Hearsay (25 page)

Roman averted his eyes and curled up on his side. He felt a tingling sensation on his face that was probably the physical manifestation of the shame and stigma attached to his condition. The tingling was promptly followed by a tremor in his shoulders. Tears escaped his eyes and slid down his burning cheeks. A second later he was shaking uncontrollably on Derrick's floor, waiting to be told to get lost.

"Goddamnit," he sobbed into his hands, mortified to no end over his total lack of self-control.

And to think he'd believed he would be able to up and go without so much as a backward glance.

He'd been a fucking fool.

"I wasn't ready to disclose my status to you," he blubbered. "The time we've spent together this weekend means the world to me, but I wish I could've left this part out." He wiped his nose again. "I sure as hell wish you'd never seen me like this."

Roman sounded like a coward, but he didn't give a crap about that. Not after breaking down in front of Derrick in such a pitiful way.

It occurred to him this would not have happened had he listened to his sister Jo and made an appointment with the therapist she recommended at least once a week… if he'd gone to counseling and learned to deal with the reality of having HIV.

The thing was, he'd thought he was doing fine.

After the initial shock and subsequent pity-party were over, he'd told his immediate family and four closest friends. As expected, they all had been quick to offer their sympathy and support. Roman thanked them profusely for doing their best to reassure him he still was the same man they knew and loved, but he'd refused to discuss his deepest feelings with any of them.

Instead he'd buried himself in his work. Somehow he'd managed to get out of bed every day to show up at family events, attend professional engagements, socialize, do fun stuff, and even go on pointless blind dates with men Dani kept finding for him. But Roman had been hurting inside. He just hadn't realized how deeply until now.

He extended an arm and patted around the floor until he found a shirt, hoping it was his. "Could I have a moment, please?" he asked after wiping his nose and face.

Derrick got off the floor without saying a word.

Roman's heart thundered in his chest as he waited to see what would happen next, and, ultimately, he exploded into a million tiny pieces when Derrick walked away.

Roman had always known he'd be devastated if Derrick ever disappeared from his life for good. That had been an understatement. Devastation didn't even begin to describe the sense of loss that was already swallowing him whole.

He squeezed his eyes shut and willed himself to stop crying. To collect himself and get dressed. To spare Derrick the second-hand embarrassment of seeing Roman in such a pathetic state.

"It's almost two o'clock in the morning," Derrick informed quietly, startling the shit out of him. He hadn't heard Derrick come back. He hadn't expected he would.

Roman took a deep ragged breath.

He knew this was his cue to leave, but his muscles didn't respond when he tried to move. It was as if anguish and mortification had him rooted to the spot… or perhaps it was faith in the brave man Roman knew lived deep inside Derrick, despite him being already stunted from watching his mom die... despite being scared shitless of loving a sick man.

"The bad shit was supposed to happen at midnight," Derrick added in the same quiet tone. He sounded like he was talking to himself, and he made absolutely no sense. "I would've much preferred leaving my entire shoe collection behind at that fancy hotel." Something warm, soft, and wet brushed against Roman's flaccid cock. It was a washcloth. Derrick was kneeling next to him, cleaning him up. "I would've left my Gucci, flower print, leather low-tops behind even though I love those sneakers. Wear them all the time to go grocery shopping and stuff like that. Also, your car could've turned into a pumpkin… or my spiffy new tuxedo could've turned into rags. Anything would've been preferable to hearing you're seriously sick and going through this horrible situation without me having a clue," he carried on, handling Roman's cock with a tender, loving touch. "I never thought a perfect happily ever after was too much to ask for, but, apparently, it is, and God forbid the stars align and the damn universe gets with my program."

Roman's gaze followed Derrick when he stood up. He cleared his throat, but he still sounded like he'd swallowed gravel when he said, "I would give everything I have just to be the prince of your fairy tale for one more night."

Derrick let out a long sigh. It was obvious he was trying to keep his face composed, but his chin trembled, and his beautiful eyes looked dull when he bent down to pick up their clothes.

Roman's heart broke all over again.

