22. Lyla
Chapter twenty-two
Lyla
It had been exactly one month and four days since I spoke to Aaron Brooks over the phone. When I woke up to an empty futon and a missed call from Daddy Dearest, I tried not to seem too disappointed.
About the phone call, that was. Not the empty futon.
I had a text from Deacon that said he had to head out early, and since I took Sunday mornings as an opportunity to wake up around noon, I wasn’t bothered by his quiet exit. I didn’t mind when Deacon spent the night. It was nice having the company, and it seemed like he was comfortable here. He even talked with Michelle about the different kinds of carpet cleaner she bought for the living room, and he returned the next day. I considered that a win for our relationship status.
Once positioned in my usual Sunday spot on the couch in the living room, I called my dad back.
“Good morning, Lyla. Rough night?”
“What makes you say that?” I said sarcastically. Thank God the man didn’t know how to use FaceTime. He wouldn’t appreciate my messy bun and no bra combo.
He ignored my question. “I wanted to see if you and your—has that boy broken up with you yet?”
I rolled my eyes and sipped my tea. “No, Dad. I’m still dating Deacon. ”
“Right. Well, I’d like you guys to come to my corporate Halloween party in Salem. My marketing team went all out this year with a location, and it would be a good opportunity for us to catch up.”
It sounded like an opportunity, alright. It sounded like a chance to photograph Aaron Brooks with his daughter in a well-known Halloween location.
Corporate Halloween party? What a fucking snooze fest. I would never give up a Halloween weekend in BG.
“Dad, we can’t just fly to Massachusetts for an entire weekend. Midterms are coming up, and Deacon has been studying like crazy—”
“What is he studying?”
The curiosity in his voice caught me off guard. “He wants to be a pediatric surgeon.”
“Hmm. Well, Thanksgiving it is, then. I’ll figure out a place for us to have dinner.”
It wasn’t a long conversation, but I’d mark it as successful. We’d talked for five minutes, and he hadn’t even insulted me.
I tossed my phone on the couch just as Charlie entered the kitchen. She scanned the living room. “Where’s Deacon?”
“He had to run out this morning for something.” I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. I didn’t feel an ounce hungover, and it took one phone call to prompt a rocking headache. I padded across the room and searched the cabinet for ibuprofen. I popped three pills into my mouth and took another sip of tea.
“Is he coming back later? We need to finish that game. If he thinks he’s winning because he purchased the entire pink and orange row, he’s mistaken.”
“I’m sure Deacon will honor his Monopoly commitment,” I assured her .
Somehow, the board game responsible for causing family feuds ended up being a weekly activity between Deacon and my roommates. After I lost the first two rounds to Deacon’s business strategy, I politely bowed out of the chaos. It wounded my ego to know I was months away from my business venture, and I kept getting my ass kicked by a metallic top hat.
Charlie, however, was one of the most competitive people I knew when it came to games, and she wasn’t about to let Deacon win for the third time in a row.
“He said in his text this morning that he would be back”—I leaned forward, checking the time on the stove—“soon, actually.”
Charlie grabbed her keys off the hook by the door and hoisted her gym bag over her shoulder. “I’ll be back in an hour or so, and Michelle will be back at two. Don’t let him leave until we finish our game.”
“Michelle is in on this game, too?”
“We needed a third player since you decided to be a buzzkill.” She shrugged her shoulders. “He let her talk to him about cleaning supplies , Lyla. I’m pretty sure Michelle would bungee jump off of the balcony if Deacon asked her to.”
I shook my head and smiled. “Nah. He’s too nice. He’d never let her jump.”
Charlie laughed on her way out the door, and before it closed, I heard a short exchange in the stairway and a voice that warmed my chest. Or was it the tea? I decided to go with the tea.
Downright Delightful Deacon smiled when he saw me, but his face fell when he looked past me and into the living room. I followed his gaze to the flowers in the middle of the end table. Well, the remains of the flowers on the end table. On the bright side, the vase was still in fantastic condition. The purple glass looked beautiful when the sun hit in the morning.
Every Monday, Deacon showed up to campus with roses, and every Monday, Cassie passed us on her way to the Life Sciences building. It was a tiny gesture, but it was working. Deacon mentioned that Cassie ran into him in The Union one morning and commented on how happy he looked.
