Learned Reactions

by Jayce Ellis

  But he wasn’t going to push. As far as he knew, he’d shot his shot, and missed. Goddammit.

  “How long are you going to be in town?” Carlton asked as his brain and heart finally got themselves on the same damn page.

  Deion shrugged, a tiny thing that managed to be a little embarrassed. “A few days, actually. Olivia said her last final is Tuesday, so I planned to see her again. If that’s okay,” he added.

  “You’ve been as much a father to her as I have, and I’m glad she still has you in her life. The thought that my being an asshole had cost her someone else so important to her made me a little nauseous.”

  “Nothing to worry about there. We’d exchanged numbers when I left the counseling session, and we’ve talked nearly nightly since then.”

  “Good.” Three days wasn’t a lot of time, but it was enough time for what he needed. He smiled, and Deion pointed a fork at him.

  “You’re planning something.”

  Carlton shrugged, not even bothering to deny it. “Maybe.”

  “Don’t you dare try to come up with some impromptu party or something like that. I will beat your ass.”

  He threw his head back and laughed. “Oh, come on. You’re leaving for parts unknown. You deserve a party.”

  “It’s London, not parts unknown, you goof. But you know how I feel about surprises.”

  “Fine. No surprises. But I need to be able to speak to you. I can’t go on without talking to you.”

  “Of course.”

  “Will I see you before you go?”

  It may have been a little sadistic, but Carlton wanted to clap in victory at the way Deion averted his eyes. Yeah, he’d said all the right things, but he didn’t mean them. And that was good, because Carlton didn’t mean that shit either. Oh, he thought he had, ten minutes ago when he’d said them. But no. Now that his plan was in place, a sense of rightness settled over him.

  This? This was what he wanted. Make this man his own, stop talking about it and be about it, and that’s exactly what he was going to do.

  “Finish your dessert, Deion.”

  Deion snorted and winked at him. “Yes, sir.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Deion fought his yawn as he moved through security at Dulles. It was too damn early, almost three in the morning, to be going through this. And the obligatory hair check, which he’d avoided exactly once in his adult life. He’d considered chopping his locs just to avoid it, and every time Carlton convinced him not to. Hell, now he was thinking about Carlton again—the last thing he wanted to do.

  “Purpose of your visit?”

  It took Deion a few moments to realize the agent running his gloved fingers through Deion’s scalp was trying to make conversation, probably because Deion was frowning, like he constantly did now when he thought about his best friend. He tried for his best smile. “Visiting my parents for a bit.”

  The guy nodded, then stepped back and snapped off the gloves, pointing toward Deion’s bag. “Happy holidays. Enjoy your trip,” he said.

  Deion nodded and responded even as his voice caught. “Happy holidays.”

  And he tried to infuse that in his brain, that these holidays would be happy, even if they weren’t with Carlton. Even if things between them had irrevocably changed, but he knew, deep down, they would find their way back to the easy friendship they’d had before. His heart couldn’t stomach anything else.

  He rolled his bag down the wide walkways, wishing something was fucking open. Yes, it was too early to drink, but if anything should be twenty-four hours, it should be the duty-free shop. Because he could really go for some Johnnie Walker Blue right now. Or, if they had a bar, another grasshopper. Either would hit the spot.

  Deion checked his ticket one more time and found his gate. God, it was already crowded, the chairs full, duffel bags and backpacks on the ground, folks sitting on top of wheeled luggage and leaning against columns, and the flight didn’t leave for another three hours. He couldn’t imagine seven-plus hours of being cramped on a plane, but hell, it could be worse. Somehow.

  He was following a couple, who broke off to their left for the bathrooms, and skidded to a stop. He blinked, sure as shit he was seeing things. Because that could not be Olivia scrolling through her phone. Or Carlton, knee tapping harder than it had the first time they’d been to Lawrence’s office. And Deion couldn’t tell if that was Trey, his legs stretched out and crossed, hoodie covering his eyes. No, it had to be the most fucked-up mirage imaginable, a figment of his starved imagination.

