He bowed his head, his palm rubbing the back of his head.
I didn’t jump to conclusions, but that didn’t look like a good sign.
He stared at the ground for a while before he raised his chin once more, his expression still unreadable.
“Deacon?” I could deal with his prolonged silence most of the time, but right now, it was impossible. I’d just put myself out there, and I needed him to acknowledge me, to communicate in the same concise manner I just had.
“Cleo…” His deep voice escaped from his lips with a painful sigh.
Fuck, that didn’t sound good.
He moved his hands to his hips. “You mean a lot to me, Cleo. But…”
Oh, the agony.
“I don’t feel the same way.”
I started to breathe hard, overrun with humiliation, with anger. “How can that be possible? You’re my best friend, and I’m yours. You take me to the planetarium with your son, take me to lunch with your family, the cabin for the weekend—”
“I misspoke.” He sighed again, this time growing frustrated. “Obviously, I’m attracted to you.”
That was obvious?
“Obviously, you’re the one person on this earth who understands me.”
Damn right.
“But I don’t want to be in a relationship again.”
Now, it all made sense. Tucker’s warning had been right, that it didn’t matter how Deacon felt about me, what he felt when we were together, his past would restrain him from a better future. “I know Valerie hurt you. I understand that was a bad relationship. But I’m not Valerie. That wouldn’t happen with us—”
“The answer is no.” His nostrils started to flare, his face starting to tint that red color it did when he was really angry. It was the same look he wore when he was on the phone with Valerie, like he was so pissed off, he didn’t know how to contain everything inside his chest. “I’ve been divorced for six months, Cleo. The last thing I want to do is get stuck with someone else. I like being by myself. It’s the first time in my life that I’m actually happy. Why would I sacrifice that to do that shit again?”
I closed my eyes briefly, feeling his palm strike me in the face.
“No,” he repeated, as if his answer hadn’t been clear enough.
I wanted to walk out, but I also didn’t want to turn my back on him, give up on what we could have. “I understand you’re scared to be in another relationship—”
“I’m not fucking scared.” He snapped at me, like he’d already given that response before.
I didn’t like it when he screamed at me, yelled at me, treated me like I was a nuisance. “I’m not Valerie, Deacon. You’ve known me for six months. I’ve only put your best interests first. I’ve proven to you that I’m not some manipulative, cunning, evil—”
“I never said you were. But it doesn’t make any difference. I will never put myself in that situation ever again. Even now, that cunt is kicking me like a dog, still making my life miserable. Now you suggest the two of us have a relationship—”
“I’m not Valerie!” I screamed. I felt the angry tears in my eyes, felt exhausted by the suffocating insults he continued to throw at me. “I’m Cleo. I’m the woman you trust to take your son back and forth across the country. I’m the woman who runs your life as smoothly as possible because I want you to be happy. I’m the woman who’s got your back through and through. I’m the most loyal motherfucker on this planet.” I stepped back, breathing hard, keeping the tears at bay so I could let them fall when I reached the hallway. “I’m not her…and I think we’d be great together.”
He dragged his palms down his face, taking a second to root his anger. When he looked at me again, he was just as pissed as before. “I care about you a lot, Cleo. But I never want this to be something more. I can’t just fuck you and pretend it didn’t happen the next day, so we can’t do that.”
I felt like I’d been slapped in the face again. That was how he viewed me? As one of his disrespectful bimbos who left their red panties behind? He didn’t feel everything I felt? After everything we’d been through?
“I want this to remain professional. We go back to what we were and move on.”
I’d never been this hurt in all my life. When my husband told me about his infidelity and moved out to be with his new woman, I was numb inside. But this was worse, so much worse, because my feelings for Deacon were a million times stronger than what I felt for that piece-of-shit ex-husband of mine.
I took a deep breath and smoothed out the front of my skirt, trying to turn off my heart, turn off my soul, feel nothing so I could walk out of that residence with the grace of a queen. I wasn’t going to lie, I’d hoped to end up in his bed tonight, to make love so good that we touched the stars. But instead, I’d lost him entirely. “Alright, Deacon.” I straightened my back and squared my shoulders. “I’ll see you later.” I turned around and walked to the door, and the second my face was turned, I felt the tears begin, felt them flood my eyes and spill over onto my cheeks. I wanted to regret putting my heart out there and sabotaging what we had, but I didn’t. Now that I knew where he stood, how he really felt, I could stop wasting my time assuming I was different, that we were supposed to be together.