Hearsay (27 page)

"Hmm…"

"What?"

"Are you sure you can deal with all this?" Roman asked gently. "Don't you think you need to take some time to process it?"

"I got this," Derrick said in his firmest voice. "
I got this,
" he repeated, mostly to reassure himself. "Do you doubt my level of commitment to our relationship? I want to make this work."

I really, really do…
 

"I know you do, but this is a lot I'm asking from you and—"

"You didn't ask," Derrick said.

"…it all feels too good to be true," Roman finished, his green eyes darkening in apprehension. "To be honest with you, I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop."

Derrick felt exactly the same way, but he didn't know if the feeling was connected to dealing with Roman's condition or Tyler's case. "You need to trust me, okay?" he finally said, choosing to keep his misgivings to himself.
 

"Okay…" Roman nodded slowly, as if he wasn't convinced he should trust Derrick's words but willing to do so anyway. "I think you're right about seeing the therapist," he said a few seconds later. "This won't work if we don't adapt to the fact that my status will affect every aspect of our lives. We need to learn to deal with the challenges of being in a serodiscordant relationship."

Derrick almost broke out in hives at the sound of that word. "Can we say we're in a magnetic relationship instead of serodiscordant?" he asked. "They both mean one of us is positive and the other negative, but 'serodiscordant' sounds far too ominous for my taste."

"I only care about the
relationship
part of the sentence," Roman said softly. "You can call the rest whatever you want."

"Then let's just call it a relationship, okay?"

"That's fine," Roman agreed, watching Derrick with narrowed eyes.

"Thank you for that." Derrick rubbed circles on the back of Roman's hand with his thumb. "I just realized a few minutes ago you haven't really dealt with being HIV-positive yourself. That's something we need to take care of right away." He smiled at Roman, feeling much better now that he'd apologized for being a jerk and had a plan for what to do. "I love you, Roman, and there isn't a speck of doubt in my mind that I want to stay with you. I'll be the one taking care of all your needs, in sickness and health, and everything in between, for as long as I can." He rolled on his back and gave a firm tug at Roman's arm. He sighed contentedly when his future husband landed on top of him. "We're going to get through this."

Roman opened his mouth, closed it again, and then slid his arms between Derrick's back and the bed. "For a minute there, you scared the shit out of me," he admitted, kissing Derrick's forehead, jaw, and neck. "Don't do that again."

"I promise I won't." Derrick spread his legs invitingly. A second later Roman was perfectly nestled between them. "Will you tell me?"

"What do you want to know?"
 

"How you're doing… how you're coping…" He wrapped his legs around Roman and brushed back his short hair. "I did some reading while I had my coffee and fed Lumière. Looks like accepting your HIV-positive status and the person you are now is a key step to getting on with your life. Have you done that?" He rubbed Roman's earlobe between his thumb and index finger. He'd noticed the previous night that was something Roman really liked. "You were incredibly distressed when you told me. Are you ashamed of being positive?"

"Yes, I am," Roman croaked, resting his face on Derrick's chest. "There's a stigma attached to HIV. My entire perception of who I am changed the moment I was diagnosed. I'm still a successful lawyer, business owner, son, brother, uncle, and friend, but, in my mind, I am now an HIV-positive man first and foremost. Nothing is simple anymore. Getting sick, being with the man I love…" He took a shuddering breath and glanced up at Derrick. "I live in constant fear of anyone finding out, and not a day goes by that I don't berate myself for having had unprotected sex with James."

"Can we not talk about that douche bag again?" Derrick narrowed his eyes. "Make no mistake, if I ever come across that son-of-a-bitch, I will kick his ass, but he's the past, and there's no changing what he did to you. We have to get past the anger and resentment and focus on us and my plan." He lowered his head and pecked Roman on the lips. "Agreed?"

"Agreed," Roman said softly. "I think I'm finally ready to deal with things."

"Good." Derrick took Roman's hand and intertwined their fingers. "Do you know about the five stages of loss and grief?" he asked, shifting a little to accommodate Roman's weight. "I read about that, too."

