30. Lyla
Chapter thirty
Lyla
There were a few times in my life I considered myself speechless, and I wasn’t expecting to add another moment to that list when I invited Deacon to browse Halloween costumes.
I wasn’t sure what to say. There was nothing to say. Deacon spoke about Dominic in the present tense, and no words could make anything about losing a sibling better. Drew knew about our agreement because the drink I brought him that morning reminded him of a person who was no longer here, and it was clear that Deacon hadn’t shared that part of his past with me.
I drew my hand from his hair and wrapped it around his shoulder. I pulled him close and rested my chin on his head. “I am so sorry, Deacon.”
Deacon turned and rested his hands on either side of my hips. My heart sank, taking in every ounce of pain I could carry for him. I wished I could take it all and hold onto it for as long as he’d let me. I smoothed the skin under his eyes with my thumbs and waited for him to continue.
“I was with Cassie for almost a year when it happened,” Deacon murmured. “Everyone who matters in my life knows about Dominic. When you mentioned that drink, Drew knew. Plus, Drew hates matcha.” Deacon chuckled, and I wanted to bottle up the sound. “If I were really with you for as long as we’ve been together, you’d know it was Dominic’s.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, wishing the side of me that knew words would show up already.
“Baby—” Deacon pressed his lips together, trying not to smile. The dreaded B-word sounded adorable as it left Deacon’s mouth. “You don’t have to be sorry. You had no way of knowing because I never said anything to you.”
“That night I stayed at your place,” I pondered. “When you mentioned the panic attacks . . .”
Deacon nodded. “I had them for about a year after Dominic passed. I recognized the look on your face at The Attic that night, but we were still so new to each other. It wasn’t my place to say anything to you.”
I squeezed his shoulders and let my hands fall to my lap. Deacon’s sexy half-smile slowly reappeared, and I had to look at the pavement to keep my thoughts at an appropriate level. I hadn’t fully processed Deacon’s confession, and my mind refusing to leave the gutter reassured me of that.
“You haven’t asked the obvious question yet.” He sounded surprised, and eventually, he gave up on me guessing. “Now that Drew knows, does that mean our boyfriend-girlfriend shit is over?”
“Honestly, that option hadn’t even crossed my mind,” I admitted. “Some things are more important than money, Deac.”
You mean, Deacon—your fake boyfriend—is more important than the money .
Deacon offered me his hand and slid me off the hood of his car. “Let’s go get you those costumes.”
I ignored the ringing thoughts in my head. Now, my wordy side wanted to show up and have something to say.
Two weeks before Halloween, Deacon had to make another trip to the store to get a sailor hat for his Popeye costume. He had the broad shoulders and arm muscles to pull off the look with a plain navy shirt, but the bag of accessories we picked out had everything but the hat, which was essential to the sailor’s beefy appearance.
My costume wasn’t hard to throw together, either. I refused to wear the wig but wasn’t worried about being Olive Oyl. That bitch had nothing on the skirt and tight red V-neck I had on deck in my closet.
After Deacon told me about Dominic, I could tell he felt a little lighter. It was like he got to put a weight down he had been struggling to hold. I achieved a new level with every piece of information I learned about Deacon Scott. Every advance revealed another side of him, and the more time I spent as his fake girlfriend, the more I wanted to know.
“It’s weird not having a costume with you this year,” Charlie said from the recliner. We were scrolling aimlessly on our phones while Michelle and Keira were working in the kitchen.
It was Friday, and while we’d usually be getting ready to go out, Mother Nature had a way of spoiling a mood. It was downpouring, and no one felt like walking around in the rain.
“I’ve officially lost you to a man,” Charlie pouted.
“Why don’t you go as a can of spinach,” I offered. “Deacon won’t mind if you tag along.”
Charlie chuckled as her thumbs tapped wildly on her phone screen.
I returned to my scrolling, and a picture of Deacon and I came across my Instagram feed. I almost sent the photo to Aaron Brooks and his business account so he could revisit InstaSnap, but I decided against it. He didn’t deserve to see the adorable evidence.
In the photo, Deacon had his arm draped lazily across my chest, holding a beer in his free hand. I caught him mid-laugh as I smiled up at the camera. We took it right after our run-in with Cassie at Bar 149—right after Daddy Deacon appeared, and neither of us could stop laughing about it.
“Tacos are done!” Michelle announced.
“Yeeesss,” Charlie sang.
It was a quiet evening with tacos and margaritas. Everyone was so busy with school, work, and personal agendas that I hadn’t seen much of Michelle and Keira. It was nice to have some time to ourselves in the apartment.
