10. Lyla
Chapter ten
Lyla
Andre chose a shitty time to admit to us that there wasn’t a single breakfast place in BG that served mimosas. There was a Bob Evan’s and a few family-owned restaurants, but none stocked the champagne necessary to make my morning bubbly. Part of this was my fault. I spent three years on campus and should’ve known this information.
I sighed against the car door and watched the trees blur by on our way down Main. My stomach grumbled, and I glared at Charlie. Her lips made a thin line, and I knew she was trying not to laugh.
“What about coffee?” Deacon’s eyes met mine in the rearview. The way the sun hit them was extraordinary. “We promised you food, right?”
I decided his offer was too sweet to pass up. “I can do a chai tea latte from Grounds.”
Deacon dropped his shoulders and signaled that we were pulling over. I tried not to act too impressed with how well he parallel parked with an audience. I firmly believed that if parallel parking were the only option, I’d find another place to stop or happily walk myself from a nearby parking lot.
Grounds for Thought was the perfect spot to spend a Sunday recovering. The usual chit-chat buzz and casual coffee house playlist were in the background, but it was a bright and relaxing atmosphere to get back on track. Last night had been a doozy, and this morning followed close behind it.
I had no idea how to fix the hole I dug last night, and because of it, I was losing to Aaron Brooks and his financial upper hand. The stakes I set for myself weren’t impossibly high. I needed a knight in shining armor boyfriend who had his shit together. But I came up blank as I scrolled through the list of guys on my phone, reuniting with calendar names I hadn’t seen since last year.
I couldn’t even get past the labels of some of these contacts. If I slept with them, they were in my phone as the month and their first name, for God’s sake. Something told me there was no way I could get May-August Jake to go along with being my boyfriend for a few months. If I didn’t sleep with them, I provided a context clue. I had no idea who Penthouse Josh was.
I leaned my face into my hands. Andre and Charlie laughed at something on the other side of the table, and I decided to put my issues on hold until I was more equipped to deal with last night's damage. Deacon called my name from across the shop and waved me over. I met him at the register, and his light brown eyes were laced with sorrow as he delivered the news.
“They’re out of chai tea. Anything else you want?”
I forgot he had been there this morning to witness a replay of my Usher performance and my dad’s threat. I stared blankly at the tip jar, and Deacon tapped my shoulder.
“Do you like matcha?”
“Yeah, why?”
Deacon turned his attention to the cashier. “Do you have blueberry syrup?”
The cashier nodded. “We have that. ”
“Can she have a large iced matcha with blueberry syrup and oat milk, please?”
The cashier looked at me to confirm the order.
I shrugged. “Why not?”
Since Charlie was practically in Andre’s lap, I decided to stick around the counter with Deacon to wait for our order. I eyed him suspiciously. It was such a specific order he had on the tip of his tongue that I had to ask. “Matcha, huh?”
Deacon looked down at the ground and smiled. “I took a shot. It’s one of my brother’s favorite drinks.” When he looked up, I did my best to make it look like I wasn’t staring at him.
A barista called out our drink orders from behind the counter. “Iced black coffee with caramel and vanilla! Iced matcha with blueberry and oat milk!”
I plucked two straws from the cup near the tip jar and handed one to Deacon. “No creamer or anything?”
“Nah.”
I wasn’t sure if I should be concerned or impressed with how much this man smiled. The barista placed two more drinks before us, and I grabbed Charlie’s staple strawberry banana smoothie.
As I sat there listening to Andre’s recap of the night at The Attic, I knew Charlie would see him again after this. She could barely keep her eyes off of him.
“I can’t believe that was you on the pole!” Andre exclaimed.
I leaned forward to face Deacon. “You told him?”
“Everyone has kind of seen it already,” he said with an apologetic shrug. “I didn’t show it to him out of spite! Trust me, it was all positive reviews. ”
Andre nodded and took a long sip of his drink. I rolled my eyes at the two of them, and Charlie shielded her mouth with her hand so I couldn’t see her laughing. Even though I couldn’t see her response, she had been waiting to laugh about this all morning.
“Is Aaron still freaking out?” she asked.
“I’ve received a text every twenty minutes since he called me this morning.”
“Is Aaron your boyfriend?” Andre prompted eagerly from the seat across from me. “Is he pissed about the video?”
Deacon patted my forearm and smiled into his iced coffee. He enjoyed being in the inside circle of my ongoing saga. I glared at him while Charlie giggled through a response to Andre’s question for me.
“Lyla doesn’t date .”
I searched my brain for a conversation change. “Have you scanned the crowd for No Style Kyle? Is he here this time?”
“Don’t bring up my shit because—wait a second.” Charlie shifted in her seat and pointed to Deacon. “I’ve seen you before. I knew you looked familiar! I’ve seen you here before.”
“Was I with you?” I asked, invested in the epiphany, because if I was in the same room as Deacon, I would have remembered him. He was too pretty to pass up.
“Yes!” Charlie exclaimed. “It was the day we decided to keep our lease at Falcon’s Pointe.”
“That was what, the end of—”
“Last year.” Deacon sighed, drawing the attention of the table.
Andre peered out the window like something got his attention.
Charlie locked eyes with me and shrugged. An entire minute passed, and I couldn’t stand the silence anymore .
“Who knew we’d meet up again?” I offered lightheartedly to the group.
Deacon smiled faintly. “Are you guys ready?”
It was a short ride back to Falcon’s Pointe. After Charlie and Andre exchanged numbers, we bid our goodbyes and walked up the stairs to the apartment.
“I’m totally seeing that guy again,” Charlie said with a massive grin. “His friend is hot, too.”
I scoffed at her suggestion. “Not my type, Charlie. He’s way too nice. He could never survive thirty days with me.”