32. Lyla
Chapter thirty-two
Lyla
When a holiday weekend was on the horizon, sometimes the bar scene just couldn’t compete with the anticipation.
Deacon and I decided to call it an early night, and when we stepped outside Brathaus, I did a silent shout-out to climate change as I wrapped my arms around my chest. The only thing worse than the BG wind during the day was the BG winter wind at night. I only had a few drinks, so I didn’t even have a beer coat to keep me warm.
“Cold?” Deacon started taking off his Champion hoodie, and I held out a hand to stop him.
I smiled at the gesture. “I’ll survive.”
He raised his arm to let me know I could walk with him, and I leaned into his side to let his body temperature make a mockery of mine. “So, who is this guy you’re seeing?”
I loved how casually he asked the question. “His name is Brady. He seems like a decent guy, but we’ll see.”
“Does it count as Mr. October if only one week is left?”
I chuckled. “You sound like Charlie. I haven’t thought about it, honestly. Between you meeting my dad in a few weeks and your whole Cassie situation, my calendar has been put on hold.”
“Well, I think it’s safe to say that we admire your sacrifices, Lyla Brooks. ”
Deacon and I were a happy couple talking about the progress we made with other people. It really was 2016.
Deacon was looking up at the sky when I glanced over at him. “What’s going on over there?” I prompted gently.
He did a double-take when he noticed me staring at him. His adorable half-smile curved into his cheek, and he shrugged. “It’s nothing.”
“If it’s in your head, it’s not nothing. Talk to me, Scott.”
He bit the inside of his cheek and looked up again. “The sky looks a little different when you have someone up there. You appreciate it a little more. Pay attention to it.”
There was a sharp pang in my chest. “That makes sense. Does it make you think about him?”
“I think about Dominic every day,” he admitted. “Even though it happened two years ago, it still doesn’t feel real. I’ll be in the middle of doing something, and it will hit me out of nowhere.”
My heart sank as an intensity I didn’t recognize washed over his face. There was heartbreak, but then there was grief. Heartbreak could exist in multiple situations on its own but grief . . . grief fed off of heartbreak, one of the most stubborn emotions we struggled to fight against.
I had seen loss before. I felt it when my grandmother passed away. But the look on Deacon’s face was an unimaginable pain that was caused by losing someone who wasn’t supposed to be gone yet.
I grabbed his hand. “I always wondered why you look at the sky as often as you do. It all makes sense now.”
Deacon seemed amused by that statement. “Do I do that?”
“Yup. What would Dominic say about this whole thing? You having a fake girlfriend to try and get Cassie back. ”
“He would say it’s stupid,” Deacon said, laughing. “I do wonder which one of you he’d vote for.”
I raised my eyebrows and smiled. “ Vote for?”
Deacon threw his hands out in front of him. “Well, yeah! I like you, Brooks. Dominic would probably sit there and wonder what I was doing, trying to win my ex back while I’m getting closer to my fake girlfriend.”
I stopped walking. “Deacon Scott—”
“Oh, don’t hit me with your rules shit,” he teased. “Whatever you think you just gathered from that, trust me, I didn’t mean it that way.”
I narrowed my gaze. “We don’t lie.”
Deacon laced his fingers with mine. “We don’t lie. You’ve learned more about me in two months than most people learn in six. I like spending time with you, and I’d be lying if I said spending time with you didn’t make me like you more.”
Was this an example of growth? I heard a guy say he liked getting close to me, and I didn’t want to vomit. There was no way I was leaving for Mr. October if Deacon needed the company tonight. I would tackle that red flag in my “Keep Things Casual” novel some other time.
We walked the remainder of the street until we were in front of Deacon’s building. It was eerily quiet, but then I remembered it was still early. It was only one-thirty in the morning.
Deacon dropped my hand, and my fingers felt cold. “Do you need anything from inside?”
“No.” I exhaled, crossing my arms. “I’m okay. Brady lives a street over, so it isn’t far.”
“You text me when you get there,” Deacon ordered. While I usually hated being told what to do, when those orders came from Deacon, it was incredibly sexy .
I turned to walk away, but Deacon grabbed my hand again.
“And if you feel like walking home, you call me. Understand?” The skin around his eyes went soft, and he squeezed my hand. “I don’t care what time it is.”
I squeezed his hand back. “I’ll be okay.”
Deacon’s voice echoed down the street as I put a few houses between us. “Call me! I’ll be pissed if you walk home by yourself!”
A pissed Deacon Scott? For the rest of my walk, I wondered if that version said “atta girl” too.