Slowly, Roman got up and stood a few inches apart from Derrick, looking straight at his face. He couldn't risk glancing at the rest of his hot, sexy body. Not if Roman wanted to save what little dignity he had left. Derrick, on the other hand, didn't seem to have the same reservations. He looked Roman up and down so intensely, he made Roman feel stripped to his soul.

He knew that, at the moment, he didn't look like the ruthless criminal defense attorney who had learned to ignore his internal ethical conflicts in order to get his clients the best deals he could. He wasn't powerful, respected, envied, or any of the other things people thought when they looked at him. He was a desperately in love, naked, scared, forty-four year-old man whose body was deteriorating inside and out, praying with all his might for another chance. Roman was sure Derrick could read the vulnerability in his eyes.

"When did you find out?" Derrick whispered minutes later.

"A few days after our last lunch date," Roman whispered back. "I'd heard rumors about James and went to get tested." He took a deep breath and crossed his arms over his chest. "We were together for six years. I thought he was faithful. I mean, he was obsessed with me and our relationship, always talking about how nothing would ever come between us. It never occurred to me he was having unprotected sex with other men. The rest is history."

Derrick snorted. "The
rest
is a lot of bullshit we need to discuss." He brushed the pants on top of the pile he was holding with the back of his hand. "But not tonight," he added. "I can only deal with one bombshell at a time." He turned around and headed towards what Roman assumed was his bedroom. "Do you like Rocky Road?" he asked from inside the room. "I know your favorite is mint chocolate chip, but I only have Rocky Road."

Roman wasn't prepared for the grin that split across his face.

An ice cream binge meant Derrick was conflicted and needed to work things out in his head, but he wasn't showing Roman the door. Not yet, anyway.

Roman threw his head back and stared at the ceiling with blurry eyes.

When he was sure he wouldn't cry again, he rubbed his face with his hands, grabbed his glasses from the entryway console and put them on. Derrick was staring at him from the bedroom door when Roman turned his head. And his eyes didn't look dull anymore.

Thank God.

Roman rolled his shoulders and closed the distance between them, taking the pair of plaid sleeping pants Derrick handed him.

"We're almost the same height, and you've lost a lot of weight," Derrick said, blinking rapidly and touching Roman's face. "This will fit."

Roman could only stare.

"Do you like Ryan Gosling?" Derrick asked, wrapping his arms around Roman's neck. "I'm in the mood for a Nicholas Sparks flick.
The Notebook
is my favorite."

Roman bit the inside of his cheek to keep from crying like a baby, but nothing could've stopped him from picking Derrick up by his waist and burying his face into the curve of Derrick's neck.

Derrick wrapped his legs around his waist effortlessly and hugged him as tightly as Roman needed to be hugged.

"Thank you," Roman rasped, looking Derrick in the eye.

"We have to talk," Derrick said, pecking him on the nose, his pretty eyes shining once again. "I'm not even sure how I feel right now…" He kissed Roman again, and, this time, he meant business. "But you'll always be my prince."

Chapter Sixteen

Having Roman Bradford in his bed had been a recurrent dream of Derrick's for the past five years.

In the beginning, it was all about having dirty, raunchy sex. Derrick had always had a vivid imagination, and he'd been in total lust with his boss from the moment they met. Getting it on with Roman while Derrick was in the land of dreams was to be expected. Heck. Regressing to puberty by waking up from wet dreams had become a normal thing. But then they'd started having brief conversations after work meetings and fortuitous encounters, and Derrick's sexual attraction for Roman had evolved into romantic interest. Consequently, the dream scenarios had changed and started including everything Derrick wanted.

Horny little shit that he was, he'd continued dreaming of getting thoroughly fucked by Roman, but then they would also talk about nothing in particular for the rest of the night. Sometimes they'd go out to the ballet, or have dinner with friends. But more often than not they'd just cuddle on the couch and watch TV. Then there were the dreams during which they'd discuss names for their future kids.

In Derrick's dreams, there were no disagreements between him and Roman, let alone fights. They never argued over mundane stuff such as whose turn it was to do dishes, take out the garbage, or whether they had actually agreed
their
cat could sleep with them on the bed. There was no stress over finances or family members not getting along. No mention of day-to-day crap other than "How was work, dear?" and the answer was always "Busy but invigorating" before settling into their idyllic nightly routine. Everything was always perfect in Derrick's dreams, and he invariably woke up from them with a smile on his face.

