24. Mature

24

Mature

Deacon

I'm one happy man. When you're dating a girl as wonderful as Alice Beaumont, it's impossible to feel anything but sheer joy. She makes everything better with her flirty texts, beautiful smile, and eagerness to help. The girl works all day at her store and still finds the energy to help me out at the bar. I should tell her to go home, but I love being around her too much. And with every second I spend near Alice, my wounds heal just a little more.

When I trudge downstairs to pick up Lola from school, I notice Mr. Darcy on my counter again.

I sigh, shaking my head.

"Come here, big guy," I say as I walk in. He meows loudly and revs up his purring the moment I take him in my arms. I cuddle him a little and walk him back next door.

Alice is arranging the books on the display table when I push through the door.

We just texted a few minutes ago, but I already miss her.

"Hey." She smiles, then frowns when her eyes land on Mr. Darcy. "He was in the bar again?"

"Yeah," I say, carrying him toward her. When I place Mr. Darcy on the floor, he saunters to his bedding area. Now that my hands are free, I take Alice's face in my palm and kiss her soft lips. I'll never get tired of this.

"I'm sorry," she says against my lips.

"It's fine." I sneak another kiss. "It's my fault. I have to replace the ripped screen on that back window. At least he never comes in when the bar is full."

"Yeah." She shakes her head, then looks at me, her eyes teasing. "Maybe you should stop cuddling him so much if you don't want him coming around."

I frown. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I saw you the other day," she says with a small laugh. "You give him tons of love. That's why he always comes to your place."

I roll my eyes. "Fine. I might have a thing for that cat."

Alice gives me a pointed look.

"And his owner," I add, grinning, "the brunette with the disarming smile and incredible body."

She giggles, wrapping her hands around my neck. "Much better."

She closes the distance between us again, and with every brush of her lips on mine, she makes my life just a little bit brighter.

On the train ride back from school, Lola barely talks to me, and I try, unsuccessfully, to find out what's wrong with her. I'm just hoping she'll feel better tomorrow. If she doesn't, I'll have to call Alice for reinforcement.

She has her appointment with Dr. S., and when we get home, she locks herself in her room. She claims she's doing homework, but I'm pretty sure she's reading. Just before the bar opens, I knock at her door and tell her I'm going to work. She mumbles a response, and I let out a long sigh .

The bar is soon packed, and I work nonstop for the next three hours. Alice is staying home with Emma tonight, and I'm glad. I don't want her to spend all her time working. As part of my nightly routine, I run upstairs to check that Lola is asleep since she has school tomorrow. But when I open her bedroom door, it's empty.

"Lola?" I call, my scalp prickling with worry as I jog to the bathroom. Empty too. So is the rest of the apartment.

Panic starts to build, and I hurry downstairs. Maybe she was in the bar, and I didn't see her. Even though she's not allowed in when it's open, she might have needed something. I scan the bar and check the restrooms, but I don't think she's here.

"Have you seen Lola?" I ask Maxime and Hayley, who are having a round of drinks with Caleb and James at their usual table.

Hayley frowns. "No, she's not here."

"What's wrong?" Maxime asks, standing up.

I drop my arms at my sides, my breath wheezing. "I—I can't find her."

"Maybe she's with Alice at our place?" Hayley suggests, and my racing heartbeat slows down just a little. Why didn't I think of that?

I zoom out of the bar and ring their doorbell .

"Who on earth is ringing my bell at ten o'clock at night?" a grouchy-sounding Emma demands through the intercom.

"Sorry. It's Deacon. Is Lola with you?"

"Deacon?" she asks, sounding puzzled. "No, why would she be?"

I hear voices murmuring through the speaker, and the buzzer lets me know I can push the door open.

"What's going on?" Alice asks, coming down the steps in her pink satin pajamas.

"I can't find Lola," I rasp, holding the wall for support. "She's not home, and she's not at the bar. I don't know what's going on."

