Page 33 of The Play

Deacon nodded. “Don’t tell me you wanna keep dancing with the husbands over there.” Beck had his hands all over Micah, Micah’s head bent down low as he murmured something in his ear.

Yeah. Nobody wanted to interfere with that.

Nate followed his gaze and grinned. “Nope, no sir, I do not.”

“There you go. You got me, now.”

“Do I?” Nate gazed over at him like he was a cross between Superman and JJ Watt.

“Well, yeah. Us third wheels have to stick together,” Deacon said, nudging him with an elbow. They melted deeper into the crowd, currently writhing to one of Biggie’s hits.

They’d just found a groove, Deacon making sure he kept a decent amount of distance between them—after all, he didn’t want to lead the guy on. He liked Nate, and he wanted to keep him as a friend—when they were joined by Landry and Riley.

Nate took the opportunity to slide a little closer. Had he been bumped? Had he done it on purpose? But then they were hip-to-hip, and Nate was gazing at him shyly, like he was the greatest thing in the whole freaking world.

Deacon wasn’t always a good man. A good man wouldn’t take advantage of such a nice young kid like this. But it felt undeniably sweet after the cold shoulder Grant had given him last night, after they’d almost kissed.

He hadn’t blamed Grant for leaving the way he did, after. He’d been smarter and more restrained than Deacon himself. He’d made the hard choice that Deacon hadn’t been able to.

But Deacon could acknowledge now that yes, it had stung.

Maybe that sting went both ways, and it had frozen Grant too.

Then Carter arrived.

“Oh my God,” he exclaimed, even more loudly than before. “He’s here. He came.”

Deacon felt his stomach drop out, right to his feet.

There was only one person he could be talking about.

Maybe he’s here to apologize . . .

But Deacon cut that thought off hard and fast. An apology wouldn’t change a thing.

Deacon tucked a hand around Nate’s waist. Leaned in.

“Did you hear that?” Nate’s eyes were shining. “Mr. G is here!”

Like he’d needed any more bucketfuls of cold water dumped on his head.

“Yeah, I heard.”

“He’s such a good owner,” Nate said. “Wasn’t sure I’d be happy I was picked up by the Condors, but man, it’s been great. He’s great. And you? God, Deac, you are the best.”

Okay, even Deacon could acknowledge that glow in Nate’s eyes was not just hero worship. He really should extricate himself.

“I worshipped you as a kid,” Nate said.

Ouch. Deacon hid his wince. He wasn’t that old, was he?

But Nate continued, because apparently Deacon was better at hiding the alarm in his expression than he’d assumed. “Then it turns out you’re even cooler than I ever imagined. Helpin’ me with my reps, getting me trained up. And now, here . . .” Nate’s expression morphed and suddenly it was no longer quite as shy. He was gaining confidence. “You’re here with me.”

Jesus.

Deacon needed to get out of here now.

Even if getting out of here meant coming face-to-face with Grant before he was quite ready to deal with him again.

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