The Anti-Boyfriend - Page 55

“Yeah…honestly.”

“Not good. This party is great.” He looked around. “But it feels surreal. These last hours are moving too fast.”

“I know. I don’t think it’s really going to sink in until after you’re gone.”

He stared at me, and his eyes wandered down the length of my body. “You look so beautiful it hurts, Carys.”

My nipples hardened, and my heartbeat accelerated, but before I could respond, one of his friends interrupted.

“There’s the man of the hour,” the guy said, patting Deacon on the back. “Come on, we need your input on a bet we’re placing.”

“I’m sorry,” Deacon said as he got dragged away. “Be right back,” he mouthed.

“It’s okay.” I laughed it off and tried to do something other than ruminate over what he’d just said to me.

While Deacon was talking to his friends, a guy approached and held out his hand. “Hey. I’m Scott.”

“Hi,” I responded uncomfortably, not in the mood to make small talk. “I’m Carys.”

“Karen?”

“Carys…like Paris.”

“Ah. Pretty name. Are you with Deacon Mathers?”

“I’m a friend of his. We live next door to each other.”

“I see. Well, I couldn’t help admiring how lovely you look tonight. That pink is definitely your color. I was kind of hoping the D-Man hadn’t claimed you for himself.”

When Deacon noticed him talking to me, his eyes darkened and he moved away from his friends to rejoin me. His eyes shot daggers. “What’s up, Scott?”

“Nothing much. Just chatting with Carys here.”

Deacon grabbed my hand. “Can you excuse us?”

The next thing I knew, he was ushering me to the bar area in the next room.

“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.

Tags: Penelope Ward Romance
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