27. Deacon
Chapter twenty-seven
Deacon
No matter what time of year it was, as long as the sky was clear, I could find the Big Dipper. I wasn’t sure if science could back up my optimism, but I could see it whenever I peered at the sky.
A warm breeze rippled through the trees on Court Street. We were running out of nights like this—nights where we didn’t dread the walk to the bars. Seasons changed quickly in Ohio, and if you blinked, you might miss the transition. I was ready for the warmer parts of fall to drift to winter. I’d miss the view of the sky, but I’d trade that for a time of the year that wasn’t tampered with painful memories.
While Lyla’s thumbs danced wildly over my phone screen, I watched Drew put the moves on a girl he met at the Bring Your Own Pool party. It made me happy to see Drew enjoying himself this weekend. I missed my brother, and if this flirty interaction in front of me went anywhere, I would talk about this meet-cute at their wedding.
“She’s at Bar 149.” Lyla handed me my phone. “Cassie posted to Instagram ten minutes ago.”
“Are you going to fill me in on this master plan of yours?” I’d been waiting patiently for four blocks, and the anticipation was killing me. I needed some sort of notice for plans—especially when those plans included my ex-girlfriend and my fake girlfriend engaging in any kind of conversation .
“I read your texts with her after you said I could, and she’s doing exactly what I thought she’d be doing. She’s reached out to you a few times since she found out about us, right? She’s probing you for information without you even realizing it.”
When Cassie asked how I had been doing, she was probing ? This was why the government needed to hire women to find information. They were born with skills in their DNA that men just couldn’t fathom.
“You’re going to approach Cassie and start talking about, I don’t know, anything that makes you both reminisce on the good old days. But you want to make it seem like you’re happy.”
I stared blankly at her serious expression. “I am happy.”
“I mean, like over-the-moon obnoxious happy,” Lyla stressed and slid her fingers through mine. “And then, as you are talking, I’ll come up and slip in a comment. It’s simple reinforcement. You show how happy you are, and I reinforce the happiness. If any part of her still wants to be with you or has even considered being with you, it’ll light up. It’s the perfect match.”
If I knew I would’ve had to reminisce on the good old days with Cassie, I would’ve rifled through my Freshman to Junior Year with C tote for inspiration. We were approaching Main Street, and I was running out of time to decide what memory to bring up in my upcoming conversation.
It was typical that Homecoming Weekend drew large crowds from nearby colleges. On a regular weekend, we’d walk right into Bar 149. Instead, we were tacking onto the end of a long line.
Lyla pulled out her phone, and her thumbs went to work. She smiled at the screen, and I pretended not to notice. It was the first of October, which meant there would be another “Mr.” I would soon hear about. I wasn’t sure if she saw Jake again after that night at The Attic, but since one of her rules was that we had to hook up with other people in private, I had no way of knowing that information.
Lyla tapped my forearm and nodded toward the window of the bar. “Isn’t that Cassie by the tables?”
I recognized her blonde hair and Cassie’s roommate, Clara. “Yeah.”
The bouncer verified our IDs and let us into the bar. Once inside, Drew broke away with his new friend. Lyla and I ordered beers at the bar and then found a table near the entrance—one that faced Cassie’s table but didn’t make it obvious that we were there.
Red and blue lights danced across Lyla’s face as she studied the scene. I was getting better at guessing what was in her head, but keeping up with how quickly she sifted through her open tabs was hard. Her ability to be upset in one moment and downplay it the next was incredible. I just watched her ponder something that was stressing her out ten seconds ago, and now she was staring at me with bright green eyes—happy and excited to be back on the mission.
I took a sip of my beer and smiled. “So tell me. How do I talk to Cassie about how happy I am?”
“Bring up something that shows you’re doing great without her. Then, bring up something that would make her miss you.” Lyla pointed dramatically to the dance floor. “Go over there and talk to her about something personal you guys did. Talk about sex!”
I cocked my head. “You want me to go over to my ex-girlfriend and just talk to her about sex? ”
“You spent three years doing it with her. How awkward could it be?”
I stole a glance in Cassie’s direction. Clara had just left the table to go to the bar, and she was alone.
My lips parted, and I was drawing a blank. Suddenly, I couldn’t recall anything that Cassie and I did while we were together. “I just—”
Lyla placed her hand on mine. “Do you trust me?” She raised her eyebrows, expecting to have to wait for me to answer, but I didn’t hesitate.
“I do trust you.” I ran a hand over my mouth. “Probably more than I should, actually.”
“Damn!” Lyla exclaimed. “Luckily, no one was around to hear that line.”
I chuckled into the neck of my Corona, and soon, she was joining me. Laughing with my fake girlfriend and looking like a real couple was easy, but thinking of something to say to my ex made me anxious.
What the fuck, Deacon?