"My sister mentioned it one of the times she was trying to talk me into seeing a therapist she knows." It was Roman's turn to shift, and he did it repeatedly against Derrick's groin.

"Denial, anger, fear, grief, and acceptance," Derrick recited absently. It was difficult to think when he was pinned under Roman, feeling his boyfriend's cock get hard and his heart beat faster. "We have to experience them all before we can get emotionally healthy. I think we should go."

"Go where?" Roman asked hoarsely, twirling his tongue around Derrick's nipple.

"To see the therapist your sister recommended," Derrick almost panted, lifting his hips from the bed and rubbing his own hard-on against Roman's cock. "Can you call and try to get an appointment for us this week? I mean, you don't mind going as a couple, do you?"

"I insist you come with me," Roman grunted, sliding his tongue from one of Derrick's nipples to the other. "I hate that I have to say this, but we're going to have to hold off on penetrative sex until I get the results from my next viral load test. And just to be safe, I'd rather you didn't put your mouth anywhere near my cock just yet."

Derrick hated the limitations.
Hated
them. But he knew Roman was right. Safety was the priority. They had to wait.
 

"That's fine."

It is fine… It really is…

"Thank you."

"So, can you call the therapist?" Derrick gripped short, soft hair with his hands and pressed his chest against Roman's face. "I know you said this coming week will be a busy one for you, but I'd really appreciate it if you can make the time," he mocked, pulling at Roman's earlobe with his teeth. "I expect our relationship to be a priority."

"Shut up," Roman half-moaned, half-chuckled. "I thought you were dumping me." He snuck his hand between their bodies and fisted Derrick's cock. "I needed to give myself time to process the loss before I could face you again."

Derrick whimpered. "I love how candid you can be," he whispered, moving against Roman's hand. "Do you really need to go to that brunch?"

"No…" He pulled Derrick's sleep pants down. "Do you have plans for today? Want to have dinner with me?"

"I'd love to, but I can't. I need to meet up with my brother and sister at the assisted living facility around four o'clock. We're having dinner with Papa today." He gave Roman a quick, hard kiss. "How about meeting for lunch tomorrow?"

"I have to argue my motion in limine on a homicide case. When the judge grants it, an extremely incriminatory but unlawfully seized recording of a phone conversation will become inadmissible evidence at trial, and my client will be looking at ten years in prison instead of twenty-five. I should be back in the office by one-thirty or so," Roman informed, stringing kisses across Derrick's collarbone.

"I have a child support hearing in the morning and a meeting with Mrs. Chianti, the most uncooperative client ever, at noon. I can meet you at our spot in Central Park around two." Derrick slid his hands under Roman's sleep pants and squeezed his ass.

"That works," Roman said with a nod. "I'll bring the food."

"Excellent," Derrick almost purred. "Can you wait a bit longer to take your meds?"

Roman gave him a knowing smile. "I'll be okay until I get home," he said, licking Derrick's neck and cupping his balls. "I can spare a few minutes to take care of you."

"Thank the lord." Derrick spread his legs and pushed Roman down by his shoulders. "Get on it, sweetie. Suck me off."

Chapter Seventeen

It was a good thing Derrick rarely lost his composure; otherwise he would've worn a groove in the asphalt from pacing around The Pond in Central Park as he waited for Roman's arrival.

He wasn't the type to bite his nails, pull at his hair, or rub his hands up and down his legs when he was agitated. Derrick had his meltdowns in private, with only a few people getting exclusive glimpses into his times of inner turmoil. Being a gay, nerdy kid in a rough area of New York City had taught him to appear tough no matter what. He wasn't a kid afraid of bullies anymore, and his neighborhood was now considered up-and-coming, but Derrick never stopped behaving as if he'd get beaten up for thinking—and feeling—too much.

That wasn't to say his mind didn't spin in frantic circles whenever there was a ripple in the quiet stream of his carefully planned life. He had the ability, not to mention the tendency, to concoct the gloomiest scenarios in less than a minute, but he knew how to keep himself together when he was worried or stressed out.

