“Yeah, I’m really confused right now—are you guys together or not?” Deacon asks, interrupting us.
We break apart and turn to Deacon, both of us speaking at the same time. “Yes.”
Apparently this answer doesn’t clear anything up for him, because his expression is still one of utter bafflement. “But…I just…”
“We’re still ironing out some wrinkles,” I explain.
Deacon’s brows creep up. “Because Jackson’s straight?”
I turn to Skyler, arching an eyebrow in question. “You didn’t tell him?”
He shrugs. “It’s your thing. You should decide who to tell and when.”
I offer a soft smile and lean over to kiss him on the cheek. Then I turn back to Deacon. “Because Jackson’s ace.”
He tosses his head back with a groan. “Ah, man. Now I owe Drew twenty bucks.”
My brows shoot up. “You guys were betting on my sexual orientation?”
“More like Drew had a theory and I was skeptical about it,” Deacon clarifies.
“Don’t worry, Deac, you won’t have to pay him a cent,” Skyler says, his features arranged in a determined look. “The bet became invalid the moment Drew influenced the outcome by suggesting to Jackson that he might be ace.”
I smile up at Skyler. “You’re such a good lawyer.”
Deacon nods, his brows arching slightly. “I have to say…I was always pretty impressed with your achievements, Sky. But knowing what I know now…”
Skyler lets out a dramatic sigh and slides a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I am pretty amazing. I think I want Zac Efron to play me in the movie.”
Deacon catches my eye, offering a look of wry exasperation, but I just smile and shrug. Did he really expect Skyler would stop being Skyler after one conversation?
“Fucking hell,fine,”Skyler grumbles, obviously catching Deacon’s frustration. “You get the next hour to ask anything you want and then that’s it, this shit is never coming up again—got it? So what else do you want to know?”
“Sky, we don’t have to,” I tell him, reaching my hand up to rub over his back.
He shakes his head. “Let’s just get it over with.”
I sigh and nod in agreement, retrieving my phone from my pocket and setting the time. Glancing up, I hit Deacon with a stern look. “One hour, then Skyler doesn’t ever have to talk about this again.”
Deacon eyes me curiously for a moment and I answer his unspoken question with a slight bob of my head. He can talk to me privately if he needs. Everything he thought he knew about his best friend is suddenly shifting, so I can understand if he might need some help getting his head around all this once this no holds barred hour is up.
Deacon lets out a fortifying breath and glances at Skyler. “I can ask anything?”
“You want to know how bad it was,” Skyler says flatly.
Deacon winces, biting his lip in hesitation. It’s obvious that’s exactly what he wanted to ask. “Only if you’re okay telling me,” he says. “Can we make that a rule? You said I can ask anything, but you don’t have to answer everything.”
Skyler shrugs. “Sure, whatever.” He pauses for a moment to take a sip of his drink, and I feel his free hand squeezing my thigh a little tighter. “Look, I already told you before it wasn’tthatbad. Not as bad as you might be imagining, at least—there wasn’t any physical or sexual abuse—”
“Or any food,” I cut in, my jaw tight with anger at the incredibly low bar Skyler’s using to define his home life as “not that bad.”
He slides me a plaintive glance. “There was food.”
“Not every day,” I counter. “Not every meal.”
“More than a lot of people,” Skyler reasons, making my frustration grow.
Deacon arches an eyebrow in obvious skepticism. “Potato peelings?”
