“Me too.”
Great. Now I get to picture Deacon pulling his cock out of his pants and rubbing one out. I sneak a glance at him but look away when his gaze slides up my body to meet mine. This reminds me too much of the way things started with Hunter. We were playing a video game, too. It wasn’t this explicit, and we were sitting closer together, but the tension in the air was about this thick.
“I get that you don’t want me to touch you, but for the record, it’s not easy,” Deacon says.
I flush harder than I’ve ever flushed in my life. “You have a boyfriend.”
“Then why do I want you so bad?”
“Deacon, please don’t.”
“I won’t. But I actually do know why I want you, and it’s not anything to do with how big those cartoon girl’s tits are.”
“You don’t have to tell me.”
But of course, this is Deacon, and if he wants to do something, he’s going to do it. “I think this is in another note, but I really like the way you get me. Isaac gets me too—like he knows what I need, but I feel like I’ve known you my whole life. Like I could say the most random thing ever and you’d be like—yeah. Same. I also like that you let me help with your program and you aren’t kicking me out. I’m gonna offer to drive you to your mom’s tomorrow, you know?”
“I already have a flight.”
“Then I might insist.”
“Why?”
“Because I miss you, and I like being around you again. Also, I’m gonna try to convince you to have dinner with me and Isaac before you come back to LA.”
I groan. “Oh, God, please don’t do that.”
“You only don’t want me to do that because you know you’ll say yes, and you’ll start to question everything, but that’s okay. If you don’t ask the questions, how can you get the answers you need?”
My lips are pursed tight in an effort not to freak out or break down. I’m so tired. It hits me how exhausted I am, not just from being woken up in the middle of the night but from trying to start a new life while fighting all the feelings I tried to leave behind.
“See? I get you, too. Let me drive you to your mom’s,” he says softly.
The sex scene is over, and we’re good to start playing the game again, but I’m genuinely on the verge of tears.
“Give me your hand,” he says.
The command in his tone is painfully familiar, and it’s something my body can’t help but respond to. I reach out and place my hand in his, knowing he won’t try anything. Hesqueezes tight. “I don’t think you belong here, Evan,” he says quietly.
Those are the words that break the dam.
46
ISAAC
Jake is slumped over his closed laptop when I walk into his room a few minutes after his online therapy session should have ended.
It’s obviously over. When I talked to the therapist before I hired him, he mentioned it would be normal for things to get worse before they got better, but it’s been three weeks, and Jake has never looked more unhappy. Which I could maybe tolerate if I weren’t taking him back to his fraternity today.
“I’m fine,” he says without bothering to look at me.
“You can stay, you know?”
“I need to get back to my life.”
“Are you sure you’re ready to move back into the house, though? Because if you’d rather live alone—or with a roommate?—”
“That’s where my friends are.”
