The trust factor, p.25
The Trust Factor, page 25
This was the Tonya who emailed me about reservations and travel arrangements? There was no fucking way this was happening.
“It’s very nice to meet you both,” Deacon answered since I was once again rendered speechless. He stood up and extended his hand to both of them.
Tonya eyed me suspiciously as she lowered herself into the seat across from me. Lily practically drooled at the sight of Deacon and took the chair at the head of the table.
“It’s so nice to meet both of you!” I exclaimed breathlessly and cleared my throat. I extended my hand toward Tonya and added, “All of the times we spoke through email, I never imagined you were . . . with my dad.”
Tonya pursed her lips in a way that pinched her cheeks.
“It took them a year to tell me they were finally dating.” Lily rolled her eyes, laughing into her water. “Anyone who saw them together could see they were completely crazy about each other.”
“How often did you see them together?” I prompted, reuniting with my wine. I sensed Dad’s nervous shift but refused to give him my attention.
“We try to go away once a month for at least a weekend, but my schedule at Yale is so crazy,” Lily said innocently. It was a genuine answer, and I saw the wheels spinning in her head. She had known about me, but she was under the impression that I also knew about her. “I was always so bummed when you couldn’t come with us, but Aaron said you’re pretty busy too with school?”
I wanted to disappear under the floorboards and take the elevator back down to the street. I desperately wanted to fast-forward the next hour of my life and spare Deacon the front-row seat to a reality show he didn’t sign up for.
“Yeah, super busy,” I offered, ignoring the stinging behind my eyes. Once dinner was over, I’d allow myself two minutes to react like I usually did after seeing my dad. Until then, the waterworks would have to subside.
Deacon’s arm returned to the back of my chair. “Lyla’s schedule is pretty hard. I don’t know how she does it all.”
“Does what, exactly?” Tonya asked, sending shivers down my spine.
Deacon’s eyebrows pulled slightly, and he cocked his head.
“What are you studying?” Lily asked before Deacon could say something. It was probably best since he was shooting daggers across the table at the happy couple.
“Business with an English minor,” I answered sweetly. Every time I said those words out loud, I plunged a knife into my dad’s perfect painting.
Lily’s eyes lit up at my response, but before she could ask her next question, we were interrupted again by the Wicked Witch of the West end of the table.
“How is the room at your hotel? I wanted to book the penthouse suite for you guys, but the last time I did that, Lyla decided to throw a frat party and sleep with the pool boy.”
I choked back my wine and placed my glass on the table to prevent it from spilling.
My dad laughed at his fiancée's comment and raised his glass of whiskey. “Deacon seems to have a good head on his shoulders. This is probably the one trip you could’ve done that, sweetie, and we would’ve gotten our deposit back.”
Tonya joined him in laughing, and the two toasted to something no one else at the table understood. I was positive it was something fucking annoying, just like this horrendous dinner that hadn’t even started. “And what are you studying, Deacon? You are in college, right?”
“Medical,” Deacon said politely. “I’m studying to be a pediatric surgeon.”
“Money, then.” Tonya shrugged disapprovingly, locking eyes with me across the table. “That isn’t shocking at all.”
“Lyla is no Lily,” Dad explained. It sounded like an apology for the daughter he never wanted. “Numbers and logic were never really her strong suits.”
Deacon’s grip on my chair tightened, and he was seconds away from lunging across the table. I placed my hand on his knee and did the one thing I knew would put his attention on something else. I trailed my fingers up his thigh until I was dangerously close to his—
His hand stopped my attempt, and his eyes met mine. His shoulders relaxed, and the pressure on my chair shifted under the weight of his arm.
“I’m going to the restroom,” Lily announced. I was glad to see I wasn’t the only one trying to escape this conversation. “Lyla, do you want to come with me?”
“S-sure,” I stammered, removing my napkin from my lap. As soon as I placed it on the table, Tonya stood across from me.
