Chapter 20
Deacon
I rolled my shoulders and stretched my neck from side to side, glancing at the clock on my phone.
I’d pushed myself again at the gym, only this time it wasn’t just about the numbers I needed to reach, but a necessary means of distraction.
It had been two weeks since I took Willow up to the rooftop bar, since she hugged me and snuggled against me in the cool morning air and told me about her mom.
It had all been so…intimate, like something special, and I hadn’t been able to stop thinking of how much I enjoyed being there for her like that.
How good she felt in my arms. I could thank Willow and her big brown eyes for the extra mile I’d run.
The extra pull-ups were solely due to how her face fit against my neck and the way her soft breath brushed against the skin there.
Even now, sitting in the library in front of my econ book, the memory of those soft breaths made my cock twitch, and that couldn’t happen.
The sound of the book closing was a satisfying thud, and I shoved it into my backpack.
“Deacon, hey. Thought that was you.” Kelly and a few guys I didn’t know approached the table I’d snagged in the library. “Mind if we join you?”
“I’m just leaving,” I said, as they filled in around the table.
“Before you go, these are a few of the guys from the center.” She pointed to each one. “Bryce, Andre, and Smith.” She chuckled to herself. “God, Smith, I don’t even know your first name.”
They were across the table, so I just gave a nod. I guessed the three of them were Army. Smith shook my hand from nearest me. “Deacon,” I said, slinging my bag over my shoulder. I knocked the tabletop with my fist. “It’s a good spot. Enjoy.”
“We meet every Friday afternoon here,” Kelly said, pulling a laptop and books from her bag. “Just to study. You should join us sometime.”
I shrugged one shoulder, feeling the sore muscles.
“Yeah. Maybe sometime.” I gave another wave to her and the other guys.
“Thanks for the invite.” Walking out of the library, I knew I had no plans to join them.
The disability benefit check was an unwelcome, constant reminder of my retirement, and I wasn’t ready to hang out with others who were done, too. That felt too permanent.
My body protested when I climbed in the car.
I slid a hand across my lower back, feeling the long scar that ran halfway up my back, tracing the familiar bumps and ridges along my spine.
An aneurysmal bone cyst compressing my spinal nerve.
I learned that was what almost cost us a mission when I’d woken up in the hospital.
My phone buzzed with a notification, and I caught sight of the date, not that I needed the reminder.
It had been three years to the day since something smaller than a gumball ended my career.
The phone buzzed again before I could throw the truck in reverse.
Marcus: Lila and I are making a beer run. Negra Modelo?
Deacon: And limes.
Marcus: Obviously. You think I just met you or something?
He always remembered shit like that. It was the same way I suspected he or Emi remembered today was the anniversary of the accident and planned a game night in the house just as they’d done the last year.
As an only child to busy parents, I didn’t grow up with that kind of attention.
I’d had it with the PJs, though. Dougy remembered everyone’s birthdays and made a big fucking deal about them, and Simms’s wife always sent extra cookies, including all our individual favorites, for him to share with everyone when we could get mail.
I scrubbed my hand over my jaw again, shaking away the ache that rose in my chest that had nothing to do with the spinal surgery memories.
I slapped a palm against my cheek. I was going back, so I didn’t need to get sad about it.
And in the interim, I had my people. I’d have limes with the Negra Modelo, and Willow was coming over, too.
Once I made it home, I fell onto my bed and picked up the book I’d grabbed from the campus bookstore—A Beginner’s Guide to Chess.
I flipped through the pages. I was tired of Jayden kicking my ass, plus he was a good kid who didn’t have a lot of other people he spent time with.
I supposed we were kind of alike that way, and I wanted him to know I cared about what he cared about.
“Marvin Gardens!” Willow squealed as my piece landed on her property, and cheers went up around the table from my traitorous friends. “Rent is due!”
“My God,” Kieran said, his arm draped across the back of Sybil’s chair. “She’s as bad a winner as you are, Deac.”
I held up my middle finger in his direction as I counted out the rent due, the amount seriously depleting my stash.
“I’m not a bad winner,” Willow mused, bringing the beer bottle to her lips, the same lips that had distracted me all night.
“I’m not, either. Kieran is just a sore loser,” I grumbled, handing over the stack of brightly colored bills, my fingers brushing against Willow’s, taking away the sting of going broke.
