I could take his hand. It’s right there. I could place my palm to his, shake, and start over. He’s not the same, and neither am I. Time has changed us both and there’s nothing saying we can’t be Derek and Teagan again but grown up.
But by doing that, I’m agreeing to a new start.
His eyes hold mine and I pray he doesn’t see the storm that’s brewing inside of me.
I open my mouth when I see the sadness fill his gaze. “Teagan Berkeley,” I say, taking his peace offering. “It sounds like maybe you’re not such an ass after all. I mean, you did try to keep me from being murdered.”
Derek laughs and shakes my hand. “Maybe I’m not, but I know I’ll do my best to make sure there’s no maybe in it the next time.”
I really hope so because I don’t think I could endure losing him again.
Chapter Nineteen
Teagan
Present
“It looks like he’s not coming,” Derek says after another thirty minutes.
“Maybe he got a look at you and thought you were my date.”
I’m officially dateless and now feel lame. I didn’t tell Derek because I was hoping that he would’ve left so I could’ve snuck out without him ever knowing. Since that didn’t happen, I’ve been stuck here.
Not that I should complain, since what’s-his-face wasn’t really someone I was that excited to spend my night with. I could barely even remember his name. The last hour I’ve laughed, joked, and smiled with Derek.
It’s a little like old times, only with some eggshells under our feet.
He’s asked about my painting. I’ve asked about the animals and his family. A lot of commiserating about single parenting. There’s something really…nice about the night.
“Then I’ve done my job.” He laughs.
“Of what? Scaring off the first date I’ve had in ten years.”
“Ten years?”
Great. I let him know how pathetic I am. Truth is, it’s been longer than that. I haven’t gone on a date since Chastity was born. It’s never felt like the right time. Which is an excuse, I know this, but it worked for me. Not dating wasn’t about Derek as much as it was about the ability to handle one more rejection.
I didn’t love Keith or want to spend my life with him, but I wanted him to care for our daughter. Instead he walked away from her without a single afterthought.
“I’ve been busy.” I shrug and drain the rest of my vodka and cranberry.
“Doing? You just finished telling me how mundane and disappointing you feel your life is.”
I really need to stop drinking. I seem to have loose lips around him thanks to the vodka.
“My point is that if you scared him off, you owe me.”
“Oh, do I?” His grin makes my stomach drop.
I really wish my body would stop doing that.
If I could ignore how cute he is when he smiles, it would make this whole moving on and dating thing a lot easier.
“You do.”
“Okay, then.”
My eyes narrow because that was almost too easy. “Why do I think I walked into a trap?”
“You didn’t. If I ruined your date, I do owe you. We’re a sad pair, the two of us. I’m a widower with a teenager who thinks I’m the worst parent alive. You’re sexless for over ten years with a teenager who has to deal with mine. I think we both are pretty pathetic.”
“I didn’t say I was sexless.” I shrug as he stares at me wide-eyed. “Please, don’t look so shocked.” It’s not like I sleep around, but the one guy that I hooked up with a few years ago was really fun, and I needed some damn fun.
He cracks his neck, trying to hide his discomfort, and then raises his drink. “Here we were, thinking we had our shit together and it turns out we’re a mess.”
“No, I knew I was a mess,” I admit. “I never said otherwise.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Derek says and lifts the glass to his lips, draining the liquid and then motioning for the bartender. “I need four shots. Two each.”
Oh, this is such a bad idea. “Shots? No.”
He rolls his eyes and amends his request. “Make that four shots, two vodka with lemon and sugar and then two tequila.”
I’m already two vodka-and-cranberry deep, which wouldn’t seem so bad, but I don’t drink much. I’m already feeling lightheaded and a little less in control. I should probably leave. The smart thing to do is to walk away before I do something I regret. Then there’s part of me that’s having fun and doesn’t want to go.
Derek is laughing…with me.
I hoped for this so many times. The two of us, just hanging out. I’ve dreamed of us doing a lot more, but this is perfect, and I don’t have a lot of perfect in my life.
“I think you’re making a mistake. I can’t really hold my liquor.”
He leans close, his voice soft and deep. “Neither can I, but I could use a night where life doesn’t suck, can’t you?”
I nod. “Well, at least I won’t be the only source of gossip anymore.”
Derek chuckles. “Here’s what I propose. Whoever’s story is the most pathetic, the other has to take a shot.”
“Oh, game on.”
He’s had six months of complete shit. I’ve had thirteen years.
“My wife was killed.”
“You went right for the jugular there,” I mumble. “Fine. I’ve spent the last thirteen years above an antique store making minimum wage.”
Derek shakes his head. “Weak. Drink.”
“You said pathetic. It’s not pathetic that your wife died…”
“No, but it’s the saddest. You having a place to live, no matter how small it is, isn’t pathetic, it’s actually admirable.”
Please, he’s reaching here. “It’s pathetic and you didn’t say sad. If we were trying for sad, then I would’ve chosen differently.”
“My game. My rules. Your story sucked in comparison.”
He’s still a cheater when it comes to games. Bastard.
“I’m not doing this because I agree,” I explain because he’ll use this excuse again. “I’m drinking because it’s easier to do than argue with you for the next hour.”
“Whatever you need to tell yourself. My story beat yours, so drink.”
I grab the lemon, pour the sugar on it, hating that I lost the first round. He watches me with his brow raised, definitely not letting me out of it. I pick up the vodka, toss it back, grip the lemon in my teeth, and bite down. I haven’t done lemon drops in so long I forgot how much they can burn.
My body shivers from the alcohol flooding my bloodstream. “You’re going down,” I warn him. “You used your one sad bit on the first one.”
“I’ve got thirteen years of stories, Tea, are you so sure?”
I glare at him. “I guess we’re about to find out. My turn.” I want to go for the kill about Keith, but I feel like I need to play this smart. “I gave birth to Chastity with the nurse as my coach after you broke up our friendship over the phone.”