Chapter 21
Willow
First kiss
With the temperature dropping, I wished I’d worn more than this thin sweater.
Deacon had insisted on walking me home once the game finally ended.
That was when I’d discovered my Park Place card shoved under the board, though I still bankrupted the last two players standing in my way.
I felt like I was walking on air with how much fun I’d had.
“There was so much cheating. I think my breaking rules item has been thoroughly checked off,” I said.
I looked to my left at Deacon, who’d been quiet since Marcus and Emi made their announcements. He nodded with a smile, but didn’t say anything as we continued along the sidewalk.
“It got cold,” I commented to break the silence, and Deacon looked over at me, startled as if I’d interrupted something he was deep in thought about.
“Oh, yeah.” He stopped and peeled his gray hoodie over his head and handed it to me.
“Take this.” It was heavy and smelled like him.
He’d caught me sniffing him on the roof, so I made sure to do my quick inhale when he wasn’t looking.
“And don’t do that girl thing where you pretend you’re not cold. ”
“Are you saying you’re not cold?” I smiled and tugged the material over my head, the neck getting momentarily caught on my hair. I felt Deacon’s hands through the material, and he tugged it down, adjusting the hood over my hair.
“It’s fucking freezing, but I’m doing that boy thing where I hide my shivers so you see me as virile and invincible.
” His finger brushed my cheek as he helped me adjust the hood, and he flashed a wry grin.
A warmth shot through me at the unexpected sensation.
The inside of the sweatshirt was cozy from his body heat. “I run hot, anyway.”
His hand fell away from my face after a moment, and he nodded toward my house. “I shouldn’t have had so much to drink, then I could have driven you home.” As it was, Sybil and Kieran took a Lyft back to their place, and everyone else was in the process of passing out at the house.
“You don’t have to always take care of me,” I reminded him, bumping my shoulder against his, our fingers at our side grazing with the motion. “I’m not actually your responsibility.”
“Sure you are.” He wrapped an arm around my shoulder and rubbed my arm through the fabric. “I can’t let a damsel in distress be cold.”
“I’m not a damsel.” Ignoring the way his touch sent electricity through my body was a losing battle that had nothing to do with being cold.
“And I’m not in distress.” I’d felt that more and more recently, actually.
“I’ve actually been thinking more about vet school, and it’s so tempting to give it a try. ”
Deacon’s arm felt comforting and heavy on my shoulder. “Why would you not?”
“I should, but…you really do need to be the best to get in.” I’d never seen a more competitive group of people than my cohort in animal science—everyone who was pre-vet was competing for top of the class, and some of them hadn’t gotten in. I swallowed the self-doubt that crept in at my own words.
“Don’t do that,” he said. “How do you know you’re not the best? Real talk, Low?”
A gust of wind whipped around us, and I leaned into Deac, who tightened his hold on me. His touch sent warmth throughout my body that had nothing to do with his body heat. “Of course.”
“I think you don’t know you’re the best because you’ve spent a long time avoiding situations where you’d have to put yourself out there. I get the sense you were hiding even before the memes. I think you should apply to school if you want to, for what it’s worth. It’s a re-do, right?”
“Maybe you should take your own advice.”
“Apply to vet school? I would look good in the white coat.”
“About finding out who you are without your ex. Except your ex is the Air Force. I know you plan to go back in, but while you’re here, what are you doing?
Your whole focus seems to be on going back—training, keeping your circle tight to not get distracted, biding your time at school.
” I raised a thumbnail to my lip and paused my steps, pulling away so I could meet his gaze. “I think you’re hiding, too.”
I couldn’t read his expression, but I’d gone too far to back off now, and I reached out to stroke his forearm, his skin still warm despite the cold. “Deac, I hope you get to go back, but what if you don’t? I’d hate for you to think your only worth is as a PJ.”
“Maybe,” he finally said, noncommittal, nudging my shoulder and beginning to stroll again. We walked together in the quiet for a minute or two.
Clouds had rolled in while we played, and it smelled like rain. The night sky was colored a muted dark gray. “Deac, are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Why?”
“Because you haven’t made a single sexual innuendo in like two hours.” I nudged my shoulder against him again. “Are you sick?”
He chuckled, but it wasn’t his usual laugh. “I must be slipping.”
“Guess so.” I wasn’t stumbling drunk, but I felt the lightness in my step and freedom in my words that I enjoyed about being tipsy.
