Page 53 of Without You

I’m the guy, that when tomorrow comes, I wish I could be.

It isn’t long before Deacon and Keri return, no longer arm in arm. Deacon is responsible for the tray of shooters, while Keri walks shakily with her fingers wrapped around four bottlenecks.

He carefully places the tray on the tabletop, and we all gather around. Just as I raise the shot glass to my lips, I feel someone’s hand squeeze my bicep. Putting down the drink, I look over my shoulder and see an apologetic looking Ray.

“Hey, is everything okay?” I ask him. He tilts his head to the side, and I step out of the circular formation, giving us some privacy. “What’s up?”

“I just wanted to apologize before I head out for the night.”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for, man.”

“No, I do.” He shakes his head. “I overstepped. I do it a lot.”

I quickly glance over to Deacon, who’s laughing with the group. “You may have had some valid points.”

“Really?” he teases. “Want to be more specific?”

Playfully, I shove his shoulder. “Stop trying to get me to concede.”

“Okay. Fine.” he chuckles. “But maybe we can catch up outsideof work sometime.”

I’m about to awkwardly protest when he says, “As friends, Julian. Relax.”

I run my hand across my forehead. “Yeah, of course. That would be great.”

He offers me his hand to shake and I take it. When my palm touches his, he wraps his fingers around my hand and pulls me closer to him, till his mouth is close to my ear. “But if your friend decides he’s into dick and you don’t want him, I call dibs.”

My body stills, and I can feel my teeth painfully clenching together at Ray’s flippant comment. I want to snatch my hand away from his, take hold of his shirt and make him promise to keep his eyes and hands off Deacon.

But what right do I have to say that? Deacon’s a big boy, he can take care of himself.

Stepping away from Ray, I don’t miss the smug smile across his face, which means he didn’t miss the shift in my demeanor.

Lowering my eyes away from his, I visibly swallow, trying to compose myself. Everything about this is so out of character for me. I’m not aggressive or possessive, and jealousy is not something I’ve ever been familiar with. But then again, with Rhett, the idea of him with someone else never even entered my mind.

We were secure. A sure thing. Inevitable.

This pull to Deacon is the complete opposite of that. It’s nothing but the shell of a house standing on shaky ground.

It only needs one thing to fall apart, and any progress he and I made would turn into dust—Like it never really happened.

Ray tips his chin up at me. “I’ll see you around Julian.”

I don’t bother responding, and he knows I have no desire to say anything in return.

Turning back to the group, I’m surprised to see Deacon standing right behind me, holding on to what I assume to be my untouched shot glass.

“How long have you been standing there?” I say defensively.

He presses his lips together in a grimace, the battle between truth or lie evident on his face. “I didn’t like the way he held on to you.”

Why didn’t he just lie?

“Is that for me?” I ask, playing dumb and pointing at the drink.

He hands me the glass. “Congrats on the game of pool.”

“Really? That’s the line you’re going with right now?”

---