don’t worry. Japanese food wasn’t our ‘thing’ or anything like that. We went to a lot of restaurants. I just happen to love Japanese cuisine.”

“Good.”

“From now on,” Derek said, leaning forward, “whenever I think of Japanese food, I’ll think of you fumbling with your chopsticks.”

Russ snorted. “Terrific.”

“Do you like sushi?”

“I have no idea.”

Derek raised his brows in surprise. “Well, to start with, do you like fish?”

“Yes,” Russ replied.

“Do you trust me to order some sushi rolls for us to split?”

“Go for it.”

Derek ordered, and when the sushi arrived, Russ discovered he didn’t actually like it. Fish was one thing—
raw
fish was something else. And one of the horrid things had
suckers
on it! There were some rolls he thought were okay, such as the one with a slab of sweetened egg. And he loved the fried sweet potato roll. But in general, sushi was not a resounding hit.

“That’s okay,” Derek said, after he’d finished off what Russ couldn’t eat. “They have chicken and beef too.”

“At least I won’t have fish breath later,” Russ pointed out.

“Touché. I’ll brush my teeth before we go to bed.”

That sounded a little like Derek expected them to share a bed again tonight. If that was true, Russ thought it had been worth choking down a few things that felt like slimy rubber.

F
ROM
THE
way Russ’s blue eyes softened, Derek could tell he’d picked up on his meaning. Not that he was promising much. The thought of sex still made him feel nauseous, so they’d have to sleep in their underwear again. But part of him wanted Russ in his bed, while at the same time another part of him was uncomfortable with the idea.

He wasn’t sure, but maybe the part that wanted it was finally growing stronger than the part that was afraid of it. It might still be a while before he’d be ready for anything sexual. Would Russ really be willing to wait?

For now, at least, Russ seemed happy to put up with him, so he’d try to enjoy it. Russ was trying his damnedest to make this a romantic evening, and that itself made it romantic for Derek. If only he wasn’t so goddamned broken. Russ deserved better than what Derek could offer.

Stop it!
he ordered himself.
You’re having dinner with someone you really like, and he seems to like you back. Can’t you enjoy it for five fucking minutes without whining?

It wasn’t easy, but he tried to relax. Russ was pleasant company, and his fumbling attempts at navigating Japanese cuisine were endearing. Whenever Derek caught his eye, the warmth he found there amazed him. No man had ever looked at him quite like that.

A
FTER
DINNER
,
Russ took him out for coffee. They could have simply remained at the restaurant and ordered dessert, but both agreed that few restaurants had decent coffee. It wasn’t worth the risk. So they went back to Indigo. There were other cafés near the restaurant, of course, but the Indigo was familiar and on the way home. Besides, they already knew they liked it.

It was busy, since it was a Friday night, but they found a small table in the corner. Russ asked Derek to guard the table while he went up to the counter to order. “Do you want the same half-gay coffee you got last time?” he asked.

“You think it’s only
half
-gay now?”

Russ made a cup out of his left hand, then patted the top with his right. “Fluffy, but with manly whole milk—and no syrup.”

“Ah,” Derek said. “Yeah, that’ll be fine.”

He watched with amusement as Russ went to the counter and tried to describe the coffee in exactly the same manner, using the same gestures.

The barista watched the performance with a confused expression, finally asking loudly enough for Derek to overhear, “You mean a cappuccino?”

Russ shrugged and looked helplessly over at Derek, who nodded. Russ smiled and gave the barista a thumbs-up.

You adorable dork
.

At least Russ remembered Derek liked a couple of sugars with his cappuccino. “I think I offended him,” he commented, setting the cups down on the table and placing the sugar and a stirrer beside Derek’s.

“Maybe he doesn’t think of coffee as having a sexual orientation.”

“Oh.” Russ glanced back at the barista before taking his seat. “I guess that wasn’t very politically correct.”

Derek shrugged. Political correctness had never really been his bugaboo. “Thanks for the cappuccino.”

“You’re welcome.”

The rest of the date went well. The place wasn’t crowded enough to make them uncomfortable, and there was mellow jazz playing over the speakers, so it was possible to talk. They talked about everything from dogs to the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday weekend—Derek had no plans, but Russ had been invited to his sister’s—to buckling the cabins down for the winter. They carefully avoided the subject of the rape, until Derek brought it up in an oblique way.

“Do you mind if I tell you something?” he asked, not sure if he really should.