68. Lyla
Chapter sixty-eight
Lyla
The weather in Ohio liked to fuck with people. It was the first weekend in May, and while it was almost seventy-five degrees yesterday, it was in the low-sixties today. It wasn’t the kind of weather you wanted to wear a cute graduation dress in, even if you just graduated with your bachelor’s degree.
Since there were so many colleges within Bowling Green State University, Deacon’s graduation was in the morning, while mine took place that afternoon. When they called his name, and he walked across the stage, my chest swelled with pride. His parents clapped beside me, Georgia tearing up at the sight of her oldest son holding a diploma. Drew whooped and hollered even though the announcer asked us not to, but the charming smile that followed made it hard to reprimand his behavior.
It was bittersweet knowing that as Deacon completed a milestone he had worked so hard on, Dominic wasn’t here to see it. Even though I never got the chance to meet Dominic, I had a hunch that he was just as bold and persistent as Deacon was. Once we stepped outside, the skies cleared, and the wind picked up, making it challenging to manage the long graduation robes and tasseled hats. If Dominic were missing a photo opportunity, he’d make damn sure that his family felt him present in other ways .
My ceremony didn’t take as long as Deacon’s. He sat with my mom up in the stands, and when the announcer called my name to walk across the stage, it sounded like there was a party of ten there to support me. I shook the hand of a professor I didn’t recognize and focused on keeping one foot in front of the other. The last thing I wanted to do was leave Bowling Green with a video of me falling down the stairs. I already had one video floating around campus. I wasn’t trying for a second.
Back at my chair, I stared at the brown leather-bound diploma cover. Even though my dad wasn’t there to watch me walk, I never felt closer to him. He gave me the greatest gift he could’ve given me by not attending. I received an email that my trust was finalized this morning, and I liked to think that Aaron Brooks waved his magic wand to make it happen. I was free of him.
After we said goodbye to my mom, Deacon and I finished packing the apartment. Call me a typical rom-com girl, but after Deacon told me he loved me, I asked him to move back in for the remainder of the semester. I couldn’t help it. Michael Myers would just have to continue waiting in the background.
I placed the last box of kitchen supplies on the counter and glanced around the empty space. Charlie, Michelle, and Keira left right after graduation, and since we threw an impromptu “I Liked Living With You” party last night, there was no need to stick around for sappy farewells.
“It’s quiet without your crew,” Deacon said, taking my hand and pulling me onto his lap on the couch. “How does it feel to spend your last night in a BG apartment?”
“I just don’t know what I’m going to do without overpriced student living. ”
Deacon chuckled, leaning forward to grab his laptop from the coffee table. “You still haven’t looked at the apartments I showed you, have you?”
“No, because it will ruin my optimism. We will have a perfect-sized apartment close enough to the perfect space I’ll rent for Brooks Books.”
“Brooks Books?” Deacon beamed. “Wait, are you serious?”
I downplayed my cheesy grin. “For now. We’ll see how it looks on all of the marketing materials I have in mind.”
His hand moved under my shirt as he shifted closer. I knew where this was going, and my body agreed before I could think through the next step.
“Wait, wait, wait,” I protested, pushing against his chest. “We said we’d have three options nailed down so we could make appointments to look at them next weekend. I want to make sure we have a place before you figure out your school schedule. Not to mention Lily wants to visit this summer, and my mom is all ready to come—”
“I sent you apartments,” he countered, his mouth moving to the sensitive skin behind my ear.
“I don’t know if the options you sent me are good. We haven’t looked at them.”
He chuckled, groaning in defeat at my incoming stream of questions. “Why would I send you bad apartments? Don’t you trust me?”
“I do trust you, probably more than I should, actually,” I said, repeating the phrase he used a few months ago at City Tap.
His eyes narrowed. “Clever, sweetheart.”
I kissed up his jawline, brushing my lips playfully against his. “And we don’t lie, Deacon Scott. ”
The sexy smirk I loved crept into the corner of his mouth. He kissed me, and we spent the next hour saying goodbye to my Bowling Green apartment in a much more exciting way than looking at apartments. Deacon probably already had the appointments set up anyway since I knew he’d never let us go that long without a plan.
I wasn’t sure how I ended up here, but I thanked whatever stars needed to align to make it happen. I had no idea that the guy who showed up on my doorstep that morning, who agreed to be my fake boyfriend, would end up the person I was missing. There was something incredible about someone who could make you believe that love could be unconditional, but there was something irreplaceable about a best friend who made you believe in yourself.