The Anti-Boyfriend(52)

“Want another drink?” he asked.

“What was that all about?” I responded.

“I don’t like that guy.”

“Then why is he at your party?”

“I didn’t invite him. He’s a friend of a friend who tagged along. I know that was rude of me, but I don’t give a fuck right now. I don’t want him anywhere near you. He’s an asshole to women.”

A sheen of sweat covered Deacon’s forehead. He seemed very on edge. I decided to drop it.

He went up to the bar and got us two more drinks, an amber-colored liquid for him and another martini for me. He took a long gulp of his as I watched.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

He made a face that looked like the alcohol burned his throat going down, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He finally said, “Am I making a mistake?”

“About leaving?”

“Yeah. I mean…I’m happy here. There’s no part of me that wants to move. I feel obligated to take the job because it’s a great opportunity. But I can’t help wondering if I’ll regret leaving.” When I didn’t respond, he shook his head. “What am I even saying, right? My apartment is mostly cleared out, and I’m supposed to be reporting to the new office on Wednesday. I guess it’s too late to change my mind.”

It was the first time I realized he might be having serious doubts. I’d assumed it was a no-brainer based on the money. My true opinion on the matter wouldn’t have been helpful—I was too biased—so I tried not to make him feel badly about the decision he’d already made. My heart, however, screamed, “Don’t go! Please don’t go.”

If Deacon never wanted to take a chance on us, maybe it was better if he did leave. Maybe he had to leave in order for me to get over him. Whether he left or stayed, I was destined to get hurt, considering I couldn’t seem to shut off my feelings for him.

“What time is your flight again?” I asked.

“Eight thirty Monday morning.”

Tears formed in my eyes, but I wouldn’t let them fall.

“I need to say goodbye to Sunny,” he said. “I wasn’t sure how best to do that. I feel like she’ll notice me gone and wonder what happened. I don’t want to make her sad. But I feel like I owe her an explanation, even if she can’t fully understand.”

The thought of him saying goodbye to my daughter, who I knew cared so much for him, hurt my heart. I could no longer control my emotions. I needed to escape to the bathroom to cry.

I placed my hand on his arm. “I’ll be back, okay? I have to use the restroom.”

Without waiting for his response, I weaved my way through people to get to the single, unisex bathroom in the back of the place. After knocking to make sure it was empty, I entered and wiped the tears that were now falling down my face as I looked in the mirror.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Why didn’t you tell him not to leave when he expressed doubt? Maybe he would have listened. Maybe he would stay.

I knew that was crazy talk. It would have been selfish to convince Deacon to stay for my own self-serving purposes. But he seemed sad tonight, didn’t he? Almost like he wished someone would give him a good reason to stay. Despite my internal argument, I knew it was a losing battle. The sadness Deacon felt tonight was normal—fleeting. He’d go to Tokyo, settle into his new and amazing job, and never look back.

Visions of Deacon wandering amidst the bright lights and vibrancy of that foreign city ran through my head. He’d have his pick of any beautiful Japanese woman he wanted. And they’d all flock to the gorgeous, larger-than-life American man.

Someone knocked on the bathroom door. Crap. I’d spent way too long in here. Deacon was going to wonder what happened to me.

“Be right out!”

My eyes were still red. Deacon would know I’d been crying if I returned now. With someone waiting, though, I felt pressured to leave. I’d have to sneak outside for a few minutes before going back.

When I opened the door, a woman stood there. She looked pissed.

I walked past her and made my way to the exit. The cool outside air hit my face as I leaned against the brick building, planning to take out my compact and make myself look presentable before returning to the party. Hiding my tears with more makeup was going to be a challenge, but I would manage. Masking my emotions on the other hand? That had never been my forte, especially when they hit me as hard as they had tonight.

Before I had a chance to dig my mirror out of my purse, I heard his voice.

“Carys—Jesus. Adrian told me he saw you walk out the door, and I didn’t know what to think. I—” He stopped talking. “Are you crying?”

Am I supposed to deny it? A sniffle escaped me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to see me like this. I came out here to get some air.” Looking down at the sidewalk, I said, “I feel so stupid that you caught me. It’s just…when you were saying all that stuff, how you were sad to leave, saying goodbye to Sunny, it brought out everything I’ve been feeling since the day you told me you were moving away.” I looked up. “Deacon, what if after Monday I never see you again? This sucks. And I’m sorry I’m not handling it better. I didn’t want to show it.”

I shut my eyes, regretting having let my vulnerability escape. Then I felt his hands wrap around my face. My eyes flew open, only to close again at the feel of his hot mouth on my lips. I might have stopped breathing for a second. My legs felt weak as I melted into him. When it hit me that this was really happening, I opened wider, letting his tongue inside and remembering all too well what it felt like on other parts of my body. But despite the intimacy of that night, this moment was different—more passionate than sexual. I tasted him for the first time, breathing him in like oxygen. And I couldn’t get enough.