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I hadn’t forgotten how heavily Deacon leaned into the flirting a few days ago. If I accepted his offer, would I be encouraging more of the same? And was it a big deal if I did? I was wild and free and having one-night stands. Sure, they meant more to me than they should, and I was going to deal with that. This was me loosening up.
“Just this once.” I kept my tone light and teasing.
Deacon and I headed across the street, grabbed our drinks, and took a spot in the back of the cafe, away from late morning chatter and early lunch stragglers.
He scooted his chair closer, so his knee touched mine when he leaned in. “Million-dollar question, how did you get into something like mural painting?”
It wasn’t a big grand story, but it was something only and Tanner and Brooke knew, because most people never asked. “I went through a wild patch when I was younger. I was pissed off that I got shit for liking guys, but also for still liking girls. Like both sides hated me. So I expressed myself through painting.”
I’d much rather be telling Daria this story. The thought surprised me. But I’d finish sharing with Deacon since I’d already started.
“I get that.” Deacon sounded sincere and sympathetic. “I’m sorry you had to deal with it. Butmurals. Why so big?”
This was the part of the story I kept to myself. “I was a tagger. Graffiti artist. I left my signature everywhere, in the form of pictures. If the world didn’t want to see me, I was going to force them to.”
“Wow.” Deacon radiated awe.
I shook my head. “It’s not that impressive. The murals were a way to cover up the vandalism.”
Deacon chuckled. “Talented. Rebellious. Contentious. Sexy.” He covered my hand and his gaze drifted toward my crotch. “You really are the full package.”
And there was the not-subtle-at-all flirting again. I couldn’t do this. I wanted Tanner and Daria. I wanted more and more of the last two nights. Hooking up with someone else would either add another name to theI can’t control my crusheslist, or more likely be a lie to myself and Deacon. “Listen, you’re a great guy…”
“Whoa.” Deacon pulled his hand away. “I know that tone. Are you about to friendzone me before we even become friends?”
I winced. “I’m about to be honest with you. I think we could be friends, but you’re not going to get more from me.”
“Huh.” Deacon scooted his seat back to where it had been, but he looked thoughtful rather than upset. “Yeah. Okay.”
That was disturbingly easy. “Just like that?”
“I dunno.” He shrugged. “I like the honesty. It’s sexy.” He frowned. “And friendly. And now I know, so I won’t push myself on you, and you don’t have to feel weird around me.”
Oh. Weird, but nice.
“So now what?” Deacon asked.
“Well, you can cut me a check and pretend we never met, or I can stay and we can finish our coffee.” Would I be having a conversation like this with Daria in a few days? With Tanner?It was amazing sex, but let’s just go back to what we were.
As easy as the conversation went with Deacon, the idea of saying something like that Tanner or Daria soured in my stomach.
“Let’s stay.” Deacon leaned back in his seat. “You can ask me the one thing you’ve been dying to since you showed up that first day.”
There was a question. “You get this one a lot?”
“Only from the perceptive people.”
“All right, the acronym for your shop…”
Deacon laughed. “Triple D. Yeah, it’s on purpose, and while I put a lot of thought into it, it’s not one of my finer decisions.”
“Because you’re all about the D?” I sipped my coffee. This was simple. Fun. No pressure. I liked it.
“Nah,” Deacon said. “I mean, yes, but also, like you, I’m more into thewhy limit myselfidea. I’ll take a pair of nice double D’s, or a D, whatever.”
“I…” Words failed me.
Deacon tilted his head and studied me. “I think you’re blushing.”