“I mean, no allusions to your penis, no subtle suggestions that someone should go to bed with you. You haven’t even checked your phone to gently let down the crowd of women sliding into your DMs. Frankly, I’m concerned. ”
“Wow, you’ve really got my number, huh?” I thought he’d laugh, but he gave a wan smile. “Makes me sound like kind of an asshole.” We both paused for passing cars before crossing the street.
“No,” I said, stopping once we’d crossed the street. “I didn’t mean it like that. I like the allusions to your penis!” An elderly couple walking their dog gave me dirty looks I tried to ignore. “Seriously, though, what’s wrong?”
We started along the sidewalk again. The concrete was crumbling along the path, with patches of grass invading the walkway. “Because you can tell me. Remember?” I paused and sang “Baby, I own you now,” with a flourish of my hands still in the sleeve of his hoodie.
He gave another half smile. “You know, that satirical version is actually just as creepy as the original.”
“Even more so,” I said, snagging the end of his sleeve to tug him forward. The wind was picking up.
“So, will you tell me what’s wrong?”
“Why brunch?” he asked, changing the subject with zero subtlety. “What’s the significance?”
“Don’t think I didn’t notice you avoiding my question,” I said, but he gave me a one-shoulder shrug and a little smile, and I knew I’d let him get away with it. “Brunch. Well, I told you my ex’s parents had a lot of money?”
“Yeah.”
“We had brunch with them once a month at their country club. The first time, I was sixteen and terrified I’d use the wrong fork or spill something.
They were nice, but it was so stiff and uncomfortable, and I always felt like I was under a microscope.
I just wanted something messy to eat, like biscuits and gravy, but that would have made things worse.
” In retrospect, Spencer never seemed to notice my discomfort, or maybe I just got so used to hiding what I really thought, I never gave him a chance to.
“I will insist you order biscuits and gravy and spill something all over yourself on Sunday,” he said. “I’ll find the least classy place I can.”
I smiled and hugged the hoodie tighter around me. “Thanks, Deac. I can’t wait.” We continued down the sidewalk toward the house and I added, “And I won’t make you tell me what’s wrong, but you know you can. Big questions, right?”
We walked in silence for another few moments, and I was resigned to him just being in a mood, but he broke the silence finally. “They’re all leaving.”
“Marcus and Emi?”
He nodded. “I didn’t have people to lean on when I was discharged.
Not really.” Deacon’s voice was low and soft in a way I hadn’t heard before.
“I had Cruz and the guys, but they were halfway around the world, and I’m not close with my parents.
I didn’t have anyone for months, and then I had Marcus and Emi and then Sybil, too.
This is the anniversary of my…of when everything happened with my back.
It’s a rough reminder, and they always distract me with a party. ”
I finally understood his mood. “And they’re both leaving.”
He nodded. “I should just be happy for them, and wow, I sound like a clingy asshole rather than a slutty one.”
“Hey, a slutty one with a giant penis, if I’ve interpreted your allusions correctly.”
This time he laughed for real and looked down at me with a wide grin as the wind blew his hair around his face. “Yeah,” he said, letting out another chuckle.
“And you still have me,” I offered, patting my chest. I was about to say something else when my toe caught on a loose piece of concrete and I stumbled forward, my breath catching until Deacon’s arms were around me, one hand at my waist and the other steadying my arm.
“Looks like I’m the one who has you,” he said, his lips close enough to mine for me to see his puffs of breath in the cold.
When Deacon’s hand gripped my waist firmly to steady me, I inhaled the clean scent of him.
I expected him to let me go immediately, but he paused with his hands on me, and I tried to memorize the feeling.
“Maybe we’ve got each other.” I placed a palm gently on his biceps, feeling the firm muscle under the soft cotton of his long-sleeved T-shirt and noticing the way he dragged in a breath when I touched him.
“I know I’m not as cool as Emi or as good a cook as Marcus, and no one is as fun and pretty as Sybil, but I’m here.
” I risked another stroke along the definition in his upper arm, and his expression looked pensive.
“You bankrupted me in Monopoly,” he said, righting me. His hand remained at my waist, though. “Took all my money.”
“That was business,” I said, squeezing his arm to get one more feel. “I said I’d be here for you, not let you slide on rent. Just because I do volunteer work doesn’t mean this is a charity.”