  Until Olivia looked up and spotted him, beamed, then nudged Carlton before sprinting through other passengers and into his arms.

  “Hey, Uncle D,” she said, her voice muffled against his chest. “About time you showed up.”

  Deion’s arms came around her automatically even as he stared down. Stared at Carlton, his sleepy eyes blinking widely, and even at Trey, who’d pulled his hoodie back just a fraction, but looked like he was near to falling back asleep. Eventually Deion found his voice. “Olivia, what are you doing here?”

  “Waiting on you. Someone,” she turned and stared at Carlton, “insisted we be here before you.”

  “We’ve been here since one,” Trey added.

  Deion looked at Carlton, but the man just shrugged. “She can be at the store at two for Black Friday, she can be here at one for this.”

  She turned her head to glare at him. “Not the same, Unc. Not the same.”

  What in the hell was happening? They were talking like being here wasn’t a big deal. Like it was something he should’ve expected. “Not that I’m not glad as hell to see you, but what’s going on? How did you get through security without a ticket?”

  “Oh, we have tickets, and let me tell you, I am like the coolest kid in school because I get to go to London for my winter vacation. Or,” she said, and glanced at her uncle again before turning back to Deion, “that’s what folks think. We’ll see how that goes.”

  With that, she sauntered back to her chair and sat. Trey still looked sleepy, but he was sitting up, that leg of his starting to tap the same way Carlton’s did, and Carlton? Deion couldn’t read the look on Carlton’s face to save his life.

  He wheeled his carry-on over. “Carlton, what’s going on?”

  Carlton ran a hand on his face, then watched Deion for a moment, a small smile tipping the side of his mouth. He stood, pushed Deion’s luggage toward the now-vacant seat, looked at Trey and Olivia, and said, “Watch this.” Then he grabbed Deion’s arms and walked toward one of the columns that was miraculously unoccupied.

  Deion stared at his friend, even as his feet followed of their own accord. “Carlton, I know you like to play tricks and shit, but it’s too early in the morning for this. You’ve got to tell me what in the hell is happening.”

  “You know,” Carlton said, looking off to the side, his hands still tight around Deion’s, “I really thought I could do it. I really thought I could look at you, see you, and go back to being friends. I didn’t want to lose that.”

  “You haven’t,” Deion insisted, hating that even now he couldn’t deny the need to comfort him. “Carlton, I’m still your best friend. Distance doesn’t change that.”

  Carlton squeezed his hands, like he’d needed to hear that, and nodded. “True, but we’re lying to ourselves if we say things haven’t changed, aren’t we?”

  Yeah. No way he could say that. Sure, things had changed. That dinner had been the most awkward Deion had been around Carlton since the day they’d met. He wished like nothing else to return to their normal.

  “You know what I realized?” Carlton asked, and Deion startled at the sudden conversational tone in his voice.

  “What’s that?” Deion swallowed the lump in his throat, not sure he wanted to know.

  “That you always accommodate me.”

  “The hell?” Wh
ere was any of this going? It was three in the damn morning. Deion was dead on his feet, and Carlton and Trey and Olivia were all chillin’ in the gate for an international flight like it was no big deal. Deion was losing his mind.

  “Like in college,” Carlton said, like he wasn’t tossing random-ass items in the air and expecting Deion to keep up. “We hooked up that one time and I decided we should be friends. You just kind of nodded and said okay, and that’s what we’ve been. Right?”

  Deion shrugged. “Well, yeah. What else was I supposed to do? We kinda had more pressing concerns, didn’t we?”

  Carlton ignored him and kept talking. “And then here, I decided you should stay to help me get settled with Ollie, and you said sure. Didn’t even hesitate. I decided to go along with Evangelyn’s assumptions, and you didn’t call me on my shit or correct her immediately like any rational person would have. Right?” He watched Deion then, like he was intensely interested in his reaction.

  Deion’s heart thudded in his chest, his throat closing at the words that wanted to come out. Had he been this much of a lackey? He didn’t know if he sounded loyal or pathetic.