“To be fair, you asked if you could buy me flowers,” I argued. “Nothing was said about me taking care of them.”
Deacon shut the door behind him and rolled his eyes. “It’s water, Lyla. You have to change the water in the middle of the week, and that’s it!”
“Okay, okay.” I held out my hand for the bag he was holding. “What did you bring?”
“Some dip my mom made.” He leaned his elbows on the counter and watched me rifle through the goodies.
I held up a glass container and read the tape. I shouldn’t have been surprised by the label. When I helped Deacon move his things, all of his totes had some sort of description on them.
“Your mom sent you brisket dip?” I pulled out a box of crackers and smiled when I saw the yellow and pink packaging. “And Starburst?”
“The candy is for you, and my mom made the dip like thirty minutes ago.”
I popped a cherry Starburst in my mouth and chewed. If his mom made the dip this morning, and his parents were from Michigan, that meant—
“My parents came for breakfast this morning,” he said, reading my expression. His mouth curved into an adorable half-smile I was beginning to enjoy, and he helped himself to some candy. “They know about you, though. I told them I’ve been dating this bombshell named Lyla for a month.”
“Holy shit, has it been a month?” I added another Starburst wrapper to the hill forming in front of me on the counter. “I have an Aaron Brooks update for you.”
Deacon raised his eyebrows, eager to hear what I had to say next. I rarely mentioned the man responsible for putting me in this position in the first place. It was like announcing the Super Bowl halftime show. What did good ol’ Aaron Brooks have to say today?
I prepared myself so I wouldn’t laugh through the announcement. “We were invited to his corporate Halloween party in Salem.”
Deacon scrunched up his face. “Salem?”
“Don’t worry. I politely declined the invitation.”
“What a shame,” he said sarcastically. “Have you thought about Halloween yet? Are we . . .”
“Deacon Scott, if you are threatening to strip me of my one chance to do a couples costume—”
“No!” he exclaimed. “I just didn’t know if you already had some ideas. Cassie always picked our costumes, so I never had to plan them.”
I rested my hand on his and gave him a tap of reassurance. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll come up with something fun.”
He squeezed my hand and reached behind him to grab water from the fridge. “I have an update for you, too, actually.” He sounded nervous, which meant I’d have to provide follow-up questions.
“Update about . . . what, exactly?”
Deacon blew out an exaggerated breath and smiled down at the counter. “My brother Drew is coming up next weekend for homecoming. He’s gonna wanna meet you, and I wanted to make sure you’re cool to hang out with me all weekend?”
His voice went up an octave on the last part of the question. I wasn’t sure why he was making this question so difficult to ask.
“That’s fine, Deac. We’re together most of the weekend anyway. Between going out and pregaming, we really only spend Saturday morning apart.”
“I know, but we’re both used to having some off-screen time.”
I gestured to the empty room around us. “Is this off-screen time?” He sighed, and when he didn’t respond right away, I knew there was more. “Is there something else?”
He ran his hand over his jawline, bringing attention to the scruff he forgot to shave last weekend. I didn’t mind it. Deacon without scruff was hot, but Deacon with scruff was a bonus.
“Drew will think it’s weird if I’m walking you home after a night out instead of you just staying over,” he said with a nervous grin. “Do you think we could stay at my place next weekend? You don’t have to answer right now, and it’s okay if you don’t want to.”
I understood his cautious approach. If I took too long to answer, Deacon would back out of a request that shouldn’t be hard to ask for. He stayed here all the time. I was surprised that Nathan or Andre hadn’t asked about me staying over before. Unless they had, and Deacon wasn’t saying anything to me about it.
I expected to feel a familiar tightening in my chest or the tingling that ran up and down my arms. I waited a few more seconds, but nothing came. I shrugged to convince him that his question was no big deal. “Yeah, that’s fine. ”
He leaned across the counter and held my gaze. “Are you sure? We don’t lie.”
“I know we don’t, and I’m not. It’s fine, I promise. Now bring all this stuff to the coffee table because once Charlie gets home, she’s coming for you in Monopoly.”
Deacon rubbed his hands together before grabbing the dip and crackers. He kissed the top of my head as he passed me, and I turned around just in time to see Keira coming down the hallway.
I had to give it to Deacon. He was on top of shit when it came to being on-screen.