“I’ll join you, girls.” She smiled condescendingly as I caught the last second of Lily’s eye roll.
Deacon squeezed my hand one last time, and before I left him to face Aaron Brooks alone, I gave him a small kiss on his temple. At this point, I didn’t care if Lily planned on dragging me through a hallway of flames on the way to the restroom. She got me a few moments away from my dad.
Chapter fifty-three
Deacon
Growing up, I always knew my parents were proud of me. They may not have always liked my choices, but they never made me feel like they loved me any less because of them. My parents always jumped at the opportunity to talk about their sons, and they lit up whenever they relived our accomplishments or shared our dreams.
As I sat across from a man who had an amazing and accomplished daughter, I couldn’t understand why he was such a jackass. His smug grin and extended whiskey glass over the table made me want to take a swing at him.
He was everything Lyla said he would be—predictable and disappointing.
When I didn’t clink my glass against his, he raised his hand to the right. A photographer ducked into the corner table and continued with his meal.
“Another photo op, huh?” I said, sounding much angrier than I intended to.
“I’m not sure what you’re implying,” Aaron stated. “My brand manager hires content creators to capture moments of my life I want recorded.”
“Like introducing your daughter to the fiancée you’ve had for over a year? Those kinds of moments?” I raised my glass to my mouth, watching his lips curl into a disapproving smirk. “Or comparing her to a girl she just met a few minutes ago, only to learn that your soon-to-be stepdaughter has spent more time with you than she has?”
“Lyla isn’t someone I can just introduce to people. She’s difficult and can be a lot. You have to know this by now. She’s never been someone I can have by my side for long periods of time before she draws the attention of a negative storyline.”
“Lyla is a lot of things—”
“See?” He clapped his hands, resting them on his lap. “She’s impulsive, unorganized, and completely lacks the common sense that’s needed to do anything productive with her life—”
“With all due respect, sir,” I interrupted, placing my glass on the table. His mouth went slack, and it was clear that people didn’t usually speak to him in my choice of tone. Now that I had his attention, I took a deep breath to steady myself. “You’re not going to talk about my girlfriend like that.”
His face relaxed as he took the floor again. “Lyla was my daughter before she became your girlfriend.”
I leaned on my elbows and tightly clasped my hands. “You think you get to call yourself a father because you set some money aside?”
His lips formed a hard line, and his green eyes met mine in a cold gaze. There was nothing paternal about this man. Driven by money and power, he would never put anyone else before himself, no matter how hard they tried to impress them.
“If you continue to disrespect her, I will take Lyla home tomorrow,” I threatened calmly. “You don’t get to drag her to any location you want when you decide to pop up every few months. Any promos or other bullshit you plan to use her for while she’s here stops now.”
“I don’t know what Lyla has told you, Deacon,” he said cooly, “but when she gets bored of you in a few months, remember this moment.”
“And you remember this,” I mimicked his tone. “As long as I’m with Lyla, you’re no longer going to treat her as someone who is disposable to you. You have a brilliant and beautiful daughter with a passion for a dream that she just wants your help to build. Do you know how many parents would do anything to give their kids the opportunity you’re holding against her? And why? Because she doesn’t fit the mold you’ve tried to push her into?”
He didn’t respond, but I knew he was listening.
“Time is a precious thing, Mr. Brooks. We don’t always have as much as we think we do with the people we love. I don’t doubt that you love your daughter, but you have a shitty way of showing it. She’d do anything to get some kind of approval from you, and as long as I’m in her life, she isn’t going to do it anymore.”
Lyla and Lily returned to the table, laughing at something right before they sat down. They continued the conversation as Tonya took her seat, rubbing Aaron’s forearm and trying to steal his attention away from me.
