“Deacon,” I say, nearly pleading.
“No,” Evan says. “You made it clearI’mthe asshole. I’m still not sure what the fuck I did besides talk toyourfriends atyourparty, or fuck my boss before you met him, but if it was unforgivable, I guess there’s not much else I can add.”
“You know what? Fuck this.” Deacon throws a fork in the sink and storms out of the room. My heart thuds as I watch him go, and then I turn slowly back to Evan.
“What the fuck?” I ask him.
He looks bewildered, but his question is direct. “Do you really think we can work like this?”
“I have no idea what’s going on,” I admit.
“I’m not sure how to explain it.” He gestures at the hallway where Deacon disappeared. “He’s been frustrated with me since he got home.”
“Why?”
“I think he thinks I’m trying to take you away from him.”
I glance over my shoulder like Deacon might be there to confirm or deny this. He’s not. “Did you give him a reason to think that?”
Evan throws up his hands. “You tell me. You’ve been with me whenever I’m not with him. All I can tell you is I’m trying to figure out where I fit in. That’s all I can do.”
That tracks, but it doesn’t explain Deacon’s outburst.
“Did you say something?” Evan asks. “To make him think you want us to work this out between ourselves?”
“Of course not.”
“And if we can’t?” he asks. “Are you going to pick one of us?”
“I think everybody just needs a minute to cool off.”
“Answer the question, Isaac.”
“If I say I don’t want to pick, does that makemethe asshole?”
“No, but I think it’s a copout,” Evan says.
I fold my arms and lean a hip against the island. “How’s that?”
“It puts all the pressure on me and Deacon. How’s that fair?”
“What pressure? You had one fight.”
“Yeah, a fight about whether we’re capable of sharing the guy we care about with someone else. A fight about whether he and I evenworktogether.”
“Evan, Jesus Christ.”
“Just because you don’t see it that way doesn’t mean we don’t. I know he does. He wasn’t out here yelling atyou, was he?”
“Everything was fine.” I’m still reeling from how fast we’re moving downhill.
“Apparently not. I mean—it’s all great when everyone’s hard and someone’s getting off, but give us an hour where we actually have to deal with each other with our clothes on, and it all falls apart? That’s not healthy, Isaac.”
It says something shameful about me that my immediate instinct is to saythen let’s get naked and work it out,but I’m able to keep that thought inside.
“What are you upset about?” I ask. “Specifically. Because if we need to communicate, let’s fucking do it.”
“Specifically, he told me I keep putting myself in the middle.”