  “And then, just three nights ago,” Carlton continued, “I decided again that we should just be friends. And you smiled at me, and you said sure.”

  “Carlton,” Deion said, suddenly weary of hearing the decades’ worth of acquiescence to his best friend, “where is this going? What are you trying to say?”

  “You know,” Carlton went on, as though Deion hadn’t spoken, “I genuinely thought I was doing the right thing when I said I couldn’t lose you and wanted to be friends. I really did.”

  “And now, what? You changed your mind?”

  “Yeah.” Carlton stepped back and grinned, a half-shy, half-impish thing that made Deion want to forget whatever conclusion they’d come to and kiss him senseless. “I did. And I’m hoping like hell you’ll accommodate me one more time.”

  Deion snorted. “Yeah, okay, Carlton, whatever.”

  Trey and Olivia walked over then. “Ayo, Unc, is it time?” Trey asked, while Olivia looked like she was about to cry.

  Carlton didn’t take his eyes off Deion when he nodded. “Yeah, Trey, it’s time—1:51.”

  “Already got it queued up.”

  Deion looked back and forth between them. Trey was focused on his phone, and Carlton’s face was enigmatic at best. He smiled then, that devilish little one that reminded Deion so much of the nineteen-year-old he’d fallen head over heels for the moment he’d set eyes on him, and waited for Trey to press play. He did, and even from the middle of the song, Deion recognized “You’ve Lost that Lovin’ Feeling” immediately.

  He went spine-straight and stared. “Carlton, no.”

  Carlton took a step back, then dropped to one knee.

  Olivia squealed, and the world around Deion disappeared. To the sight of this man, his best friend, his only love, on one knee in front of him, a box in his hand, while the blue-eyed soul crooning of the Righteous Brothers played in the background.

  “Deion Marcel Jones,” he said, “you have been my best friend for nearly twenty years. You’ve been my strength, you’ve been my joy, the first one I want to share good news with, the one who’s held me up when the news was its worst. You’ve supported my whims, my flights of fancy, and you’ve given me strength when my fears have been too much. You’ve never asked for more, and you’ve always accepted me as I am. You have given me everything I didn’t know I wanted or needed. And now, I want to do the same for you. I love almost nothing more than having Olivia and Trey with me.” He paused, blinking back the tears that sprang to his eyes.

  They sprang to Deion’s eyes too, and he wiped at them. This was not happening. People walking past had stopped, in part because proposals did that and because Trey had put his phone on a speaker and the song was loud. It was also ending, leaving only Deion’s pounding heart and Carlton, who’d owned it for nearly twenty years.

  Carlton took a breath, shook it off, and kept talking. “I thought losing your friendship was the worst thing that could happen to me. I was wrong. Losing your love, those hugs, those kisses, those soft touches and held hands, those game plans on how to make our home the best possible for our daughter—losing that hurt so much more. You are my everything. Let me be yours. You are our family. You are what makes us a family. Say you’ll make us complete. Will you marry me?”

  Deion was crying, openly, in the middle of an airport. So was Olivia, and while Trey was trying to play like he was tough, he sniffled more than once. This was Deion’s family. Holy hell. He had one.

  He stared at Carlton, his best friend, who wanted to make a life with him. Deion had come to the airport to start a new life and had gotten everything he wanted. Except one thing.

  He looked down, his smile so wide it hurt. “Pretty sure you still haven’t said the words.”

  Carlton laughed, long and loud. “This is what happens when you ad-lib: you forget the most important part.” He cleared his throat, but his smile didn’t fade, and his eyes fucking shone. “I love you, Deion. I was so scared of being vulnerable, but I’m more scared of not. I love you with everything I am, and you are my home. You’re our home,” he said, gesturing to Olivia and Trey. “And where you are is where we want to be, whether it’s here in DC or across the pond in London, I don’t care. Let me love you, baby, the way you’ve always loved me.”

  “I’m gonna kick your ass for this shit later,” Deion said.