Having a pint of ice cream calmed him down. Booking a full-body massage at his favorite spa on Fifth Avenue did an even better job than Rocky Road. Owning a timeshare on The Nile River also helped, not to mention, he could fake it 'til he felt it with the best of them. The latter was the main reason he was able to sit in the park and enjoy the unseasonably warm weather as though he didn't have a care in the world.

Which, he did. He had plenty to worry about. But it was easier to pretend he did not.
 

So what if during their meeting that day Mrs. Chianti had accused him of legal malpractice for not protecting her interests? Derrick had warned her behaving like a lunatic would have dire consequences, even if her soon-to-be-ex-husband was an adulterous, lying piece of shit who deserved to be castrated. He knew it wasn't his fault Judge Vaughn had ordered a psychological evaluation of Mrs. Chianti and given temporary custody of her kids to her husband. Derrick had complied with the code of ethics for lawyers established by New York State, and acted with integrity and fidelity on behalf of his client every step of the way. His client, on the other hand, had decided it was a good idea to log in to Mr. Chianti's email account and send a message
as Mr. Chianti
to his entire personal and business contacts database. Said message included confessions of all Mr. Chianti's sins, including business wrongdoings and an apology to his unsatisfied wife of twenty years for the size of his very small dick. Having her sanity questioned was on Mrs. Chianti, not on him, so Derrick wasn't going to worry about maybe losing a client or being sanctioned by ABC.

Another thing he wasn't going to worry about was Tyler's phone call at the crack of dawn, wherein he'd told Derrick two of the Coleman Safe House's sponsors had dropped overnight. Derrick had prayed every day for that ridiculous accusation of child molestation to go away, but more and more it looked like that just wasn't going to happen. The only thing they could do at this point was wait for the DA's office to make their move, and trust Roman to take care of the rest.

And last, but not least, Derrick wasn't going to worry about the possibility of Roman not showing up for their lunch date, even though he was forty minutes late.

They had talked on the phone for two hours the previous night and exchanged a few text messages earlier that day. They'd defined their status as a couple and told each other "I love you" about a hundred times. There was no reason to think Roman had bailed on him. No reason to believe he wasn't meeting Derrick at The Pond. Not like when he'd failed to show up a year ago.

Derrick closed his eyes and searched his mind for information on Criminal Court procedures in Kings County, which was where Roman had gone that morning. Derrick had only been there a few times himself, but he remembered Noah saying the place was a circus on a good day. Backlogged cases were the norm, and inmates were hardly ever transported on time by the Department of Corrections for their court appearances. Roman could very well still be waiting for his client to be produced and his turn to present his oral argument to the judge.

That had to be it. Roman was busy and running late. Nothing else.

But why the hell hasn't he called me to let me know he can't make it?

Derrick slid his butt forward in his seat and rested his head on the back of the bench, letting the rays from the early afternoon sun warm his face.

It was beautiful here, a serene reprieve in the heart of the concrete jungle known as Manhattan. The birds, water, flowers, and the red, orange, and yellow leaves of the trees gave the area a sense of solitude that made Derrick feel closer than ever to Mother Nature. He could hear himself think. In here, he could lose himself in his dreams.

That being said, he was starting to develop an aversion to the damn place.

Twice he'd sat on this same bench waiting for Roman to meet him for lunch without having a clue if he actually would. That wasn't good for Derrick's blood pressure or mental peace. "I've had it with this little corner of heaven," he muttered under his breath, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket and opening his email program. "If he doesn't show up today, I'll choose a different rendezvous location and never come here again."

Just in case hanging out in Central Park was a bad omen for them.

Derrick lowered his head and scrolled through his work messages, not surprised to see he had two from Mrs. Chianti bitching him out some more. He ignored those, but replied to messages from other counsel that included settlement offers or demands for child support and alimony in three different divorce cases. He then answered simple questions a few other clients had and a message from his assistant Casey about a pre-nuptial agreement Derrick was working on, before closing the email program and checking his texts. Nothing from Roman, but Noah wanted to know if he was still in court, and Tashana wanted to know if she could call him. Once he'd replied to his friends, Derrick opened the internet browser on his phone and continued reading the page he'd started on his way to court that day.