Page 90 of The Play

That’s ’cause there’s only one man you wanted.

And now you’ve got him.

Deacon tried to school his expression into something less joyful and much sterner.

“Carter,” he warned.

“I’m just saying,” Carter argued. “It’s romantic as fuck. I mean, not as romantic as a slow dance to Marky Mark, but it is romantic.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” Deacon said dryly.

“You really trying to say nothing happened after you took care of business that way? Micah told me he took you to Mr. G’s car. That he insisted you be taken to it. Like he was gonna . . .” Beck paused and grinned. “Take good care of you, after.”

“He just wanted to talk to me,” Deacon said. Technically true.

“Disappointing. Talking. Ugh,” Carter said.

“Don’t tell me Ian doesn’t want you to talk to him,” Micah said, nudging Carter. “’Cause I know that he does. Ian’s the kind of guy who likes the words, sometimes. Not just a healthy helping of dick.”

“Maybe,” Carter said, grinning.

“Practice,” Deacon reminded them, as Riley and Landry emerged from the tunnel onto the practice field. “That’s why we’re here, okay? Not to gossip.”

Beck trailed after Deacon as he headed over to the bench to grab one of his stretching bands. “You get it, right? They just wanna know if it finally happened,” Beck said.

Deacon shot him a glare.

“What?” Beck said, throwing up his hands. “They do.”

“And you’re here in a completely innocent capacity, not interested at all in what happened last night.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m an uninterested party,” Beck said. “But I know Jem’s not here. And I know you haven’t been telling him much.”

“He text you that?”

“Yep,” Beck said with a quick nod. “Complained about it, too.”

“He’s just . . .finally happy, I think? After everything. I don’t want to derail that.”

“I get it, but also, Jem’s your person to talk to. So if you’re not talking to him, who’re you talking to?”

Deacon rolled his eyes as he stretched. “Don’t tell me you’re volunteering yourself.”

Except that Beck would be a good person to talk to. He’d keep his mouth shut. Okay, he’d almost certainly tell Micah everything Deacon said, but he could trust the two of them would stay a closed circuit. They’d both learned the hard way how much it hurt when people shoved their noses into personal business.

“You know I am,” Beck said quietly.

Deacon was silent for a long moment. You already know what you’re gonna do. You know it, so just do it.

“Yeah,” Deacon said shortly.

Beck didn’t react and then, all of a sudden, looked floored. “What, yeah? Are you really saying what I think you are?”

“I said it, didn’t I?” Deacon said.

“Wow, okay. Yes. You did.” Beck still looked shocked.

“Were you expecting balloons and confetti and heart eyes or something?” Deacon wondered. Remembered, of course, because how could he forget, when Beck and Micah had come back from Vegas and everyone in a hundred-mile radius could tell they’d finally done something about all the tension surrounding them.

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