“You know what? I’ll take care of it.” Lyla drained the rest of her beer and placed her empty bottle on the table. “Go over there while she’s alone. Have that drink finished in five minutes, and I’ll pop into your conversation. It’s better to have your honest reaction anyway.”
“Honest reaction to what ?” I turned, but Lyla was gone.
Fuck it. If I couldn’t talk with a girl I planned on having as my wife , my case for being with her wasn’t that strong.
Cassie smiled when I approached her table. “Hey, you.”
“Hey, Cass.” I took the spot next to her and bumped her shoulder. “How are you?”
She nodded once before she answered. “I’m good. Just here with some friends. What about you? Is your girlfriend here? ”
The words left her mouth, but I still couldn’t believe she was the one who had said them. “Lyla’s at the bar getting us some drinks,” I said.
Cassie’s eyes were bright behind her dark lashes. I always told her she had the bluest eyes I had ever seen, and I had yet to be proven wrong. “What is she getting you?”
I shrugged. “Not sure. She likes to surprise me.”
She smiled down at the table, and I knew that look. She was replaying something in her head.
“What?” I asked, stifling a grin.
“Just remembering when I tried to surprise you with a drink, and you thought it was foul.”
“You brought me pickle juice!” I exclaimed.
“It’s a pickleback shot!” She lit up as she spoke. “Part of it is pickle juice.”
I shook my head like a disappointed father. “You know I hate pickles.”
“I did always find that odd.” She raised her eyebrows and took a sip of her drink. It was a cranberry vodka, which meant she was a few drinks in already. She only got liquor at the bars if she had a few beers before coming out.
The night she brought me that nasty shot was the night she told me she loved me. It was after her uncle’s fiftieth birthday party, and she had snuck downstairs to sleep with me in the living room. We stayed with her parents that weekend, and they had a strict separate bedroom rule. Cassie argued that they couldn’t kick her out of the living room, and after she said she loved me, I wouldn’t have let her leave anyway.
I opened my mouth to speak when Lyla approached the table. I stared at my drink and noticed I hadn’t done the one thing she asked me to. I took two long sips and pushed the empty glass to the center of the table .
“Perfect timing,” I lied.
“Look at that!” Lyla beamed. She leaned her elbows on the table and looked at Cassie. “I don’t think we’ve met! I’m Lyla.”
“Not officially, no,” Cassie said through a fake smile. “I saw your video, and I have to say, I thought it was amazing . I’m Cassie.”
I hoped to run out of moments when I wanted to disintegrate into the floor, but here I was, just adding to the list.
Lyla let out a hollow laugh, catching Cassie’s sarcasm. “One of my best moments. That’s it, Cassie . You’ve been friends with Deacon for a while, right?”
Cassie shifted her focus to me. “Friends?”
Was it too late to reminisce on the good old days? I did some mental digging through my Freshman to Junior Year with C tote and begged for something to surface.
“Try your drink.” Lyla slid my cup in front of me and took a sip of her own. “It’s a little stronger than they normally make it.”
I stared down at the dark liquid. “What is it?”
“It’s whiskey.” Lyla ran her fingers down my arm. “I figured you’d recognize Daddy’s drink by now.” She never mentioned Aaron Brooks being a drinker, but she sounded surprised.
“Minus the pickle juice.” Cassie giggled, directing her attention to Lyla. “My dad’s a whiskey guy, too.”
I took a long sip of my drink, and when one wasn’t enough to teleport me to another table, I took another.
Lyla squeezed my bicep but kept her focus on Cassie. “Your dad?”
Cassie gestured toward my cup. “You mentioned that’s your dad’s drink. Mine’s a whiskey guy, too. ”
“Ohhh, Daddy.” Lyla laughed, moving her hand up to my shoulder. “I was talking about Deacon. He’s into all that kinky shit, but I’m not complaining.”
I covered my mouth with my free hand to avoid spitting my drink across the table. I couldn’t look at Cassie, and Lyla was trying to get my attention by pretending to be concerned with my reaction.
“You okay, baby?” Lyla turned so she was facing me. “I told you they were strong!”
I coughed twice, and before I knew it, I was laughing.
“You know”—Cassie chuckled uncomfortably—“it looks like my roommate is ready to go.”
“That was so fucking weird of me to say,” Lyla said, her voice taking an apologetic tone.
“No, trust me, you’re good.” Cassie snuck in one more hollow laugh before she reached across the table and patted my hand. “You guys have a good night.”
I coughed one more time to clear my throat. “It was nice to see you, Cass.”
Lyla’s strained smile pinched her cheeks as she waited for a performance review.
I shook my head and pressed my lips together in a firm line. “So now we have kinky boyfriend-girlfriend shit?”
“You can call it whatever you want.” She laughed, sipping her drink proudly. “Just know that Cassie is going to spend the rest of her night thinking about everything you like to do now that she’s not in your bed.”