The Anti-Boyfriend(27)

Then I noticed the name on the billing receipt. Deacon’s. Although the address was mine.

Even more confused, I took out my phone. I couldn’t even type the question without laughing.

Carys: Did you order assless chaps and have them sent to my apartment?

Deacon: Wow. They came fast.

Carys: So this isn’t a mistake? Do I want to know what you’ll be doing with these?

Deacon: They’re a gag gift for my buddy, Adrian. He and I are always sending each other weird shit as practical jokes. He was complaining that he had nothing to wear for this costume party he’s going to. So, voila.

Carys: And you thought to send them to ME because???

Deacon: Just wanted to see your reaction. Plus, I figured this would make us even. You accidentally sent a masturbation book my way. And now I sent you assless chaps.

Carys: That was so thoughtful of you.

Deacon: Thank you. Just trying to be a good friend. ;-) Then came the worst thing that could have possibly happened. I meant to send the laughter emoji. Instead, my finger hit…the tongue.

Ugh! It was at the top of my choices, since I responded to Simone earlier after she sent me a photo of her dessert. I just sent the tongue in response to assless chaps.

Deacon: Okay???

Carys: Sorry! Wrong emoji! My finger slipped. It was supposed to be a laughing face.

Deacon: So you’re not an ass licker then.

My jaw dropped.

Deacon: Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

I was mortified.

Deacon: Too much?

Carys: YES. Just a tad, TMI King.

Deacon sent a zipper-mouth emoji.

I threw the phone across the couch, still embarrassed—but laughing.





CHAPTER 9





Carys



WE’RE JUST FRIENDS




Fall flew by, and before I knew it, winter was upon us in New York. I couldn’t believe I now had a nine-month-old. Over the past couple of months, my friendship with Deacon had grown stronger, but it was still just that—a friendship and nothing more.

He’d chosen not to go home to Minnesota for Christmas, instead going to Vail on a ski trip with friends from New York. While he was away, my mother came for a two-day visit from Florida. And that was enough. By the end of her stay, I’d had enough of her criticisms about my parenting and ignorant questions about Sunny. I loved my mother but could only take so much of her.

Now it was January, and I looked forward to what the new year would bring. My job was going well, and Cynthia had given me more responsibilities.

Since I was working in the office today, Simone and I met for a quick lunch. We hadn’t gotten together in a long time, so we had a lot to catch up on. I’d only now told her about the day Deacon had to watch Sunny—the day he’d saved my ass.

Simone dabbed her pizza with a napkin to soak up the grease. “I can’t believe he watched her for the whole day. What a trouper.”

“Yeah. It was pretty amazing.”

She squinted and examined my face. “You like him…”

“No.” I shook my head and lied, “Not that way.”

Says the girl who still masturbates to the transcript of our text chain about masturbation two months later.

“Why not?”

“Because he’s a friend. It’s not like that with us.” I took a bite of my pizza.

“Are you just telling yourself that?”

Speaking with my mouth full, I said, “Unfortunately, no. Deacon has had plenty of opportunities to make a move. He’s not interested in me romantically.”

“But you like him, and you’d want him to be your boyfriend if you thought he was interested, right?”

Feeling hot all of a sudden, I snorted, “Boyfriend? Deacon? Deacon is the anti-boyfriend.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means he’s the opposite of someone who would be settling down any time soon—if ever. He loves the single life too much.”

Simone glared at me, seeming to see through my defensive attempt to hide my feelings. Still, I wouldn’t admit that my hopes had been dashed too many times already.

Taking a long sip of my water, I decided to be partially honest. “I have a crush on him, okay? I’ll admit that. A pretty big one. And maybe sometimes things border on flirtatious, but that doesn’t mean I expect it to go anywhere. He and I are in two different places in life. What does a single man living in New York City want with a girl who has a baby?”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re a very beautiful woman. And it doesn’t sound like he minds having Sunny around.” She tilted her head. “How old is he?”

“Twenty-nine.”

“Hmm. So, pushing thirty, then. How do you know he wouldn’t change or grow to want a family? He seems good with kids.”

“Okay. Now you’re taking this too far.” I laughed. “Being a helpful next-door neighbor and all-around nice guy doesn’t mean he wants the real responsibility being with me would bring. He has enough women without baggage lining up at his door.”

Her face turned serious. “You don’t know he wouldn’t want Sunny.”

Her words made my heart clench. Just the thought of any man not wanting my daughter, or worse, someone leading her on and leaving, made me so sad.