My entire life now revolves around Isaac, and so the question is hard for me to answer. Eventually I give Evan the same answer I gave my boyfriend. “I miss my friend.”
He exhales loudly. “I miss you, too. Fuck. Okay. Come on, let’s go eat.”
44
DEACON
I’ve never been to Los Angeles before, but this sidewalk cafe in Hollywood is more or less exactly what I pictured. It’s early, and a holiday weekend but everyone is still getting a workout in. They’re all good looking. Even the women. And everyone wants to pet the dog. Finally, Evan makes Apollo move to the other side of the table so he’s squeezed between the building and our chairs, making him less noticeable.
We both order pancakes. Mine are plain. Evan’s are blueberry. The cold brew I got is excellent, and with the first couple of sips, I feel how much caffeine is in it. If I don’t have to drive home today, I’ll be able to take an amazing nap later, but for now, I’m hoping it’ll clear my head enough to get my mouth working.
The problem, other than my poor communication skills, is how good Evan looks. The sunlight in his hair turns it the prettiest shade of caramel. His eyes are that blazing, sparkling blue like some European sea on a perfect day, and it’s fucking with me. Honestly, I’m not sure I’ve ever found himthisattractive, and he’s not even trying. I don’t get why I’m noticing it so much because I’m borderline obsessed with the way Isaaclooks and generally everything about him, so the fact that there’s even room in my head for me to be looking at Evan like this takes me right back to the beginning of what started this whole mess.
I wanted them both, too. I wasn’t just going with the flow or being a good sport. I was into it. I just needed to understand it—maybe the same way Evan did—but I lost my patience. “So you like it here?”
“I’m from here,” he says. “Not Hollywood, but around here. Do you like the beach?”
I grimace. “Not really. The sand.”
“Sand is a pain in the ass. I’ve taken more showers with the dog in the last month than I did the whole time I lived in San Francisco.”
I laugh. “I didn’t know you did that.”
“It’s not like I can wash him in the sink.”
“He does always smell good.”
“Not always,” Evan argues.
“Better than most dogs.”
“How many dogs are you smelling?”
I laugh again. “Just Manon and Heather, but I haven’t seen them in a while.”
Deftly avoiding the topic of Millie and Manon, Evan asks, “How are Mal and Ryan? They haven’t killed each other yet?”
I shrug. “Like I said, after Jake got hurt, I haven’t had a chance to go out much.”
“Jake who?” Evan asks.
“Isaac’s brother.”
Recognition flickers on his face, then something more like concern. “He got hurt?”
Oh shit. Jake’s condition has become such a part of my life that I totally forgot it happened the night Evan and I fought, and he left.
“He’s doing a lot better.” I don’t want him to think I’m trying to make him feel bad. He had every right to leave, especially that particular night.
“But what happened?”
“He got into a fight at his fraternity house.”
Evan’s face loses some color even as the sun creeps higher in the sky. “Is Isaac okay?”
I nod.
He stares at me for a long time. I’m sure he’s got a million questions. A million thoughts. Visuals even. I wish I could think of something to say that could disrupt whatever he might be picturing and make sure I haven’t totally fucked this up over pancakes.
