Page 151 of Tech Bros

“Scary?”

He looks up at me now. “You could take him away.”

His words hit me like a shove to the chest. If I weren’t sitting, I’m positive I would have fallen on my ass. “Oh.”

Then hegoes on. “I do get why this is harder for you given what happened with your ex. I also understand I’m a lot. I’ve been—too much maybe. But I’ll do whatever I need to…to be with you both.”

I don’t know how I feel aboutanyof this. The words all make sense, but the premise feels off. “He’s not mine.”

Deacon, looking all tragic and beautiful with his shockingly expressive deep blue eyes, shakes his head. “He is. I see it. He’s said it.”

“It’s not all up tome,though.” It can’t be. I don’t want any of this on me. I have my own heart to worry about. I can’t be in charge of both of theirs, too.

“I just want a chance,” he says.

Something already tenuously stitched together in my chest splits straight down the middle. “I want a chance with you, too.” But I know that’s not what he means or even on topic. I’m also not sure he realizes how hard it is to watch him fall so easily for Isaac and stumble so hard when it comes to me. I get that I’m not six-two and rich, and I don’t top, and I’m only a secretary, but when it’s just Deacon and me, I still get butterflies. I still want to crack him open and feel his love pour out. I think it must be magnificent.

I understand he communicates differently, but with Isaac involved, it’s almost like he’s stopped trying with me, and that’s hurt. I told myself it would get better the more time we have, but the way he’s talking—it doesn’t feel like he’s willing to give me that. He needs an answer. He needs a level of clarity I’m not sure I can give him.

“Do you really want that?” he asks.

I want to say yes, of course I want a chance with Deacon. But it feels a little like missing a plane and expecting it to turn around to come back and collect me. Of course it won’t. “Well, yeah,” I say weakly.

“That’s not what it seems like,” he says.

“What does it seem like?”

“It seems like you want to be with Isaac. Like you want to behisboyfriend. You never left his side at the party, and you acted jealous when he was with me.”

I can’t argue that I got jealous when they disappeared together, but I didn’t seek out Isaac’s company at the dinner party any more than he sought out mine. I had no idea Deacon was watching so closely or that it would hurt him. My whole job at parties is to pick up Deacon’s social slack.

“You won’t let me help in the kitchen.” The excuse is weak as fuck, but I don’t know what else to say. He’s not wrong. He saw what he saw, and I’m not sure what I would have done differently.

Deacon grips the edge of the mattress. “I get that he loves you. He’s been clear about that since day one, and I’m glad you’re giving him a chance. But if there’s not a chance for me to be part of it—part of your relationship—then you need to tell me.”

This isn’t fair. It’s not my fault Isaac decided to finally open up about his feelings for meafterhe started seeing Deacon, and I can’t help how I feel about either of them. I thought I was wanted—they both led me to believe that, but maybe now that he’s had us both, Deacon’s made his choice—the one I’ve always feared was inevitable. “Why do you keep trying to put this all on me?”

“Because you’re the one who put yourself in the middle,” he says, and I actually feel like he slapped me.

“Wait.” He rubs his face and drops his shoulders. “That didn’t come out right. I didn’t mean that.”

“I think you did,” I say, my voice shaky but clear.

“No,” he says sharply, a harsher tone than I’ve ever heard come out of him. “You were already there. You were already with Isaac.”

What he’s saying isn’t making it better. If anything, it’s worse. I can’t blame Deacon for poor word choice. It happens. He says the wrong thing sometimes, but today he’s doubling down, and he was upset with me from the time he got home. This is real. His frustration with me is real. He wants Isaac, and I was fun while I lasted, but if I’m not mistaken, I’m being asked to step the fuck out of the way.

“I’m sorry,” I manage to whisper.

“The thing is, I kind of think there’s no right way to do this, but there’s gotta be at least a million ways to do it wrong.”

I nod. Becauseno shit.

“I understand,” I say. “I won’t try to come between you again.”

“Okay,” he says like we’ve come to some sort of agreement. “Good. I’m gonna go take a shower before dinner.”

With that, he leaves my bedroom, and me, speechless.