He gives me a subtle nod before introducing everyone and taking a seat. That’s pretty much all he says the entire meeting, letting his team have the floor to tell me what they’re working on, and—like I’ve been asking everyone—what they want to work on next.
This is the most vocal group I’ve met with so far. They’re brimming with ideas, and each one is better than the next. Everyone’s working on an app, it seems. They chatter excitedly for nearly an hour before I give them all my blessing and thank them for taking the time to come in. As they’re leaving, and as I hoped, Deacon lingers.
I give him some cover by asking for a moment to talk alone.
I’m not planning to seduce him. I wouldn’t feel right about it. Even when things started between me and Evan,hemade the first move. Granted, not one word out of my mouth was trying to discourage him, but we were alone in the building, it was nearing midnight, and inhibitions were low.
“Quite the crew,” I say as Deacon moves into a seat closer to my desk.
“Thanks for hearing them out. They have a lot to get off their chests.”
I grin.
And then he hits me with, “Did you know Evan is my roommate?”
My eyes pop open wide, and I go still, momentarily stunned. “Um. I didn’t.”
“He is.” He gestures toward the door where Evan’s empty desk sits outside. “I take it he didn’t come in today.”
My stomach turns unpleasantly. Something’s happened. I’ve fucked up. I need to apologize, I know this, but I don’t know where to begin. Images and flashes of Evan grinding on my lap yesterday in this very chair fill my brain. They’re intermingled with the muscle memory of the steady pulse of Deacon’s cock inside me the night before. I rub a hand down the side of my face and let out a breath. “You and he had dinner last night.”
Deacon nods.
“He told me he was afraid his roommate was going to ask him to move out.”
That gets a deep scowl. “I would never do that. He’s a great roommate.”
I take a long breath afraid of what’s coming. “What was dinner about?”
“I told him I was seeing you. Just in case I ever wanted to have you over—if things kept going the way they’ve been—I wanted him to have a head’s up.”
“And?” I ask.
“He said I should give you a head’s up, too. I didn’t disagree.”
I’m willing to be very honest here. I only need to know where I should start. “How much did he tell you?”
“He told me you had sex yesterday. And that was a regular thing you guys do.”
Deacon’s delivery is somewhat flat. His expression stoic. I can’t tell if I’m supposed to apologize or explain. Or both.
“I wasn’t trying to hide anything from you,” I say. “If I’d known you lived together, I would have said something.”
He takes that in. “I figured.”
My hand moves from my jaw to rest on my heart. “He knows I’m dating,” I say uselessly. “What happens here is just sort of…”
I don’t know how to describe it. Fun isn’t the word. It hasn’t been fun for me in a long time. Casual also doesn’t do my own feelings justice. “A habit,” I wind up saying. It’s true, but not the whole truth.
“He was upset when I told him I liked you.”
“And you?” I ask. “Are you upset?”
Deacon frowns. “About you having sex with him?”
“Yeah.”
“No,” he says. “This is new, and we both had lives before we met. We never talked about being exclusive.”
