24. Lyla
Chapter twenty-four
Lyla
Without the usual help from Charlie, I scanned the options around me for Mr. October. I usually had two or three individuals I could test drive before completely tossing them out of the running, but tonight, I was struggling. Maybe it was because I was officially on a solo mission. Charlie couldn’t know I was looking for Mr. October while I was dating Deacon. It would ruin all of the work we put into our plan.
We ran into Cassie twice during our night out. The first encounter was quick. She was walking out of Brathaus as we were walking in. She offered Deacon a shy smile, and I played the role of the girlfriend who had no idea she was walking by her boyfriend’s ex.
The second encounter at The Attic went a little differently. Cassie approached Deacon while he was on the deck with Drew, and I played the role of the girlfriend who was happy to see her boyfriend talking to someone he knew. There were some playful touches between them, but when Drew walked away with a dramatic eye roll that neither Deacon nor Cassie paid attention to, I looked away and laughed. Clearly, Drew wasn’t the biggest fan of the girl who broke his brother’s heart in front of a coffee shop.
Deacon showed Drew as many bars as we could fit into the evening, and by the time we were ready to walk back to Deacon’s apartment, I was riding a good buzz. I had my fair share of drinks and never denied Drew his request for a shot, but for the most part, I stuck to one beer per bar. It was a different way to end the night, but I didn’t mind. We would be day drinking tomorrow and going out again tomorrow night. I considered it an exercise to train for a marathon and not a sprint.
By the time we reached the corner of Main, Andre had persuaded Charlie to go back to our place for the night. Deacon grabbed my hand and led Drew and me to Taco Bell where we got a giant bag of soft tacos and a few orders of Cheesy Fiesta Potatoes. It was a quick walk home, and it would’ve been faster if Deacon hadn’t looked back every two minutes to make sure Drew was still behind us.
“He wanders,” Deacon explained while he held open his front door.
I stepped into the living room and scanned the mess left behind by the pregaming festivities.
“Lyla, stop hogging all the tacos, girl,” Drew teased, plucking the bag from my hands.
Drew resembled Deacon in many ways—smooth brown skin, light brown eyes, and a short, well-kept fade, but their personalities couldn’t have been more different. Drew was loud, energetic, and carried a carefree younger brother energy. Deacon took his time warming up to people and stuck to a linear process when doing things.
When I first met Deacon, I thought it was strange that someone so pretty could be so cautious around women. Deacon was a rare jewel on campus. Most guys threw themselves on top of the pile, waiting to be picked up and handled without caring about the consequences. With Deacon, you had to dig a little bit .
A hand slid over my exposed hip, and the familiar scent of cedarwood and lavender accompanied the arm wrapped around my shoulders. I fell into his warm chest and rested my hand on his forearm.
“Did you eat?” Deacon murmured in my ear.
I giggled when his breath trailed along my neck. “Yes. I ate while you and Drew talked about the Michigan and Ohio State game.”
“It’s a big deal, sweetheart.” He released my shoulders, and my back felt bare. “You good out here, man? Nathan might wander back, but I think he went home with that girl from The Attic.”
Drew swallowed a mouthful of potatoes and nodded. “I might actually meet up with someone.”
“Who?” I asked, incredibly interested in how he found a prospect his first night on campus.
“This girl named Gia. She just texted me and asked if I wanted to hang out.”
Deacon patted his brother’s shoulder proudly. “Take my key by the door and text me if you stay there.”
They smacked hands the way guys do, and Drew crossed the room to me. He placed his hands on my shoulders and lowered himself to my eye level. A giant smile spread across his face as he said, “It was a pleasure, Lyla. Can’t wait for the pool party tomorrow.”
I laughed at his excited expression before Drew grabbed Deacon’s keys and walked out the front door.
“I was going to sleep out here so you can have my bed,” Deacon said from the hall. “I put an extra blanket out in case—”
“What are you doing?” I shook my head. “Did we have a fight or something I don’t know about? ”
His eyes narrowed.
“Why else would you sleep out here? What if Nathan or Drew comes back?”
Deacon looked into his room and then looked back at me. “Are you sure?”
I nodded, feeling more at ease than I expected to. I wasn’t sure exactly what to expect, but I knew everything would be fine if I was with Deacon. “Very sure.”
Deacon’s room was spotless, but I wasn’t surprised. We usually hung around the living room whenever I came over during the week, but his room looked the same as when I helped him move. It was simple but very Deacon.
I pulled some clothes out of my duffle, planning to change in the bathroom. Deacon stood in the doorway.
“I’m gonna shower real quick, so you’re good to change in here.” His mouth curved into a boyish grin. “Unless you need to brush your teeth while I’m in there or something.”
“Ha ha.” I gestured to the bed. “What side do you sleep on?”
“Usually the left. Where you stayed last time was fine.” He dipped back into the hall and closed the bathroom door.
Once I heard the water from the shower, I changed into my comfy clothes. I was dying to get out of my standing-only pants. They served their purpose, but the tacos I inhaled earlier put me over the edge.
I established a space on the right side of the bed and stared at the empty spot next to me. Usually, the left side? What the fuck did that mean? I didn’t know anyone who switched sides of the bed. Maybe Deacon did have lingering traces of a serial killer after all.
Sometime between scrolling on Pinterest and deciding what to put on the TV, Deacon came in from the shower wearing a white T-shirt and red basketball shorts. He ran his towel over his head before tossing it in the hamper.
I looked him up and down as he searched for something on his desk. “What do you usually wear to bed?”
He looked at me and smiled. “Honestly? Just boxers.”
“Sorry for all the extra layers,” I teased, getting under his fluffy blue comforter. I plugged my phone into the charger and adjusted my pillow.
Had Deacon cleaned the sheets because he knew I was staying over? I pulled a dryer sheet from the inside of my pillowcase and hid my smile as I tucked it back in. I expected nothing less.
Deacon slid into the bed next to me, sending a wave of whatever delicious body wash he used directly in my direction. I’m sure he’d still smell that way when he woke up. Why did men’s body wash last five years when I couldn’t even get a good lotion to last an hour? Society must really want us to know that the men are bathing.
Deacon rested his hands behind his head. “Did you find something to put on?”
I focused on the Netflix options and ignored how the thin material of his shirt hugged his chest. Were there no baggy pieces of clothing in this man’s closet? When I turned to ask him what he usually watched, I was equally distracted by how good his arms looked flexed against his pillow.
For all that was holy .
“Do you like It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia ?” he asked.
I could tell he wanted me to say yes. “I’ve never seen it,” I admitted.
He gasped and took the remote from my hand. I giggled at his obvious excitement and turned so I was facing him. He clicked on another streaming service and started the first episode.
As the show began to play, I waited for the familiar pull at my chest. I waited for the tingling to shoot down my arms or the nausea to make a home in the lowest pit of my stomach. There were no stars or fogginess. There was no ringing in my ears.
There was nothing. I didn’t know what to do with the silence. All I heard was the TV in the background, and I didn’t feel pressured to fill the space. It didn’t feel uncomfortable. Something about it felt warm, and while that would usually send me packing, I didn’t mind it.
Deacon laughed at a line in the episode, and I relaxed into my pillow. The hearty sound repeated after an offensive comment about one of the characters, and soon, I was laughing too.
Deacon reached over and gently squeezed my forearm. It was a small gesture, but I knew the reason I felt at peace had everything to do with the downright delightful man beside me.