being your usual surly self, refusing to talk to anyone, and pretending that the fact that your new job involves working with your high school ex doesn’t bother you, even though you snapped at anyone who so much as mentioned his name.”
“That’s not—”
“Three, you suddenly stop being quite so taciturn a few weeks ago, and start mysteriously sleeping somewhere that is not the inn, which I advise you not to deny because the fire alarm went off in the middle of the night two weeks ago, and you were nowhere to be found, and lying isn’t a good look on you.”
I glared at him.
“Four,” Deacon continued, “a week ago, you descended back here with your storm clouds, and have been infesting the place ever since. Clearly something happened, and clearly it has something to do with Julian, and do you really want me to keep going with my guesses, or do you just want to tell us?”
“What business is it of yours? It’s my life. What do you care?”
“We know that,” Em said. “But Connor, we care about you. And we can tell you’re upset, even if you pretend not to be.”
“You’re not that good at pretending, for the record,” Deacon added. “You’re a worse liar than Lily, and she’s ten.”
“Just let us help you,” Em said. “If something’s wrong, we can figure it out together. You helped me figure things out with Tate, didn’t you? And even though Deacon would probably rather not remember it, you helped him take his head out of his own ass when it came to Mal. Can’t you let us do the same for you?”
I felt a rush of heat in my chest. It wasn’t shame. It was worse—it was being seen. Em and Deacon had seen through my defenses and rationalizations and, for some reason, instead of walking away, they’d decided to stick around and try to help.
I hated it.
“Even if we can’t solve it,” Deacon said, his voice way too soft and soothing, “sometimes talking about things helps. And we’re always here to listen.”
“Jesus, why?” I snapped. “Why do you always do this?”
“Do what?”
“This parent thing,” I spat. “It’s pathetic. You’re not Dad. You realize that, right? Just because they died didn’t mean you became our parents. You’re not going to replace them.”
Deacon stared at me, shocked. “Is that really what you think I’m trying to do?”
“Why the fuck else are you always trying to horn in where you’re not wanted?”
“Because I’m trying to be your brother, you idiot. Jesus, Connor. I was never trying to replace Mom and Dad. Even if I could, I wouldn’t want to. I miss them just as much as you do.”
“Yeah?” I said, my voice scathing. “You sure moved on quickly for someone who’d just lost his parents.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You practically got yourself adopted by your girlfriend’s parents the second Mom and Dad were gone. You did everything you could to get away from us.”
Deacon recoiled, looking hurt, and I wondered if I’d gone too far. Probably. Store-Brand Connor was never one to hold back, and he was definitely the one at the wheel at the moment. But dammit, I’d held that in for years and it felt good to finally say it.
Em looked between Deacon and me, and then stared at me like I’d gone insane.
“Is that really what you think?” he asked.
“It’s what he did, isn’t it? He went over to Kim’s house all the time, once Mom and Dad were gone. He resented us. Tried to get away from us as much as he could.”
“He wasn’t gone any more than you were. A lot less, actually.” Em gave me a hurt look. “You’re the one who disappeared, after they died. Not Deacon.”
“I didn’t—”
“You stopped talking to anyone, you never left your room, and the only time I saw you in school was when you were on your way to ditch class. And a year later, you left Summersea for good,” Em said. “I had two brothers before Mom and Dad died. After, I only had one.”
I looked at Em—really looked at him for the first time in a while. He was usually so cheerful, so bright. It wasn’t that he seemed angry now, exactly. But I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen him so unvarnished and intense.
“I’m sorry,” I said after a minute.
Em sighed. “I didn’t say it to make you feel bad. I know you were going through shit. We all were. I just meant—well, I’m sure Deacon wasn’t