So here he was, pretending to be best friends with Ian Caldwell and his people. Not that they were enemies, per se. Caldwell’s attitude had thawed quite a bit ever since Derek had spoken to Caldwell’s sister and told her the truth. It had been the most awkward conversation of his life, but Derek had to admit it had been long overdue. It’d helped. He and the Caldwells were quite civil these days, but some things weren’t easy to forget, and Derek doubted they were going to become best friends anytime soon.
His lips twisting at the thought, he eyed the crowd in search of Shawn.
Caldwell was still there, his arm around Miles. The sight of them used to make Derek uneasy. He hadn’t been sure Caldwell wasn’t just using the kid to get to him, but by now even he had to admit that Caldwell seemed genuinely gone on Miles—which was clearly mutual. Miles was grinning at Caldwell right now, his hand touching the older man’s chest in a rather proprietary manner. Neither of them seemed to care that they were in public, their eyes only on each other. Derek had to give it to Caldwell: for a formerly straight man, he didn’t seem to mind being out and proud with Miles, uncaring what anyone else thought of him.
Though, Caldwell’s openly homosexual relationship wasn’t as surprising as Andrew’s.
Derek shifted his gaze to his former brother-in-law and eyed him in slight bewilderment. Truth be told, he could barely recognize him as the man who had been his sister’s husband. Vivian’s husband had always acted like he had a giant stick up his ass. He had always looked at Shawn and him with a barely hidden sneer on his lips, his homophobia obvious. He had been a good husband to Vivian, which had been the only reason Derek had tolerated the man.
So now, seeing Andrew all but snuggled up to another man in public was surreal. All right, “snuggled up” might have been something of an exaggeration, but still. Andrew was gazing at Logan McCall in a decidedly besotted manner as McCall said something to him before kissing the corner of Andrew’s mouth. Andrew grabbed McCall’s tie and pulled him closer, changing the kiss from innocent to needy, and never mind that there were plenty of people around. It seemed as though he’d forgotten that they weren’t alone—or didn’t care.
Shaking his head, Derek looked away from the couple and continued looking for Shawn among the guests. His gaze passed over Raffaele Ferrara, who stood by the pool nursing a drink. Ferrara had a beautiful woman on his arm, but he didn’t seem to be paying her any attention, his black eyes fixed on something else, his body language faintly irritated.
There were footsteps behind him, and then arms wrapped around his waist.
Derek didn’t turn.
“It’s rude to hide from your own guests, Mr. Rutledge,” Shawn said with a smile in his voice, pressing his cheek against Derek’s shoulder from behind.
Derek took a sip of his wine. “You know I don’t like parties.”
Shawn chuckled, kissing the back of his neck. “Don’t be such a grumpy old man. You’re hardly old.”
Putting his glass on the table nearby, Derek laid his arm over Shawn’s and said, looking at the guests, “It’s just strange.” To do what my father used to do, after avoiding this life for two decades.
He didn’t say it aloud, but of course Shawn understood. He always did. A little too well.
Humming, Shawn entwined their fingers together. “I definitely didn’t expect to host fancy parties for billionaires when I went to my knees for a grade,” he said, laughter in his voice. “Life can be weird that way.”
Derek turned around and studied him. “Any regrets?”
Blue eyes smiled at him softly. “None,” Shawn said, wrapping his arms around Derek’s neck and fitting their mouths together. “Never.”
***
Andrew was a clingy drunk. He was also a very horny one.
Logan laughed, catching Andrew’s hand as it sneaked down to his dick. “Let’s wait until we get home, Drew.”
Andrew pouted, his blue-green eyes still fixed on Logan’s face and entirely ignoring the party around them. “But I want you. Want your cock in me.”
Christ.
Trying to ignore the way his boxers were suddenly too tight, Logan wrapped an arm around Andrew’s waist and half-dragged him away from the party. “Let’s get home, hm? And then you can tell me how much you want me.”
“But I want you now,” Andrew whined, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses to Logan’s jawline.
“I thought you hated PDA? People are staring. I don’t want you to be embarrassed tomorrow when you sober up.”
“Don’t care,” Andrew mumbled, nuzzling into Logan’s neck. “Love you.”
Logan’s steps faltered. They’d… They’d never really talked about feelings. Andrew was his boyfriend, they lived together, and they were happier than Logan had thought was possible. Their relationship was going great, so he had decided not to rock the boat by confessing that he loved Andrew—Andrew’s reactions could be so unpredictable sometimes. Logan hadn’t expected to hear a confession from Andrew first.