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“So...” Deacon said awkwardly as he sat in our living room with a cup of coffee.

I rolled my eyes. “Just say it, Deacon.” I took a seat at our kitchen table, the apartment so small that we could still have a casual conversation between the spaces.

“You left the club!” He said it like it was some huge milestone, some big feat I’d overcome. What he didn’t realize was how just the thought of it was eating away at my insides.

Instead of letting him know just that, I shrugged. “I never meant to be with the club forever. I would’ve walked away eventually I suppose. It was just easy— a way to work my way through college like any other student would.”

He screwed up his face like he had a bad taste in his mouth. “I’m not sure I know a lot of girls who screwed their way through college.”

I smirked. “You’d be surprised.”

He lifted his cup to his lips, but I caught the glimpse of a smile before he tasted the burning liquid.

I heard Rose tossing and banging in her room and both of us looked in the direction of the hallway. I inhaled deeply through my nose. She’d come in and stomped around before flying off to her bedroom without even a word.

“She sounds a little frustrated,” Deacon mused. His friends had taken off not long after we had arrived. They’d come in separate cars and had piled in the other vehicle, leaving Deacon’s car for him so he could get home since he refused to leave just yet. I wasn’t really sure why.

“I couldn’t let her do it,” I said, sighing sadly. “Men like that, they aren’t‘no’kinda guys.”

“Sounds like you have experience in that field.” He sat back, nestling into the sofa and cupping his mug with both hands.

I snorted. “Too much experience, unfortunately.” I played with my own cup, twisting and turning it on the smooth surface of the wooden table and gripping it with my hand until I couldn’t handle the heat any longer.

Deacon sat silently like he was expecting me to continue with some kind of epic story. He was wrong. I didn’t share my stories. While I had many that could twist your stomach and break your heart, they didn’t mean anything. Not anymore. I’d been there, I’d done that and there was no way I was going back. The minute I had turned eighteen I’d left that place without even a second glance. Sure, I’d left behind what I would call friends. But not ones that mattered or that I saw as part of my future so I kept them where they should be, in the past.

“You don’t share much do you?”

I looked up to see him staring at me with a curious look on his face. “I try not to dwell. Ain’t going to get me anywhere, it’s not going to help me in life by looking back and recalling that crap.”

He shrugged. “Fair call.”

We sat in silence for a little while. But it wasn’t awkward. Deacon was still hard for me to read. He had too many extremes. One minute he’d be angry, judging my life choices, the next he’d smile and act like nothing bothered him. He’d act curious, but when I shut him down he just brushed it off like he didn’t even care to know.

“Don’t suppose you’re looking for a job now?” he said jokingly, wiggling his eyebrows at me. I had to laugh. The guy didn’t miss a beat.

“I have a little money saved up, but yeah, soon I’ll need to get some kind of work to help pay my way.” I looked back to the hall, the light was still on under Rose’s door. “That’s if she doesn’t kick me to the curb after I killed her night tonight.”

Deacon leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees and still holding his cup with both hands. “I still have one open. I could use someone with some kind of experience.”

I twisted my mouth, with the offer still there and the job something that would be so perfect, I had to fight to keep my lips closed and stop myself from screaming‘Yes! I’ll take it!’There were other things I needed to consider.

Could I work with Deacon knowing that there was some weird vibe shaking the air between us?

“Chelsea, you have no idea the type of people I’ve had to interview this week.” HHe pouted at me. “This one girl was more concerned with which mirror was the best for taking workout selfies than actually working out. She said, and I quote…‘sweat patches are so not attractive.’“

I almost spat my coffee across the table, having to bang on my chest several times so that I could breathe again. I could see in his face that he wanted to laugh, but he managed to hold his features straight.

“I’m not joking. Save me. Save me from having to talk to any more weirdos.”

I smiled, unable to keep a straight face as he hit me with a ridiculous pair, of what I assumed, were meant to be puppy dog eyes but came off more like creepy stalker vision. The longer it took me to reply, the bigger the smile on his face became. He knew the wall was crumbling. This was the job I wanted and it was being handed to me. It was like wafting a roast dinner under a homeless person’s nose.

I needed a job.

I groaned. “Okay, okay. I’m in.”

Deacon pumped his fist, jumping as it caused him to spill hot coffee on his lap. I laughed at his predicament and we discussed plans for me to come in the next day just to have a look around and a feel for the space and what I would be doing. I was excited.

I waved to Deacon as he climbed into his car and sped off from the curb before shutting and locking the apartment door. Turning, I took a deep breath as I eyed that light which still shone from under Rose’s bedroom door. I knew I needed to talk to her now rather than later and hope that she understood where I was coming from. I tapped on her door, but there was no answer.

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