One of the best ways to talk to Deacon, I’ve discovered, isn’t face to face. It’s something more like this. His words are flowing in a mild, unbroken way. They don’t lack emotion entirely, but they’re not overburdened with it, either.
I wonder if this is what it’s like talking to him in the dark. We never really did that.
He keeps talking. “No one like you has ever liked me before.”
“Like me how?”
“This isn’t gonna sound right, but like sweet and pure.”
I snort.
Isaac grins, but he also shrugs like he gets what Deacon means.
“I don’t mean sexually,” Deacon goes on. “Well, I sort of mean sexually, but mostly I mean you’re not jaded, or on drugs, or super damaged.”
“I’m just regular damaged?” I ask.
He huffs. “Yeah. You’re like—boyfriend material.”
My chest flutters at those words, but the way he’s using them is suspect. “Does that mean you thought I was boring?”
“Notboring, but when you’re used to being treated like a piece of meat—hook up material—it was a little jarring to findsomeone who was interested in getting to know me. Who wants to try and understand me.”
“I wanted to fuck you, too. It wasn’tallinnocent.”’
He and Isaac laugh softly. “But I feel like I have to earn that,” Deacon says.
“That makes me sound like I’m trying to get you to perform for rewards.”
“No, that’s not what I mean. Let me try again. I mean like at any point, I can lose privileges based on something other than performance.”
“Still sounds bad,” I say.
“I like it, though, so whatever version of that you can think of as a turn on, think of it like that.”
“Being a demanding bitch is a turn on?”
“Having high expectations is.”
“They’re notthathigh,” I argue.
“What if we just call it having standards?” Isaac offers.
“It’s true,” I sigh. “I do have standards.”
Deacon sighs. “Okay, so we agree on something.”
“Deacon, we agree on a lot of things.”
When I look at him, he’s got a serious look on his face where I was expecting a smile. “I want to meet all your standards,” he says.
It’s not the most romantic set of words I’ve ever heard, but damn. My heart isthudding. “Fuck my standards. All they do is keep me from appreciating what I have.”
“Do you thinkI’mboyfriend material?” he asks.
“God, yes.”
Beneath my ass, I feel his cock twitch.Damn.