He knew real relationships were never
that
sexy and saccharin sweet. That loving couples could be—and often were—unkind towards one another out of anxiety and stress. He didn't yearn for a fantasy world where nothing ever went wrong. He knew better than that. It was only that the reality of not having Roman in his life was harsh enough.

That being said, Derrick couldn't deny his dreams were probably influenced by his life plan. More specifically, by his goal of having his own family by the time he turned thirty-five.

Unlike the majority of his gay friends from college—who still lived to party and to score as much ass as they could—Derrick wanted monogamy. He wanted commitment and domesticity. He wanted to take turns with his partner feeding their baby in the middle of the night, and he wanted annual trips to Disney World. He wanted a family life, which could be one of the reasons most of his dreams about Roman revolved around staying home and making plans.
 

Derrick was seventeen years old when he decided what he wanted to do with his life. Getting his degree and establishing his career were at the top of his list, followed by implementing a financial plan. He would put money away for retirement, a house, adoption fees, and, once he'd saved two hundred grand, he would start kissing frogs in the hopes one would turn into his prince.

He never got around to the kissing frogs part. He hadn't had to look for his man. He'd been signing Derrick's paychecks all along.

Gaze glued to Roman's face, he lifted his hand and traced Roman's stubbly chin with his fingertips. It'd been seven hours since they'd gone to bed, and Derrick still couldn't believe Roman was really here with him.

Solid.

Beautiful.

Deeply troubled, even in his sleep.
 

Derrick leaned forward and brushed Roman's creased brow with his lips before settling back into his own pillow. He took a ragged breath when Roman moved closer and wrapped his arm around Derrick's waist. Derrick couldn't tell whether it was happiness or apprehension tightening his chest, but the truth was, it was getting harder and harder to breath. He didn't know what to do with himself.
 

For years he'd dreamed of waking up next to Roman, and he finally had. This should've been the happiest day of Derrick's life, yet he mostly felt like he'd gone down the rabbit hole.

He'd managed to block all the problems from his mind while he and Roman ate ice cream and watched
The Notebook.
When the movie ended, they'd talked about all the pictures on the hallway walls and Derrick's attachment to his apartment. Then they'd fallen asleep. Avoidance had given Derrick's soul a break, but the second he opened his eyes, he'd been assaulted by an onslaught of emotions.

He was thrilled he'd finally gotten Roman to admit his feelings, but Derrick also felt disappointed and betrayed. He felt cheated out of his perfectly planned future and angry at the entire fucking universe for it. He had never been as scared as he felt at this point in his life. That little prick Robbie Yates and his bullshit accusations could cost Derrick his job and his reputation, and, thanks to HIV, he could lose his man and his own health. Nothing was the way it was supposed to be, and Derrick felt like he could cut that bitch James, but he still loved the man in his arms with everything he had.

Nothing could ever change that.

He'd acknowledged his crush on Roman when he was twenty-seven. Finding out Roman was in a relationship hadn't stopped Derrick from falling in love with him in what felt like a matter of days. He'd continued dreaming of them being together even when he believed Roman wasn't interested in him. Yes, he'd kissed a few frogs along the way—and a couple of perfectly suitable guys—but deep down, he'd known nothing would come of it. Derrick had already found his prince, and he was perfect for him.

Except that, he really wasn't.

Ambitious, charming, confident, generous, humble, friendly, intelligent, sensual, honorable, financially solvent, family-oriented... those were some of the personality traits Derrick had always wanted in his man. Luckily for him, Roman had them all, and then some, plus he was fucking hot, so he wasn't complaining. But Derrick also needed his man to be health-conscious. To watch what he ate, make sure he had an exercise routine, and to visit his doctor regularly. Knowing his partner was proactive about health issues would give Derrick much needed peace of mind. Lots of conditions couldn't be prevented, but an early diagnosis and having the means to pay for medication could make the difference between life and death. Derrick didn't want to be a young widower. He needed his partner to be safe in every way, and that was precisely what Roman had failed to do. As a result, the idiot had gotten himself sick, and now he was scared of putting Derrick at risk.