The Lucky Ones(60)

Deacon’s jaw dropped. “Listen to that mouth.” Deacon stared Allison down. “You kiss your brother with that mouth?”

“I do actually.”

Then Allison crawled up into Roland’s lap and kissed him. It wasn’t long before she realized she was truly relaxed and enjoying herself for the first time in days. She’d had fun with Roland last night but it certainly hadn’t been relaxing. The pot wasn’t very potent and it didn’t do much but make them all loose and giggly with the added benefit—no doubt Deacon’s intention—of making her feel like one of them again. And it was all going very well until Deacon opened his mouth again.

“So. Allison,” Deacon began, lifting his head off the floor, where he lay with Brien on his chest. Allison knew she was in trouble already. “A little bird told me that you had a special friend in Kentucky. Is that true?”

“What did you tell him?” Allison asked Roland.

“Nothing,” Roland said. “I swear.”

“He didn’t tell me anything,” Deacon said. “My wild Irish rose over there is the traitor.”

Allison glared at Thora. “Traitor.”

“I can’t help it,” Thora said, hiding her face in her cardigan. “He beat it out of me.”

“I said, ‘Thor, wonder if Allison had a boyfriend,’” Deacon said, “and then you spilled the beans.”

“You asked the question very pointedly,” Thora said.

“Beans everywhere,” Deacon said. “Girl can’t keep a secret to save her life.”

“Not true. Unfair. All lies,” Thora said.

Deacon hushed her with a snap of his fingers. “So, tell me,” Deacon said to Allison. “I want the whole story.”

“Fine,” Allison said. “I was the paid mistress of Cooper McQueen, heir to the McQueen family fortune. Maybe McQueen should have made me sign that NDA, after all, for how many times I’ve told the story since we broke up. Anyway, for sex years he paid me for six. I mean, for six years he paid me for sex. Then he broke up with me and now I’m here sleeping with Roland.”

“How was the sex?” Deacon asked.

“Top-notch,” Allison said.

“Who’s better? McQueen or my brother?”

“Your brother,” Allison said. “He didn’t have to pay me to sleep with him.”

“The mistress and the monk,” Deacon said, blowing smoke to the ceiling of the attic. “This is a buddy cop show waiting to happen.”

“I think he’s had enough,” Allison said. Roland apparently agreed and took the joint from his brother’s hand.

“Anybody else banging a billionaire around here?” Deacon asked.

“You should tell the story about when you made out with a guy,” Thora said.

“That’s a good story,” Deacon said.

“You made out with a guy?” Allison asked.

“I did,” Deacon said, grinning. “Went to this sake bar in Shanghai, met a super pretty guy from South Korea who looked weirdly exactly like Storm Shadow. He asked me about my work at the glass museum. I asked him what Snake Eyes looked like under the mask. Blah blah blah, fifteen minutes later we were making out in a back booth. Then we got kicked out, and I remembered I don’t have sex with strange men. Especially if they might be working for Cobra.”

“Okay, but when you say he looked exactly like Storm Shadow,” Roland said, “do you mean—”

“I mean he wore all white, had two crossed swords on his back and he was literally a ninja,” Deacon said. “I’m not sure if I’m bi or not but I’m definitely sure I’m a huge G.I. Joe fan.”

“Lots of overlap on that Venn diagram,” Thora said, making two circles with her fingers and bringing them together.

“Roland...” Deacon said, eyeing him meaningfully. “What about you?”

“Are you asking if I’m bi or if I’m a G.I. Joe fan?”

“I’m asking if, you know...during those long cold nights at the monastery, you found yourself someone to keep you warm in your lonely little cell.”

“You didn’t see the size of our beds at the monastery,” Roland said. “There was hardly room for one, much less two.”

“So what you’re saying is...you fucked the other monks on the floor?”

“Right,” Roland said, adorably deadpan.

“What about you?” Deacon said to Thora. “Any secret trysts you’ve never told me about?”

“You know all my secret trysts already,” she said.

“If I know them, then they’re not secrets,” Deacon said.

“But if I tell them to you, they’re not secrets, either,” she said.

“I never thought of that.” Deacon stared wide-eyed at the ceiling. He seemed to be having an epiphany. The entire time Allison watched this absurd exchange she was thinking, This is my family. This is my family. This is my family. And maybe it was the pot talking to her, but in that moment, she loved her family.

“This is just like The Breakfast Club,” Deacon said. “Right?”

“It’s almost midnight,” Allison said.

“This is just like The Very, Very Early Breakfast Club,” Deacon said. “Wait. We have to do the talent show, right? Talent show? They do a talent show in the movie. We should do the talent show?”