I was serving up a second round of blackberry margaritas when Brady Blue Eyes lit up the center of my phone screen.
Brady Blue Eyes
Hey! Are you going out tonight?
Lyla
It doesn’t look like it. Girls night in.
Brady Blue Eyes
Bummer. Next weekend?
I sent him a thumbs-up emoji and placed my phone on the counter. As much as I was itching to get back to a regular sex routine, I wasn’t up for it this weekend. I had my period, felt bloated as hell, and the rain was sending me even further into my feels. I was less than a month away from introducing Deacon to my dad, and the anticipation was taking a toll.
Maybe anticipation wasn’t the appropriate word. Was damnation better fitting?
Charlie smacked my arm. “Are you seeing Deacon tonight?”
“No. Am I the only one catching the girls' night vibe?” I surveyed the group, and they all nodded in agreement. “It’s gross outside, and we’ve gone out every weekend since we got back.”
“We can start a game of Monopoly, just the four of us?” Michelle offered.
“Is that what we’ve been reduced to?” Keira smiled, popping a chip into her mouth. “A game of Monopoly?”
I sipped my margarita. “Nothing wrong with some Monopoly.”
“Okay, bitch.” Charlie laughed with Michelle and Keira as they shared a silent exchange.
“Okay, what?” I demanded playfully.
“It’s just been entertaining,” Keira said slowly. “Watching you completely fall for a guy.”
It was stomach-churning to hear a statement about me falling for anyone . The only reason I didn’t vomit on the spot was my ongoing award-winning performance.
“Cassie even asked me if you were the real deal.” Michelle’s hand flew to her mouth, and she widened her innocent stare. “I wasn’t supposed to say that.”
“Who’s Cassie?” Charlie demanded.
“Deacon’s ex-girlfriend,” I answered quickly, turning to Michelle. While I usually blurred Michelle’s constant need to speak about nonsense, she officially had my attention. “Wait, are you friends with Cassie?”
“She’s in my Tuesday night study group,” Michelle said. “We’re in the same math section right now, and the professor is pretty brutal with—”
I fanned the last part of her sentence away. “I don’t care about the math, Michelle! How long have you known that Cassie was Deacon’s ex?”
“Since that video of you dancing at The Attic was flying around campus. It was shared again recently and—”
“Shared recently ?” I whined. Eventually, I’d let this poor girl finish a statement. I pulled out my phone to scroll through Instagram. I hadn’t seen a shred of evidence that the video of me at The Attic was still relevant entertainment. I brought my inner thoughts to the group again. “Have any of you seen it recently?”
The silent sips of margaritas were enough to answer my question.
“Fuuuck,” I groaned as I spotted my favorite yellow sundress moving up and down on the famous stripper pole. “My dad is totally going to see this . . . again .”
Charlie’s eyebrow twitched, and her eyes narrowed. She swallowed her mouthful of margarita and patted my hand. “I forgot I need help picking an outfit for tomorrow night.” Her accusing stare told a different story. “ Now .”
Keira started around the counter. “I want to help!”
Charlie held out her arm to stop her. “ Bedroom outfit for tomorrow.”
“Oh.” Keira frowned, and Michelle giggled nervously. Any mention of the bedroom stopped both of them in their tracks. You couldn’t find an apartment more evenly divided when it came to sex .
Charlie grabbed my hand and pulled me off the barstool. Once we were in her room, she slammed the door behind her and crossed her arms.
I opened the top drawer of her dresser. “Are you seeing Andre again tomorrow? Is that why—”
“I don’t know why I didn’t see it before.”
I scanned the room to see if I missed the lingerie displays. “See what?”
“The morning your dad called about the video—the need to convince him you’ve changed. The knight in shining armor boyfriend . . . and then Deacon just happens to date you a few weeks later?”
I swallowed. Shit .
Charlie smiled at her accomplishment. “You aren’t dating Deacon, are you? It’s all for show.”
My phone buzzed in my hand, and the light drew Charlie’s attention.
She held out her hand. “Let me see your phone?”
I handed it over.
Charlie’s mouth fell open, and she chuckled at the evidence. “Brady Blue Eyes. Bitch, you better spill.”
I had Brady Blue Eyes on my phone screen and Deacon on my mind. When the fuck did my life sound like a poorly written song lyric?
I spent the next ten minutes telling Charlie everything. Deacon had someone on his side of the line who knew the truth. Now, I just considered us to be even.