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I stare at her until she looks up, then smile around a mouthful of burger.
“So, Deaton, where did you sleep last night?”
My sister slaps her forehead, and the others groan. But Payton?
Payton shakes her head, a small smile she tries to hide around her fork.
Satisfaction flickers through me, and I settle into my seat.
Mission accomplished.
Payton
Everyone is chattingamong themselves as we follow the path of the sand closer to the pier. Mason and Lolli had been dying to go on that walk he talked about all day and finally got it started. Not sure why he’s so excited, but maybe he just really wants ice cream like Lolli does. We’ve been walking for about ten minutes now, and she’s mentioned it twice already.
I look down at my hand, fingers laced with Deaton’s, a tension between us that’s not normally there. He keeps peeking at me from the corner of his eye, so I give in and face him with what I hope is a reassuring smile.
“I love you, you know,” I whisper, and Deaton looks over at me with kind eyes.
“I know.” He presses a kiss to my cheek, and we both face forward.
Things between us feel a little fractured, which scares me.
For years, he’s all I’ve had. My brother moved in with my dad, and my mom refused to allow me to see him, and then he didn’t fight to make sure he could. Then she ran off my friends and did her best to do the same with Deaton, so it’s been hard.
He’s been the only person I could lean on for so long, my best friend, and it feels unnatural for us to have colliding mindsets. I know it’s my fault and he’s just worried. I also know the longer I avoid the conversation he’s dying to have, the worse it will likely get, but I sort of dropped two giant bombs on him in one day, and I’m a little afraid to find out if I’m the one holding the detonator or if he is.
I need more time, and while I want to be pissed that he doesn’t want to waste another second, I can’t be. As much as I don’t want to talk, I get why he needs to, but unfortunately that doesn’t make it any easier. Even now, in a group of ten or so, he keeps trying to whisper things, and I keep jumping into other people’s conversations to avoid answering.
It’s obvious as hell, but he doesn’t call me out, just shifts his arm to rest on my shoulder instead.
The chatting of the others continues as we near the pier, the night growing louder around us when Mason jumps ahead, forcing us all to pause where we stand so he can have center stage.
“Ah shit.” Mason claps, a glint in his eyes when they find mine, and somehow, I know he’s coming for me before he even moves. He is facing us, the festivities a few yards behind him, and his attention moves on to Deaton. “All right, big D—that’s for Deaton, so don’t be getting a big head.”
Oh my god. A blush heats my cheeks instantly, and when Mason spots it, his grin grows, so I drop my gaze to the sand.
“Lemme steal your girl for a minute.” Mason motions to the band taking the small stage. “Promise I’ll give her back. I just want all the credit for this one.”
“Maybe you should back off a bit, Mason.” Chase frowns, the others shooting looks his way.
His best friend glares at him, but he dismisses him quickly when Deaton’s arm drops from my shoulder.
“Nah, man. It’s cool.” His soft hand folds into mine, and he pulls it to his lips, kissing my knuckles. “If she wants to, she can, obviously. But I appreciate you not being a dick for once.”
I smile at Deaton, knowing I’m the only person aware he’s so far from the possessive type it’s not even funny. He’s enjoying playing with Mason, and I think it’s adorable.
My brother’s little friend group is kind of intimidating, even for me. They’re all super close and from what I can tell, in each other’s business but not in a shitty, judgy way. In fact, it seems to be the opposite, but who knows? Maybe they all talk shit about each other behind one another’s backs.
Yeah, that seems more realistic…or maybe you’re just so used to shitty people you don’t know how to spot good ones?
I swallow, refocusing.
Deaton looks to me when I remain silent, so I plaster a fake smile on my face, hating how my thoughts and experiences always slacken the rope I’m forever climbing, putting even more distance between me and the rest of the world no matter how desperately I try to climb to its top.
Thankfully, Deaton is on the same side of that wall as I am. It’s why he and I work so well. It’s how we connected, alone and searching for a way out.
Pushing onto my toes, I kiss his cheek, muscles tensing as his fingers skim over the exposed skin of my stomach. Baby.