Aaron and I exchanged no other words for the remainder of dinner. Still, the heat simmered in my gut when Tonya asked Lyla about her plans for Chicago, and Aaron commented about visiting for Christmas. Lily asked Lyla more about how she and I met, and when Lyla brought up the Stripper Pole Video, I stole glances at Aaron to gauge his response. He sipped his whiskey as the girls chatted, and when a photographer came around the table again, we all threw on a smile to wrap up the night.
“You’re going to have to let me know when you’re moving after graduation,” Lily exclaimed on our walk out of the elevator. “I’m taking summer classes, but I should have a little bit of a break so we can plan a time to get together!”
Tonya hid her disapproving smirk behind Aaron as the engaged couple watched their daughters hug goodbye. They lingered by the concierge desk to check on the cars while we stood near the entrance.
Lily extended her hand, and I shook it gently. “It was nice to meet you, Lily.”
“I’ll be seeing you again soon, I hope? I never got to ask if you were moving to Chicago, too.”
I felt Aaron’s stare from across the lobby.
“We’re still figuring out the details,” I said, kissing Lyla’s temple. “We want to make sure she’s got everything in order before she makes room for me.”
Lyla rolled her eyes. “He’s just being modest. He has to decide which school he wants to go to since he has so many options to choose from.”
“Impressive.” Lily crossed her arms. “I’m glad we got to meet in person, Lyla. Our parents can be, well, you know.”
“I know.” Lyla leaned into my chest. “I’m glad we met before my dad mentioned you. He has a way of ruining things before they can even start.”
Lyla and Lily shared one final round of laughter before Aaron and Tonya approached us.
“Lyla,” Tonya said with a soft smile. “Always a pleasure.”
“It's nice to finally put a face to the name,” Lyla offered.
“When is your flight home?” Aaron asked once it was just the three of us.
Lyla nervously tucked a curl behind her ear. “Thursday. Tonya booked a short trip.”
“She knows you’re pretty busy.”
“She made that part pretty clear,” I said before he could drag this out any longer. “It was nice to see you again, Mr. Brooks.”
I held out my hand, and we parted ways after a firm handshake. I stepped outside so Lyla could have one last moment with her dad before their next quarterly meeting. We both knew his chances of visiting in December were slim, but since it was only March, he had plenty of time to find another reason to meet up.
I leaned against our taxi and watched Lyla exchange a stiff hug with her dad. When she made a beeline toward me, I opened the door for her and allowed her to slide in first. She stared out the window, and I knew she was trying to hide from whatever was happening in her head.
I reached for her hand, lacing my fingers with hers. “Hey.”
She looked over as a single tear rolled down her cheek. I reached to brush it away with my thumb, and she grabbed my wrist. “Don’t,” she warned. “I’m okay. I just need two minutes.”
My heart sank as she rested her head against the seat and closed her eyes. “Two minutes?” I repeated.
“Two minutes is the usual time I give myself to recover. My dad doesn’t deserve anything more than that.”
Her dad didn’t deserve any of her time, but I kept that comment to myself. I scooted closer so she could rest her head against my shoulder.
A few months ago, I remembered thinking that I would knock the lights out of anyone who hurt this girl. As I witnessed Lyla’s reaction to a person who was supposed to love her unconditionally, I realized I didn’t want to just bring pain to the person who hurt her—I wanted to be the one to protect her from it all in the first place.
Chapter fifty-four
Lyla
I never thought a hotel room could feel like home until I was forced out of it for three hours. It was the only place that secluded us from the rest of Miami and the one place I knew my dad would never show up to.
After two minutes of my emotional breaking point, Deacon and I filled the silence with effortless conversation like usual. He took every chance he could to have his hands on me, and I pretended like my skin wasn’t on fire. He’d sometimes take too long to answer one of my questions, and his tongue would graze the center of his top lip. I’d pretend like I didn’t notice and continue going down the list of things in my head that I wanted to do to him in the backseat.
It was a torturous game I invented called, We Said We’d Only Fuck Deacon Scott One Time. It was a lonely one-player mission, and I always failed the first level.
