“Is it because I didn’t cook last week?” he asks.
“I promise it’s not that deep, Deacon. He’s just being nice. You were in the kitchen all day Saturday. And yesterday, too.”
“Oh.”
“You all right?” I ask.
He gives me a few long seconds of eye contact, and I feel it in my core. All the same nervous excitement I used to get whenever he paid attention to me flutters back into existence along with the ache of it not being enough.
“Yeah,” he says. “I’m okay. Sorry, I just always feel like I’m doing something wrong.”
What?“You aren’t,” I tell him.
“With you especially.”
Where the fuck is this coming from? I glance up at Millie’s closed door, feeling a strong need to get behind my own. “We’re gonna talk about this on the stairs?”
He looks confused again, so I change the subject. “Wanna go make sure Isaac isn’t messing up your kitchen?”
“I’m not all that attached to the kitchen.” He leans back against the wall, both feet crossed on a stair. “You know I spent most of my session with my therapist on Friday talking about you. And with Bailey, too.”
Apollo doesn’t know what to do. He’s poised to climb, looking back at me likewhat the fuck? You coming?I have to say I’m on the same page with him. I don’t know what to do, either. This feels like being hit with a frying pan.
“Why?” I ask.
“Because I feel like you’re still not sure about this.”
I glance around again to make sure we’re alone. This is hella awkward. “Did I do something wrong?” My mind is flipping through all the events of the last few days, the last week, and all I can remember is giving this unconventional situation my best efforts, both in bed and out of it. Mostly in it, I guess.
“Why’d you ask if he and I had sex at the party? Were you jealous?”
I take a deep breath and try not to let his question bother me so much, but any way I look at it, it hurts.
Because I was jealous. “I’mtrying,Deacon.” This is going on my gravestone, I swear.Here lies Evan Lockwood. He tried.
“I’m trying, too, but I feel like you’re not gonna give me the chance I need.”
I expect him to say more, but when he doesn’t, I have to ask. “Time you need to what?”
“The timeweneed,” he says.
I’m so confused. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Really?”
I shrug. “Where am I gonna go?”LA?Fuck. Why was that first thing that popped into my head? Why is my brain so eager to consider replacing one complicated situation with another? It was just a job offer. I already have a job.
“So youdowant this to work?” Deacon asks. “Or you feel like you don’t get a say?”
Wow, I don’t like that question. If this is what’s always gonna happen when someone else decides to cook, we might need to set some ground rules. “I want it to work. Can we go up, please? I don’t want to see Millie.”
Deacon sighs. “Fine.”
Isaac smiles at me when I come in. I don’t return it, but it doesn’t really matter because Deacon’s right behind me, and it’s his turn to get our boss’s smiles and attention anyway.
Without taking him off his leash, I walk with Apollo into my bedroom, closing the door behind us. This situation is so fucking stupid. I’ve never been one to brag about my stellar judgment, but this is ridiculous. First I seduce my boss, then I turn that into something I do on a regular basis, and then I decide it’ll be no big deal to share him with my roommate.
While they’ve both clearly said they want this three-way relationship, it can’t always be about sex. At some point we’ll need to have a conversation about how all this is actually going to work. What if—when we all decide to take a step back and look at the complete picture, a weak link is revealed?
