“I thought so.” Deacon had a few bites of salad, then dabbed his lips with his napkin. “If I asked you some questions, would you answer them honestly? In turn, you can ask me anything you want.”
Her lips left red lipstick stains when she took another drink. “And you’ll answer honestly too?”
“Always.”
She tapped her fork against her salad bowl while all the questions she wanted to ask came rushing to mind. “Could be fun.”
“I hope so.” He looked at her over his water. “Relationships based on lies don’t work.”
Relationsh—Did he just say relationship? She pinched herself and swallowed more wine to get rid of the lump in her throat. “You think we’re in a relationship?”
“Not yet.” The corner of his mouth lifted into a half smile. “But we’re certainly in something, and I’d like to figure out what it is.” He sprinkled a bit of parmesan cheese on top of his dinner and handed her the small grater. “Are you ready for my first question?”
“I feel like this is some sort of final exam.” She thought back to the last exam she’d been given in Neverland and set the grater beside the pepper grinder. “No one’s going to try and shoot me, right?”
“Not tonight,” he chuckled, straightening his spoon against the marble. “All right. First question: do you miss Ohio?”
Ohio? That was an interesting start to this conversation.
“No,” she said, “but I miss Lyle.” And now that she knew HOOK was tapping his phone, she couldn’t even call him. She washed away her sadness with a gulp of wine. “Is this a back and forth thing? Is it my turn?”
He nodded.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were related to Peter? You had plenty of chances.”
“When people find out about my connection to Peter, most of them change the way they treat me.”
She considered her last bite of salad on the end of her fork. “Did I change?”
“You’re one of the few exceptions.” Rubbing his forearm above his watch, he asked if she thought she’d ever leave Neverland.
“I’m going to Maryland on Monday. Does that count?” Her laugh came out shriller than expected.
His smile was small, but his eyes were serious. “I meant on a more permanent basis.”
The flame closest to her flitted when she let out a frustrated breath. But she had promised to be honest . . . “At first, my plan was to learn to fly, then make a run for it.”
He stiffened and shifted away from her. “I’m not doing this if you’re leaving. I don’t see the point in investing in something that’s destined to end from the beginning.”
“I’m not leaving, Deacon. I have too many reasons to stay.”
“Like what?”
She needed another drink. “My friends, recruiting,”—her eyes met his, and her internal fire sparked—“you.”
Deacon scratched his cheek and turned back to his dinner. “It’s your turn.”
She grabbed her knife, sliced off a chunk of eggplant, and stabbed it with her fork. She had made a pretty big confession, and all he wanted to do was eat. “I want to know about Gwen.”
The piece of eggplant parmesan on the end of his fork fell back onto his plate with a splat. “What would you like to know?”
“Did you see her at Christmas?” The candles flickered. She shivered as a chill settled over her shoulders.
After clearing his throat, he took a sip of wine. “Yes.”
Had Deacon done more than see Gwen? Had they been together?
Deacon’s eyes narrowed at her from over his glass. “Did you go out with Alex while I was in London?”
Crap. “Yes.”
“Are the two of you—?”
“I’m pretty sure the next question is mine.”
He offered her a tight-lipped nod.
“Did you sleep with her?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
He winced. “Can I lie and say I didn’t?”
The confession wasn’t surprising, but it left her feeling hollow. She reached for her wine glass but couldn’t remember which was hers. One was empty, the other full. Both had lipstick stains, so she picked the full one.
“I know this is going to sound messed up,” he groaned, raking his hand through his hair, “but I only hooked up with her because I thought it would help get you out of my head.”
In what world did that make any sense? “That’s really messed up, Deacon.” And incredibly disappointing.
He rested his elbows on the counter and covered his face with his hands. “I know. I know it is. I told you I’m not good at this.”
She had more wine and pushed what was left of her dinner around the plate. It had been silly to hope this was going to be a good conversation. “Are you in love with her?” she asked. If he was, she needed to know before she got any deeper. He’d wanted assurance that she was going to stick around. She needed assurance that he wasn’t going to get back with his ex.
“With Gwen?” He dropped his hands and his brows flicked up in surprise. “No. I mean, at one point I thought I was. But definitely not.”
“Have you—?”
“I believe it’s my turn.”
She bit her lip and nodded, relieved that he’d stopped her. She’d been about to ask if he’d been in love with anyone before Gwen. But the truth was, she didn’t want to know.
“What do you expect from me?” he said carefully, waving a finger between them. “From this?”
Whatever was going on between them was an entirely new experience for her. She’d dated a few guys back in Ohio, but hadn’t gotten into anything serious. “What should I expect?”
“Honestly?” he chuckled. “Probably not much. I’m shit at texting and keeping in touch, and I haven’t led the most…virtuous existence. When I said I didn’t date, it wasn’t a lie. I literally had to google what to do on a date.” He waved a hand at the candles and forgotten plates. For someone who didn’t date, he’d done a pretty good job.
“But if we decide to do this,” he went on, “I can promise that I will always tell you the truth. And that I won’t go off with anyone else while we’re together. And that I will try.”
What more could she ask of him beyond honesty, fidelity, and effort? But . . . “Why me?”
“Because I can’t get you out of my mind, and even thinking of you with someone else makes me want to commit murder, and you call me on my shit, and you don’t seem to care about my family, and I’d really, really like to see you naked and—Was that enough or shall I continue?”
Watching his lips as he spoke was almost as distracting as feeling his hand drawing circles against her bare knee.
“I think those are some pretty solid reasons.”
He rested both his hands on her knees. “What do you say?” He leaned forward until he was only a breath away. “Would you like to try…with me?”
Vivienne wasn’t saying anything. Why wasn’t she speaking? Surely she had something to say. He’d just bared his soul, told her exactly how horrible he was, and then asked her to ignore all of it and try to build a relationship with him.