“You literally sang, ‘Baby, I own you now’ to him when we played at Christmas,” Sybil said, defending her fiancé. “Willow, it was impressive. There were verses and choreography.”
“Baby, I Own You Now…as in Baby, It’s Cold Outside?” Willow looked from me to the group.
“I really can’t pay,” Marcus and Lila crooned together. “Baby, I own you now.”
Emi chimed in. “Is there any other way? Baby, I own you now.”
Kieran wrapped an arm around my shoulders and crooned along with them. “Reading Railroad has been…so very nice.”
Willow’s expression was bright as she watched my friends, wide-eyed, before turning back to me. “You did the entire song?”
“Multiple times,” Emi said, reaching for the dice. “It’s why we all know it so well.”
“You really are a bad winner,” Willow said with a wink and patted my shoulder. The weight of her small hand was an odd comfort, and I didn’t want her to stop touching me.
“I’ve got to pass go,” I sang to her, hoping to keep her hand in place, just for a few more seconds, and to hold on to the warmth in the room.
Willow didn’t miss a beat and added, “Baby, I own you now.” More cheers from my friends went up around the table.
Willow’s expression was mischievous, and she held up her hands for high fives, pressing her palms against mine like they belonged there.
She motioned to her row of properties ahead of my top hat, the hotels and houses crowding the board, but my gaze moved back up to her face and the corner of her lips as she sang, taking in the crinkle by her eyes and how the curls fell over her neck.
Around the table, everyone joined in, the echo bouncing off the walls of the small dining room. Glasses raised toward the ceiling, they finished with a flourish. “Baby, she owns you now!”
“So, what I’m hearing is that you have no room to talk about good and bad winners.” Willow giggled, pulling her hands from mine and fanning herself.
“Maybe.” I had this feeling like I was where I was supposed to be with my friends around me and Willow so close. At that moment, I felt like I was home. I draped my arm over her shoulders again, my fingertips grazing her skin. “But you could cut me a break?”
“You’ve met your match, Deac,” Sybil said after snuggling back up to Kieran. “I never thought anyone would best you in Corrupt Monopoly.”
Lila’s phone rang, and Emi asked about refills. Everyone rose from their chairs during the impending break. “House rules!” Emi called over her shoulder, indicating that no one should touch the board during the break.
“Of course,” Sybil said as she swiped two fifties from Kieran’s organized stacks of bills and slid them to her own messy pile.
“Would never dream of breaking house rules,” Marcus added, grabbing those same fifties when Sybil’s back was turned.
“Everyone cheats during the no-cheating break time?” Willow raised an eyebrow in my direction and I nodded.
“If you can get away with it.” I twirled one of her curls around my finger and waggled my eyebrows. “Helps if you have an accomplice.”
“I might help you out,” Willow said as the group dispersed. She fanned out a stack of bright pink bills and waved them in front of her chest. And nope, I won’t look at her chest. “What’s in it for me?”
“Are you subtly asking for a bribe?”
Willow tapped the tip of her finger on the top hat. “It wasn’t subtle. Quid pro quo is how this thing works, right?” Her impression of the Godfather was god-awful, but I couldn’t take my eyes off her.
“How about you let me out of rent until I pass Go, and I take you to brunch tomorrow morning? That’s on your list, right? Unless you prefer to eat alone like the robber baron you’re revealing yourself to be.”
She pressed a fingertip to her lips as if considering, and the red of her nail grazed her lower lip.
I’d noticed more red nail polish since we painted her room because the bright shade was a captivating pop of color against her skin tone.
She was wearing a red shirt tonight, too—some kind of soft-looking fabric that dipped to a V in the front, showing the roundness of her breasts.
“Tomorrow, I’m going with Hollis to my first protest march. It’s against book bans.” She curled the end of an imaginary mustache. “I haven’t gone full robber baron.”
She was so cute, and when she dropped the act and grinned, her dimple popped. “Sunday?”
“Bottomless mimosas and you’ve got a deal.” She held out her hand, and I took it in mine for a shake. Her hands were soft and warm as she squeezed. “But I still own you,” she added with a wink.
I gave her hand a gentle squeeze in return and looked away from her face before my gaze dipped to her lips again. I’d never wanted to be possessed by someone so much in my life. “I can live with that.”