Case in point: Andrew, and Derek’s unwillingness to ask for his help.
“Pride is a sin, you know,” Shawn murmured, his head on Derek’s shoulder. He might have been annoyed with his husband right now, but he still wanted to cuddle up to him.
To his credit, Derek didn’t pretend not to understand him. “Is it? Being a sinner doesn’t bother me.” His eyes remained on his tablet, his hand stroking Shawn’s arm absentmindedly. It had no right to feel so good.
“You need his help,” Shawn pressed, trying to focus on the conversation instead of the pleasant feeling spreading through his body from Derek’s touch. “Now that Caldwell is back from England, it’s time to finally bury the hatchet. For Miles’s sake. You know the poor guy feels caught between us.”
Derek’s lips curled a little. “Maybe the kid shouldn’t have slept with the enemy, then.”
Shawn chuckled. “You know I don’t like Caldwell, either, but now I think Andrew might be right. Maybe talking honestly and apologizing would actually work.” Noticing Derek’s grimace, Shawn chuckled again and pecked him on the stubbled cheek. “I know, I know: you have an allergy to apologizing and communicating your honest thoughts, but don’t be a child, Derek.”
The unimpressed look Derek shot him made him smile. “Look,” Shawn said. “I know that… I know the subject isn’t an easy one for you, with your father and all, but this is a situation that really can be fixed with a simple conversation. I talked to Miles today. He says he can make Caldwell listen to what you have to say. It will be—”
“Fine,” Derek said testily. “Even if I talk to Caldwell, what do I need Andrew for?”
“Because he’s an impartial party. He was there when you broke the engagement, and with your father and sister gone, he’s the only person alive who knows why it happened, and everyone knows Andrew isn’t exactly your fan so he won’t lie about it. Caldwell will believe him.”
Derek rubbed his forehead with his knuckles, looking like he was actually considering it, thank fuck.
“You’re forgetting something,” he said at last. “Andrew isn’t in any state to be useful. He’s little better than a walking corpse.”
Shawn grimaced. That was a little bit harsh, but unfortunately, not really inaccurate.
He had never exactly liked Andrew after the less-than-stellar first impression he’d gotten all those years ago, but seeing him moving around listlessly with a vacant expression was highly unsettling. The puzzling part was, Andrew seemed to have been getting better—he definitely seemed more put together at the lunch with Derek’s lawyer a few months ago. Now he was much worse. Disinterested. Dejected. Miserable. Unwilling to talk to people. The only reason Shawn saw him at all was because he’d insisted that Andrew move back into their house when they found out he had still been living at a hotel. It had surprised him at the time that Andrew hadn’t put up much of a fight, but by now Shawn knew better: the guy simply wasn’t present enough to care.
“He’s depressed,” Shawn said. “Vivian’s death—”
Derek scoffed. “Don’t be naive. It’s not about Vivian—at least not only.”
Shawn looked at him curiously. “What do you mean?”
“McCall.”
Frowning, Shawn said, “Logan McCall? What about him?”
“Andrew tried to make it seem as though they were friends, but their body language wasn’t that of friends.”
Shawn’s mouth fell open. “What? You mean Andrew and Logan—”
“Probably fucked, yes.” Derek gave a short laugh. “Two healthy men isolated on an island for nearly a year, frustrated and stressed. Are you really surprised?”
Shawn shook his head, his mind reeling. He suddenly remembered the strange noises he’d overheard when he’d called Andrew months ago. They’d almost sounded like… kissing. He’d been confused at the time, but he’d thought that it was the TV in Andrew’s room.
“But Andrew is—”
“Straight?” Derek said dryly. “I recall you being straight, too.”
“Homophobic,” Shawn finished, giving him an unimpressed look.
Derek hummed thoughtfully. “He’s always been so outspoken about it… You know, it’s always made me wonder if he was overcompensating. Either way, he and McCall had the body language of lovers. I’m pretty sure he was holding McCall’s hand under the table.”
Shawn looked at him skeptically. He couldn’t imagine Andrew—the bigoted asshole Andrew—holding a man’s hand. “Are you saying he’s moping because of Logan?”
Derek shrugged. “He seemed fine when McCall was around. The next time we saw him, McCall was nowhere to be seen and he looked like a depressed mess.”
“You’re reaching,” Shawn said, still skeptical.
Derek smiled at him, his dark eyes full of amusement. “Your gaydar is just shit, Wyatt.”
“Rutledge,” Shawn corrected with a grin before kissing him. Soon enough, all thoughts about Andrew completely left his mind.
There was only Derek.
***
Rebecca Kennett was annoyed. Annoyed, displeased, and worried.
There was something wrong with her nephew.
His apathy wasn’t normal. She had thought his depression was caused by his wife’s death and it would pass soon enough, but Andrew wasn’t getting better. No, he’d been getting worse. He seemed to have completely lost his drive, his ambition—and sometimes she had the disturbing thought that he had lost his will to live.