Her face falls. Then, she hurries back up the stairs. "Hold on. I'll check her socials."

"What?" My voice booms, reverberating between the staircase walls as I follow after her. "What are you talking about? I've forbidden her from using social media. You know that!"

She winces, turning around. "I know, but she created an account anyway."

"Why didn't you tell me?" I snap, my volume reaching dangerous levels .

"Sorry," she says, unlocking her phone in a hurry. "I figured it was better to let her keep it and friend her. At least one of us would have an in."

My entire body starts to boil as I point a finger at her. "Don't make parenting decisions about my niece." My tone is sharp, cold—the exact opposite of how I'm feeling right now.

Our eyes meet for a second. "D—do you want me to look?" she asks, her bottom lip trembling.

I rake a hand through my hair. "Yes."

I can't believe this is happening. On what planet did Alice think it was a good idea to keep me in the dark about something like that? The fact that Lola created an account behind my back is disappointing, but she's a teenager. Alice is supposed to be an adult. I follow her upstairs and pace around their living room while she checks her phone.

"I got it. She was just at Joe's Fast-Food Joint with that boy from school. I think they might be going out."

"What?" My blood is now boiling over, spilling around me until I'm trapped in smoldering lava. "This is all your fault! You and your stupid books put all these dreams and expectations in her head. She's fourteen!"

She swallows hard. "I'm sorry, Deacon. But she's a good kid, and she won't do anything stupid. Let's go to the restaurant. She only posted fifteen minutes ago, so maybe they're still there."

"No," I bark, seeing nothing but red. " I'm going. You've done enough. I thought it was a good idea to bring you into Lola's life—into mine—but I was wrong. Look where we are now! What was I thinking? I can't do this. Lola needs stability and mature role models. You're pretty much still a kid yourself!"

I gave Lola a bit of liberty for one night so I could be with Alice, and now I'm paying for it. I thought Alice would be a positive influence, but instead, she turned me into a bad parent. My relationship with her is impacting my decision making, and I can't have anything happen to Lola. I just can't.

Without even sparing a glance back, I storm out of the apartment as fast as possible. I need to find Lola.

Alice

The door closes with a loud thud, and I fall to my knees. I'm pretty sure tears are rolling down my cheeks, but I can barely feel them. All I feel is pain, emptiness, worry. And guilt. A lot of guilt .

An arm wraps around me, and I immediately recognize Emma's amber perfume. "Are you okay? That was brutal."

I open my mouth to speak, but I can't. Instead, more tears blur my vision, and I bury my face in Emma's neck.

When the front door flies open, I raise my head, thinking it's Deacon coming back. But it's Hayley. She hurries to my other side, comforting me.

I don't know how long we stay like that. Probably until I finally stop crying.

"He's right, you know," I whimper. "I'm not mature enough for him, for Lola. I can't be a girlfriend and a substitute mom. Now look what I've done. I should have told Deacon about her Instagram account."

"Come on. It's not your fault," Emma says, rubbing my back. "You didn't tell her to run away, nor did you encourage it. You decided that earning Lola's trust and keeping it was more important. And if you ask me, that was a good call."

"For sure," Hayley says. "If you'd told him, he would have forced her to delete it, and she would have just made another one. At least she trusted you enough to give you her handle and accept your follow request. How else would you have figured out where she is tonight? "

"Exactly," Emma says. "If I were Lola, I'd have opened another account five minutes after deleting the first one. You did the right thing."

That's what I thought too. But Deacon doesn't see it that way, and I can't blame him. From his perspective, I betrayed him. Add to that the fear and stress of searching for her . . .

"I'll be fine," I mumble, standing up. "I'm just going to go to my room."

Once there, I lie on the bed and wait, hoping to hear a noise from next door. I know Deacon won't come home until he finds her safe and sound, so I keep my ears peeled.

I might not be a parent, or even have the maturity for it, but at this very second, I really feel like one.