50. Lyla
Chapter fifty
Lyla
When a gorgeous man in a backward hat stood in your doorway, leaned up against the frame with captivating brown eyes, it didn’t matter what that man asked. You said yes.
I had missed his question the first time, but when Deacon dropped the boyfriend-girlfriend-shit line on me, I did my best to look past the flowers and amazing gift. I stared at him from the safety of my bed, shrugging off everything I’d rather do if we stayed in the apartment. It was Valentine’s Day, for Christ’s sake. Didn’t couples thrive off of this shit?
Of course they did, and that was probably the reason Deacon asked me to do something in the first place. Mr. Relationship was probably going insane at the idea of being in this apartment while couples all over the city were falling deeper in love.
I swallowed my desire and returned his playful gaze. “What did you have in mind?”
About forty-five minutes later, I stood in the lobby of a place I hadn’t visited since high school.
“Are you sure you want to spend your evening here ?” I watched a couple drag their two children out to the parking lot. The toddlers kicked and screamed while Mom and Dad looked fed up . It was clear that neither of them would be getting laid tonight .
It was incredible how growing up sounded fun one moment and looked miserable the next.
Deacon handed me a pair of bright orange socks. “What were you expecting, Brooks? Fine dining and a rose petal bath?”
I considered the thought as he pulled me to a small hallway. He wore his cheesy ass smile the entire time we took off our shoes, putting on socks that I’d be tossing in the trash immediately after we left.
“Maybe not a rose petal bath, but we could’ve done pizza and a movie?”
“We always do pizza and movies.” He rested his elbows on his knees, eyeing me impatiently. “Ready?”
I sighed and accepted my fate. “Let’s do this.”
Deacon grabbed my hand, and we walked to the end of the facility where there were fewer kids and an open floor of trampolines. As soon as his foot hit the tarp lining, Deacon took off. He jumped forward, landing on his hands and prompting his body into a flip. My mouth dropped, and I cackled at his expectations for this trip. While Deacon was a closet gymnast, I only hoped I didn’t fall on my face in front of the father-daughter duo in the corner.
“Jump to me!” Deacon yelled from four trampolines away. He kept a steady hop as he waited, and I adored the boyish grin plastered on his face. I leaped forward and followed the momentum, gaining more speed the closer I got to Deacon.
“Stop me, stop me, stop me!” I crashed into his chest, and when we fell onto the trampoline, we burst into hysterics.
“Damn, Lyla!” He held his hand to his chest, catching his breath. “Have you never been on a trampoline? ”
“I’m sorry,” I said between breaths. “Did I not disclose that information before you told me we were going to a trampoline park ?”
“Well, stand up.” He swatted my thigh and hopped back on his feet. I was exhausted just watching him. He bounced over to a basketball hoop and waved me over.
“Is this the kind of Valentine’s Day celebration you’d spring on Cassie?” Her name left an unwanted taste in my mouth, but judging from movies and TV shows, she probably didn’t like my name either. “What kinds of things did you guys do for special occasions?”
“I could never bring Cass here,” Deacon said, recalling a giddy memory. He tossed me a ball, and when I took a shot to distract myself, he shook his head like a disappointed coach. “The one place you can do a dunk, and you toss a crappy free throw?”
“What!” I exclaimed. “So I’m not good at basketball or balancing on a trampoline. Any other things you want to rub in my face?”
Deacon bit his bottom lip as a flicker of temptation ignited in his brown eyes. Blood rushed to my cheeks.
“Deacon Scott,” I reprimanded him proudly. “You’ve got a dirtier mind than people think.”
He shrugged. “Maybe.”
“So why wouldn’t you bring her here?” I prompted, keeping us out of dangerous territory. “Orange socks aren’t her thing?”
“Just not her scene. She loved to go out to dinner and do the Instagram-worthy desserts.” He fidgeted with the ball in his hand. “I never realized how much effort she put into making us look like an amazing couple to other people. It’s like if she could keep that image going, she could pretend she still wanted to be with me.”
