The Anti-Boyfriend(29)

Deacon proceeded to the line. Was it my imagination, or was this run-in a little awkward? My eyes wandered to where Deacon stood at the register. He seemed fidgety as he waited for his drink. I wondered if it bothered him to see me with Neil. Maybe that was wishful thinking.

A few minutes later, Neil was talking when Deacon walked past us with his coffee. Rather than interrupt to say goodbye, he winked at me before heading out the door. My eyes lingered on the exit. I wondered if Deacon thought there was something going on between Neil and me.

It was as if Neil could read my mind. “So, I hope this doesn’t come across as inappropriate, Carys, but I’ve really enjoyed your company and was wondering if perhaps before I return to Palm Beach next week you might let me take you to dinner?”

Oh boy. Neil was decently attractive, smart, and successful. It was tempting to take him up on his offer. But there was no point, especially since he didn’t even live here. And mixing business with pleasure was never a good idea, as I’d learned the hard way.

“That’s really nice of you to offer, and I’m flattered, but I don’t think I have the availability. Not sure if Cynthia mentioned it, but I have an infant daughter. I’m a single mother. So, it’s not easy for me to get childcare on a whim.”

His eyes widened, and for the first time today, Neil seemed speechless. “Cynthia hadn’t mentioned that, no,” he finally said. “You’re so young. I never imagined…”

“Yeah. She was a surprise.”

I could’ve used this opportunity to tell him the man he’d met with over at our competitor was also the deadbeat father of my daughter, but I didn’t. And Neil didn’t try to convince me to go out with him after my revelation. Apparently having a child was enough of a deterrent.

We stayed at Starbucks for the better part of the next hour as the conversation moved back to business. He grilled me about my history as a dancer and asked for my honest opinion about how the money might be put to use at both companies.

When five o’clock finally rolled around, I was relieved to have to walk only a block down the street to get home.

Once I got to my door, I was surprised to hear music playing inside my apartment.

And not just any music. The song was an old one: “How Deep is Your Love” by the Bee Gees.

The Bee Gees?

I only knew them because my mother had loved disco when I was growing up.

I assumed maybe Sharon had a thing for the seventies until I opened the door and saw Deacon standing there. The music came from his phone.

What the hell?





CHAPTER 10





Deacon



THE BIRTHDAY GIFT




After I’d returned to my apartment, I couldn’t stop thinking about Carys and that guy in Starbucks. Fuck. Why had it bothered me so damn much? Seeing her with a dude who looked like he wanted to eat her up definitely got under my skin. I’d always told myself nothing could come of my attraction to Carys, yet I seemed unable to turn off the jealousy. That was messed up, because it couldn’t work both ways. That old saying came to mind again. You can’t have your cake and eat it, too, Deacon.

It may have been a business thing, but there was no way Carys was walking away from that meeting without an invitation for something more. And why wouldn’t she take it? He looked like he had his shit together.

It was only a matter of time before she started dating, anyway. As her friend, I’d have to suck up my feelings on that. She had needs—as her masturbation book had proven. What I’d neglected to tell her back then was that she needed a good fuck more than any self-service, whether she realized it or not. I just couldn’t be the one to give it to her. But I wasn’t going to encourage her to go out and get it from some asshole who didn’t deserve her, either.

My coffee was cold, and I’d tried to force myself to get some work done, but I couldn’t concentrate. Although it wasn’t because I was thinking about Carys anymore. It was Sunny. She wouldn’t stop crying. Sharon was next door with her, so I knew she was in good hands. But when the crying hadn’t stopped after a full thirty minutes, I’d decided to head over there to make sure everything was okay.

Sharon had opened the door looking completely frazzled. We’d met once before, so she knew who I was, and Carys had always told her to call me in the event of an emergency.

She’d thrown her free hand up, carrying Sunny with her other arm. “I can’t get her to stop crying. I’ve changed her diaper. Fed her. I don’t understand. She hasn’t done this before.”

I pressed the back of my hand to Sunny’s forehead. “What’s up, Sunny?” She didn’t feel hot or anything. I took her from Sharon.

Her crying slowed before it eventually stopped.

“Oh no you don’t. We can’t go down this road. There needs to be another way to get you to stop.”

Sharon seemed amused. “Does she always stop crying when you hold her?”

“Most of the time, yeah.”

“That’s so cute.”

“It is until you can’t put her down.”

When I placed her in the swing, the crying started again. I was determined to help Sharon find a solution that didn’t involve me picking Sunny up.

I took out my phone and scrolled over to my music-streaming app.