  “I’ve got better things you can do with it, but my knee might not hold up to the stress.”

  Because he was still on one knee. Deion sank down to the ground next to him, cupped Carlton by the back of his neck, and touched their foreheads together. “Ask me again.”

  Carlton chuckled against his lips. “Marry me, Deion.”

  “That wasn’t a question, asshole, but yes. A thousand times yes.”

  Carlton pulled back, thrust a hand in the air, and whooped out, “He said yes!”

  The sound of clapping and cheers was almost deafening, as Carlton slipped a ring on Deion’s finger. He couldn’t believe this shit. He was going to get married.

  Olivia rushed over, phone in her hand. “It’s Grandma.”

  Carlton put the phone on video and beamed into it. “Your son said yes,” he said, while Deion’s mouth fell slack.

  “Ma? You were in on this?” What in the hell had been going on behind his back?

  She smiled, and looked genuinely happy for him. “Wonder of wonders, this man has given you everything you’ve ever wanted and I’ve ever wanted for you. Be happy with him, Deion. Your father and I love you.”

  Deion was going to start crying again. “I love you too, Mommy.”

  “We’ll be out to check on you soon. You treat my boy right, Carlton,” she said, and he smiled.

  “You have my word, Mrs. Jones.”

  Ma hung up, then Carlton pulled Deion in for another kiss while passengers yelled “congratulations” as they walked by.

  “So, um, where are we going? Because we didn’t actually pack any baggage, on the off chance I might convince you to come home with us, and if we’re going to get your suitcase off the plane, we need to hurry.”

  Deion laughed, the sound light and joyous to his own ears, and pulled Carlton in for another kiss. “Honey, let’s go home.”

  * * *

  “Where are we taking them?” Deion asked Carlton as he got off the highway and turned into an unfamiliar neighborhood.

  Carlton glanced over at him. “You’ll see.”

  They drove through what he vaguely recognized as Georgetown, noting the wide, immaculate sidewalks and trees Carlton just knew were perfectly coiffed in the summer, despite their bare branches now, before stopping in front of what looked like a three-story freaking mansion. He checked the address on his GPS, shrugged, and climbed out.

 
“What the heck is this?” Trey asked, his voice almost childlike with awe.

  Carlton chuckled and bounded up the stairs, Deion and the kids trailing behind him. He heard pounding feet coming toward the door even before he rang the bell, then it opened.

  Lawrence stood on the other side, in a T-shirt and pajama pants, a young girl wrapped around his leg. He looked at them and smiled. “It’s about damn time.”

  “Daddy said a bad word. He owes five to the swear jar!” The little girl scampered off, cackling.

  “Five dollars?” Olivia’s mouth was wide open.

  “Given what he charges per hour, he can afford it,” Carlton mumbled, and Deion laughed. Carlton squeezed his hand and pulled him close, more satisfied than he had a right to be when Deion melted into his touch.

  “Thank god y’all came to your senses,” Lawrence said. His smile hadn’t lessened. He stuck his hand out to Trey and Olivia, then invited them in. They hugged Carlton and Deion, before darting inside.

  Deion straightened and frowned. “They’re staying here?”

  Carlton grinned. “On the off chance you said yes, I kinda wanted a few days alone. Lawrence said he’d have his three youngest and they were welcome to come by.”

  Lawrence huffed. “And can you believe it? Larry and Lana are both here too, so I’ve got seven.” He held up a hand before Carlton could say anything. “And they’re both still welcome. Y’all go on home and celebrate. Get some for me, shit.” He winced and looked behind him, like he was checking to see if anyone had heard them. Deion laughed when he blew out a breath, waved, and shut the door in their faces.

  Deion blinked a few times, and turned to Carlton. “Home?”

  He nodded. “Let’s go.” They were quiet on the way, and Deion let the reality of what had happened seep into him. His ring glinted even through the overcast sky, the weight of it heavy on his fingers. This was real. He was getting married. He would be a father. Good lord.

  “Lemme ask you a question,” Carlton said as they drove.

  “Shoot.”