“What do you think you’ll do differently?” I snatched the ball from his hand, and when he tried to swat it back, I spun around and launched it toward the hoop.
The ball bounced off the rim, and Deacon caught it. “I spent so much time making sure our future was okay. I think I lost sight of what was happening in front of me. I was missing out because I was protecting time I thought we had together.”
I offered him a sympathetic grin. “You could still have that time, Deacon.”
“I know.” He returned the gesture right before he took three giant leaps and performed an award-winning dunk.
I cheered like a proud girlfriend and tried not to act completely surprised at the heavily supported shot. I could do the same thing with the right amount of bounce, and when Deacon offered me the ball, I mimicked his footwork.
When Deacon lept for a dunk shot, he flew effortlessly through the air and did a spin trick on his way down. I was on my fourth attempt and could only conquer two ways of jumping—too soon or too late.
“Fuck it.” I laughed as I came down from my fifth shot. I was breathless and sweaty and growing more pissed off by the second. “I give up.”
“I’ll help you.” Deacon stood under the hoop and laced his hands in front of the impressive bulge in his shorts. “Run up and use my hand as a boost.”
The thought of running toward Deacon again and falling on my face terrified me. I might not have a hot Valentine’s Day date to attend, but I didn’t feel like having a tarp burn on my forehead .
His shoulders pulled against his T-shirt, and I remembered what it was like to have him hovered over me. Why the fuck didn’t I buy him looser T-shirts for Christmas? What a missed opportunity.
I checked to ensure I wasn’t drooling over how good his arms looked. “I don’t want you to drop me,” I protested lamely.
“I’m not going to drop you. Come on.” When I shook my head, Deacon narrowed his gaze and straightened up. “I promise I’ve got you.”
I took a deep breath, and before I could talk myself out of it, I ran at him. I felt my foot land on his hands, and he pushed up, giving me the perfect lift for my dunk.
He spun me around in a hug, his cheers bouncing off the walls of the open area. We were officially the last two people left among the trampolines.
His hands slid down my sides as heat radiated through my shirt. His thumbs grazed under my breasts, and for a glimmer of a second, I didn’t want him to stop. A woman gets a handful of horny hall passes, and when I slept with Deacon, I robbed myself of half the show. I was so eager to have him inside me I didn’t even take my shirt off.
I ran my hands down his back and ignored the slight part of his lips. We were off-screen, and everything I wanted to do with him on this trampoline involved behind-the-scenes footage. I loved being close to him. The innocent touches drove me crazy, but the idea that I’d never be wrapped up in Deacon again filled me with regret.
Sex had never been a doorway to developing feelings for someone. I disassociated from that a long time ago. It was never something I dragged out when I just wanted the end result. With Deacon, I wanted . . . more . I wasn’t sure what that was yet, and I was afraid I lost my only chance to try and figure it out. This had to be some Valentine’s Day bullshit. I didn’t habitually spend the red-hearted holiday doing a deep dive into my emotions.
I swallowed all of the questions I wanted to ask him because I wasn’t sure if I wanted to hear his answers. “Ready to get going?”
His hands fell to his sides, and he let out a slow breath. “Yeah.”
It was cold on the walk back to Deacon’s car. February in Ohio wasn’t the friendliest, and the layer of sweat I was wearing wasn’t helping the cause. I slid into the passenger seat, and Deacon cranked the heat. I held my hands in front of the fan, and an aching laugh escaped me as my body shook against the cold.
“Has it always been hard?” Deacon asked through chattering teeth. “Letting someone take care of you?”
“Take care of me? There’s no reason to.” His question surprised me, but my answer surprised him more. I rubbed my hands together and smiled. “Why, as my fake boyfriend, do you want to?”
He stared at me, wearing the same electrified expression from the night I couldn’t get out of my head. “I do want to, Brooks,” he admitted softly. “But there’s nothing fake about that.”