Page 47 of Without You

I can do this. I can be out in public and enjoy myself.

I. Can. Do. This.

When I step out of the bathroom, I can see that Ray and Deacon are shooting the shit, and six full shot glasses are lined up right where I’d be sitting.

I watch Ray lean embarrassingly close to Deacon, and I hate it. I hate the sight of it, I hate that Deacon doesn’t move back, and I hate that I hate it.

Every single part of me wants to walk out the door. I want to put myself out of this misery and stay indoors till Deacon goes back to Seattle; I want to slide back into my carefully constructed bubble where I didn’t feel any of this stuff—where I didn’t feel anything.

Deacon turns his head to face me, effectively ending his conversation with Ray. His face lights up, a soft, alluring smile turning up the corners of his lips. It’s like he’s actually happy to see me.

I’ve known him for the biggest part of my life and he’s never looked at me like that. If he had, I feel like I’d remember it.

Reaching the bar, I steadily slide onto my stool that feels significantly closer to Deacon’s. “What are you two gossiping about?” I ask casually.

“Nothing,” Deacon says a little too quickly. “It’s my turn to go to the little boys’ room. When I come back, we’ll do those shots.”

With a dry mouth, all I can do is nod and watch him walk away.

“I bet you there’s nothing little about him.”

“Ray,” I scold.

He hands me a cold bottle of water. “What? Like you weren’t thinking the same thing?”

“He’s my boyfriend’s brother,” I say, hoping the words are self-explanatory. “And how many times do I have to tell you he’s not gay?”

“Listen.” Ray leans in closer to me. “I know we don’t know each other really well. You keep to yourself and we all try to give you your space, but you don’t have a boyfriend anymore.”

I furrow my brows at him. “How can you say that to me?”

“Because I’m not your friend. You don’t want friends. So, what does it matter if I hurt your feelings? You barely talk to me anyway.” He pulls a towel out of his back pocket and starts wiping down the bar. “You’ve had a shit run, but you could decide to come out on the other side if you wanted to.”

Ray’s gaze shifts between me and something further off in the distance. “So, he might not be gay, but he’s definitely interested in you.”

I give him a slow disbelieving head shake before raising the bottle to my lips and taking a huge gulp of water. “It doesn’t work like that, Ray. You of all people should know that.”

“It never works out the way it’s supposed to,” he says solemnly. “Youof all people should know that.”

“Like I said, I’m not interested,” I say sharply. “He’s my boyfriend’s brother.”

“Dead boyfriend,” he mutters just as Deacon returns. “Dead boyfriend’s brother.”

Even fucking worse.

11

Deacon

Julian looks like he’s seen a ghost when I return and Ray is now nowhere to be seen. I make a conscious effort not to ask if he’s okay. Not because I don’t care, but Julian is right. That’s all we seem to say to one another, and at this point I’m feeling too buzzed and would rather make the effort to cheer him up than bring up something I don’t think he wants to talk about.

“You ready for these shots?” I push three toward him and slide the lemon and salt between us. “Want to try these this time?”

Wordlessly, he raises his hand to his mouth, and licks the skin between his thumb and forefinger. Grabbing the salt shaker, he jostles it over his wet patch of skin. A small little cluster of salt sticks to him, and he wastes no time running his tongue across his hand, and letting the shot of tequila follow.

The action is completed in less than a second, but my mind is still stuck on the visual of his mouth and tongue, and the way it looked as he languidly licked the salt off his hand.

I want to watch him do it again.

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