I wanted Deacon to touch me again. I needed more than the little touches he gave me throughout the day. I craved them as soon as I woke up and right before I fell asleep. I wanted him to touch me in a way that made me his, and I wanted him without limitations. Deacon seemed like a stamina kind of man, and I desperately wanted to know how long that engine ran for.
Deacon closed the door behind us and tossed his jacket on the couch. I went straight for the minibar and cracked open the fridge. My new Mother Dearest would find a new appreciation for a bar bill instead of a security deposit. I was half-tempted to toss one of the lounge chairs at the window just to kiss that chapter of my life goodbye. I could leave her with one final send-off before I left for Chicago.
I scanned the drink selection, pulling out all eight bottles of wine. I held one over my shoulder and waved it at Deacon. “Nightcap?”
He rolled up his shirt sleeves and let out a tired breath. “Yeah.”
Fuck me, and fuck that shirt.
I took off my shoes and padded across the room. We both unscrewed the tiny caps, and I held up my drink. “Cheers?”
We tapped them together, taking a long sip. I was mildly impressed when Deacon downed his in one gulp. I decided to take the rest of the bottle to the bathroom, eager to wash my face and clean my headspace of this evening.
Deacon appeared in the doorway, watching me take out my earrings as I placed them on the counter. My earlobes throbbed after holding my studs for a few hours. I never wore earrings, and they loved to remind me how much we hated them.
“Can I kiss you?” Deacon asked in a low and husky voice, sending a ripple effect of sparks throughout my chest.
I wanted to make sure I heard him correctly. “What?”
“Can I kiss you?”
Deacon walked toward me, looking completely edible—cleaned up in a dress shirt that hugged his chest and accentuated his broad shoulders. The scent of his cologne made my mouth go dry.
I eyed him playfully as he closed the space between us. “There isn’t anyone around.”
“I know that,” he said in a cute yet cocky way, his lip curving into the sexy smirk I loved.
Heat pooled between my legs, and the need grew incredibly hard to ignore. My response was barely above a whisper. “Yeah.”
Deacon cupped the back of my head and met me with a soft kiss. His tongue grazed my bottom lip, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. I drew his tongue into my mouth, and a soft moan resonated in the back of his throat. He tried to keep our pace slow, but I fought against it. I tugged his bottom lip with my teeth and trailed kisses down his jaw.
“Fuck it,” he murmured.
His hands slid under my dress, hoisting me onto the counter. I pressed my hips into his erection and began to move. He spread my thighs, trailing his hand until he was teasing my panty line and rubbing his thumb over my clit. My breath hitched as the hands I had wanted on me since Christmas reignited the fire under my skin.
I threw my head back as Deacon slid a finger inside me. Soft circles continued with his thumb while his mouth traveled up my neck, rounding the corner of my jaw and nipping my earlobe.
I let out a shaky breath and stared into his brown eyes. They were eager, yet they still carried the familiar warmth that made me feel completely at ease.
His lips barely brushed mine as he slid another finger past my panties. “Do you want me to stop?”
My body ached for more of him. He sucked softly on my bottom lip before leaning away. When a frustrated whine fumbled out of me, he chuckled, keeping himself within reach but not budging when I pulled at his shoulders.
“No,” I pleaded.
As soon as the word left my mouth, he kissed me again. He cupped my face with his free hand as his fingers curled inside me. I inhaled sharply, staring at him as the pressure began to build. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he was driving me insane.
“I know this isn’t real,” he murmured. “But I’ve been trying all night to ignore how incredible your ass looks in this dress, and your smile . . . your smile gets me every time.”
“We’d just be using each other, Deacon,” I said through a staggered breath. I wasn’t sure who I was trying to convince—Deacon or myself.
He removed his hand, leaving my body begging for a release. “Then use me, Lyla. Use me for as long as you want to. Let me show you how beautiful you are. Let me make you feel good. Let me show you how all of those guys on your calendar should’ve been fucking you.”
