14. Lyla
Chapter fourteen
Lyla
My only logical explanation for heading to campus this early was that I was still drunk when Deacon showed up on my doorstep.
The universe didn’t hand you a solution when you shouted your problems into the void. A gorgeous man didn’t appear on your doorstep because you required assistance. That shit only happened in romantic comedies and serial killer documentaries, and I would take Michael Myers any day.
The shuttle from Falcon’s Pointe dropped me off near the education building. Deacon was already in front of The Union dressed in a plain white T-shirt, cargo shorts, and black Vans. He looked way too happy to be on campus at ten in the morning.
As I got closer, I gave him a halfhearted smile, and he responded with an adorable grin. Between the sunshine and the brightness of his shirt, his light brown eyes popped against his brown skin.
“Good morning, Lyla.” Deacon handed me an iced beverage.
I scanned the Dunkin Donuts label. “Green tea?”
“ Iced green tea. I figured you didn’t want a hot tea since it's almost eighty degrees out. And I didn’t want to assume you took matcha before noon.”
I nodded slowly before taking a sip. It was perfect .
“So you’re sweet, and you pay attention,” I teased.
Deacon chuckled and motioned for me to walk with him. He seemed unbothered by the silence that hung between us, but I needed something to feed off of. I could only walk around campus for so long before I started to feel awkward.
“So—”
“Why don’t we start with our last names?” Deacon offered.
“Brooks.” My shoulders relaxed as the word left my mouth. “Yours?”
“Scott.”
“So, Deacon Scott and Lyla Brooks. We sound—”
“You think this is crazy, don’t you,” Deacon said, laughing. “It’s okay if you do. I went back and forth like ten times before I came over yesterday. I knew I was taking a chance when I asked you.”
I stopped walking, and Deacon followed my lead when I turned to face him. I drummed my fingers along the side of my cup. “Can I ask the obvious question?”
He nodded, a look of concern washing over his gorgeous face.
“I’ve only spent a few hours with you, and you seem . . .”
Deacon rocked on his heels while I struggled to find the word. “Charming?”
“Sure, we can use charming.”
“What were you gonna say?”
“I was going to say that you seem downright delightful,” I admitted, getting a chuckle out of him. “You show up, drink in hand, and look genuinely happy to see me. You made sure Charlie and I got something for helping you move because you said we would. You give off zero creepy vibes. You’re actually kind of funny. So I have to ask . . . why did this girl break up with you? ”
Deacon sighed, running a hand through his hair. He started walking again, and I followed, giving him a few minutes to compose his answer.
He winced. “Full transparency?”
“We don’t lie, Deacon Scott. There’s no reason to.”
“Full transparency—I plan to marry this girl. We met freshman year, and when I planned to ask her to move in with me, she broke up with me. I think she’s afraid that she’s missing something. We were heading into our senior year together, and I think part of her felt like she was settling by staying with me. She wants to explore her options.”
Even though his calm expression didn’t shift, I could see the pain behind his lighthearted gaze. That girl broke this man’s heart.
“How did she do it?” I prompted gently.
Deacon exhaled through his nose and stared at the ground as we walked. “She called me instead of showing up for our coffee date.”
“Your girlfriend of three years broke up with you over the phone ?” I exclaimed, keeping my voice down so I didn’t end up alerting the whole campus. I stared at the cup in my hand and sucked my teeth. “She didn’t break up with you at Dunkin, did she?”
To my surprise, Deacon laughed at my comment. “No, not Dunkin. Grounds for Thought. It’s where we met, and I thought it would be cute to ask her to move in with me there—you know, since it was the location of the meet-cute.”
“Oh my god. When Charlie—wait, the what cute?”
“The meet-cute?” He stared at me like I had three heads. “The location where the couple meets in the movies?”
Aaand cue Michael Fucking Myers.
I rolled my eyes and laughed. “Oh boy. ”
“What about you?” he asked playfully. “You clearly have no interest in actually finding a boyfriend.”
“So we’re just moving on from the tragic story of your break up? Are there any other important details I need to know?”
“Cassie ended things with me over the phone, broke my heart, and I’m ready to get her back,” Deacon rambled, shrugging off his crisis. “Your turn.”
I sipped my drink to buy me more time. There was no reason to dive into why I didn’t want to be in a relationship. That wasn’t important to Deacon’s role in this plan.
“My parents decided to break up when my dad decided he no longer wanted to be a parent,” I explained casually. “Aaron Brooks went off to be this amazing and successful financial advisor, and even though he wasn’t around, he insisted on financially supporting my mom and me. He wanted control even though he didn’t live with us. Money is power, and my mom struggled by herself.”
“I’m sorry,” Deacon offered.
“Oh, no, don’t be sorry.” I forced a laugh, determined to keep the carefree mood between us. “I had a great life growing up with my mom. I couldn’t imagine seeing my dad more than four times a year.”
Deacon widened his eyes mid-sip. “You’re telling me you only see your dad four times a year?”
“I need Aaron Brooks for one thing and one thing only. He set aside a trust fund for me when I was born. Right now, I can access it at twenty-five, but when I saw him two months ago, we agreed the funds would be mine once I graduated. Unfortunately, when my ass made the internet, he threatened to take it away if I didn’t get my shit together. ”
“Hence the responsible boyfriend.” Deacon grinned like we were introducing his character on a TV show. “Your dad left but still managed to make you a trust fund baby? That’s kind of wild.”
“Wild, but true. Once I get that money, I’ll be free of him. I can finally start the next chapter of my life; a chapter that doesn’t involve Aaron Brooks or anyone else I don’t want to bring along.”
“So when you get this money after graduation, what are your big plans?”
I smiled at his question. I never got to talk about that part of the plan. People heard I went to school for business and just assumed I wanted black corporate suits and a matching briefcase.
“I want to open a bookstore,” I said nervously. I cleared my throat and stood a little taller. “I want to live in Chicago and run a bookstore that encourages indie authors to sell their books there. My entire life, my mom has been a bartender and a writer. She wants to travel the world and publish fantasy novels about women getting swept away into imaginary worlds to find themselves.”
On one of our trips to Florida, my mom shared how she’d love to write in an office in the back of a bookstore. For every book she published, she would take a trip and find inspiration for her next story. I couldn’t give time back to her, but I could help her move forward into something she loved. It was the least I could do since she got stuck as the default parent.
“Brooks Books,” Deacon said.
I retreated from my journey down memory lane. “What?”
“Your bookstore,” Deacon explained, throwing his empty cup in the trash. He stopped walking, and I realized we were in front of East Hall .
Deacon turned so he could face me and extended his hand, skimming his thumb over my cheek and down my jawline. My breath caught in my throat.
“Brooks Books could be the name of your bookstore. Genius, I know, and I promise I won’t even take credit for it.” He studied me with a sly smile, waiting to see how I’d react to a simple touch. A slight smirk crept into the side of his mouth. “I’ll see you after class, Lyla Brooks. Go learn some Shakespeare.”
The doors of East Hall closed behind me, and I pushed the heavy puff of air from my chest. Fuckin’ Brooks Books. The only reason this insanity might end up saving me was because Aaron Brooks knew little to nothing about me. He had no idea I would never date a guy as downright delightful as Deacon Scott.