Page 44 of Without You

I’m enjoying just the idea of someone looking at me like that.

I’m regretfully enjoying the idea ofDeaconlooking at me like that.

When his gaze reaches my face, his demeanor shifts. I watch his Adam’s apple bob, and his jaw tighten. He straightens his back and rubs his hands up and down his thighs, all while still looking at me.

The uncertainty between us is obvious, and I’m impressed when he doesn’t turn and hide from it. It pushes me to take the last few steps. Slow and steady, I walk toward him, knowing we’re both as unsure as one another. Knowing there’s no way I’m going to be the one to bail. I said we could hang out. And that’s what we’ll do.

I take my seat on the wooden stool beside Deacon, conscious of the way his eyes never leave mine. My mouth opens to say hello, but I’m interrupted by the bartender.

“Julian. I didn’t know you were coming in,” Ray, one of the guys I work with says. “I didn’t realize you were around this weekend. It’s nice to see you, man.”

“Hey Ray, how are you?”

I don’t wait for his answer, choosing to turn and face Deacon instead.

“Hey,” I greet, nothing but apprehension in my voice. “I see you got a head start.”

He responds with a slight nod and brings the bottle of beer to his mouth. I get lost in the rise and fall of his Adam’s apple as he swallows the drink; mesmerized by the veins that protrude from his neck, and the cut of his sharp jawline.

“I’m good, man,” Ray answers, sliding a shot glass in front of me and reminding me of his presence. Dragging my eyes away from Deacon, I watch Ray generously fill the glass up with tequila, and hand it to me. “You need to catch up.”

My eyes dart between him and Deacon. “How many have you had?”

“It’s been a long day,” he answers in defense.

Not one to disclose too much of my personal information at work, I discreetly respond. “I know, I was there.”

Lifting the glass rim to my lips, I throw down the gold-colored liquid and feel it burn the whole way down my esophagus. I hand it back to Ray for a refill. “Thanks.”

“Would you like a drink?” He’s looking at Deacon and he subtly tilts his head, and that’s when I realize he wants an introduction.

“Oh,” I straighten my back and point between the two of them. “Ray, this is Rhett’s brother.”

Surprising me, Deacon holds out his hand. “Deacon.”

Ray takes it and eagerly shakes it, a smile spreading across his face. “Nice to officially meet you.”

I want to roll my eyes at the ridiculousness. Annoyed when the contact lingers a little too long, I rudely blurt out. “Unless I missed something, he isn’t gay, Ray.”

Ray’s face turns a ridiculous shade of red, and I momentarily feel guilty.

“Don’t worry, Ray.” Deacon continues to hold on to his hand, but his eyes are deadlocked on mine. “Julian’s just mad he can’t get all of this.”

“How much have you had to drink?” I scold. And just for good measure, I add, “Even if you did bat for my team, I still wouldn’t be interested.”

“I guess one brother was enough,” he bites.

“Fuck you, Deacon. What’s your problem?”

Unperturbed, he turns his attention back to Ray. “Can you line us up with more tequila shots? Three each sounds good right about now.”

Seemingly happy to walk away from our verbal altercation, he rushes off quicker than lightning.

It’s obvious everything we’re feeling, or telling ourselves we’renotfeeling, is rising to the surface. Busting to come out, desperate to explode.

Ray comes back into view, lining up the shot glasses and this time placing a small plate filled with slices of lemon and two salt shakers in front of us. I’m assuming the extra effort is for Deacon.

He free pours the tequila, letting the pungent smelling alcohol overflow and drip down onto the wooden bar top.

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