Deacon: Still up for that drink?
A response came in almost immediately.
Carys: Yes.
Deacon: I’m outside your door. Didn’t want to knock and wake Sunny up.
A few seconds later, she opened. “Hey.”
“Hey.” I swallowed at the sight of her.
Carys wore black leggings, showcasing her toned legs, and a vintage Bon Jovi T-shirt. Her hair was damp. She must have just come from the shower. My eyes wandered down to her bare feet. Her toes were painted a light pink, like the color of a ballerina slipper. Fitting. She wasn’t even trying to look good, and I couldn’t remember her ever looking as beautiful as she did right now.
Fuck me.
She blinked a few times as she looked up at me. “I didn’t think you’d come by.”
Following her inside, I said, “Why not?”
“Just a feeling, I guess.”
Conflicting emotions rushed through me as I towered over her, continuing to take her in. She was right in that I hadn’t been planning to come over. But she was wrong in probably assuming it was because I was more interested in hanging out with someone else. Just the opposite. Not only was I physically attracted to this woman, I connected with her in a way I’d never felt before. It scared me.
“Did she get to bed okay?” I asked.
“Hmm?” Carys seemed as much in a daze as I was.
“Sunny. Did Sunny go down okay?”
“Oh. You mean after several full rounds of The Best of the Bee Gees? Yes.”
“You’re welcome?” I joked.
Carys yawned as she laughed.
“You said you’d be up for a drink, but I have a feeling I’m late to the party.”
She shook her head. “I think my body is tired, even though my brain isn’t. This day is just catching up with me. But I have no desire to sleep. Not sure I feel like a drink this late, though.” She rolled her eyes. “God, I’m twenty-five, and I sound like such an old lady.”
“Twenty-five? Am I missing something? When did you turn twenty-five?”
She looked down at her feet. “Today.”
What? My eyes widened. “Carys…today is your birthday?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
She shrugged. “Because I didn’t want you to feel obligated to hang out with me. I wanted you to choose to come over because you wanted to have a drink with me, not because you felt sorry for me on my birthday.”
Wow. If I’d known, I would’ve definitely canceled my plans.
“Confession…” I said.
“Yeah?”
“I didn’t come for a drink,” I admitted. “I came because I wanted to hang out with you. But if I’d known it was your birthday, I definitely would’ve been here earlier. We could’ve ordered Ichigo. I wish you would’ve told me.”
That was the most honest I’d been about my feelings since we’d met. Maybe it was dangerous to admit I would’ve dropped everything for her tonight, but it was the damn truth.
Carys blushed. “I’m sorry.”
“Goddamnit, girl, you only turn a quarter of a century once.” Wracking my brain, I scratched my head before turning back toward the door.
She followed. “Where are you going?”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll be back in a few.”
* * *
I’d done the best I could on short notice. Hitting the two grocery stores within walking distance, I managed to find Carys a cake and a present.
It still floored me that she was going to let this day pass without doing anything special.
Carys looked down at the cake I’d found. It had probably been baked a few days ago. It had orange and blue frosting, which reminded me of the Florida Gators. If I’d had more time, I might have found a way to write Happy Birthday, Carys, but this would have to do.
“So just imagine it says, ‘Happy birthday, Carys-Like-Paris’, okay?”
She smiled. “It’s the thought that counts, and it was an amazing gesture. Thank you.”
We sat on the floor, eating directly off the cake with our forks.
“This ain’t bad,” I said with my mouth full.
“Not sure I want to know where you even got a cake this late, but I have to say, it’s pretty damn good.” She had blue frosting stuck on her teeth, and I had the urge to take her mouth in mine and lick it off.
Whoa.
Distraction needed. Stat.
I reached into my pocket and took out the gift card I’d purchased from the kiosk at the store. “There weren’t a lot of options. So I hope you can use this.”
She took the gift card from me. “I love Macy’s. Maybe someday I’ll get a sitter for Sunny and spend the whole day shopping. That sounds divine.” She placed the gift card aside and stuck her fork in the cake. “You spent too much. You didn’t have to do that. You’ve made me feel incredibly special.”
I stopped chewing. “You are special. You’ve become a really good friend.”
There I was again, attempting to define our relationship, mainly as a means of reminding myself that I couldn’t cross the line, though I wanted to so desperately right now.
She seemed to remember something. “Oh! I forgot! I actually have something for you, too.” Carys disappeared into her bedroom.
She returned, holding something she’d apparently crocheted, but I couldn’t identify it.
Carys smiled proudly. “Your little crochet story inspired me to give it another go.” She handed it to me. “I made this for you. Can you guess what it is?”
I didn’t want to insult her. But it didn’t look like…anything. A tiny umbrella slipcover? What the hell was it? Actually, to be honest, it looked like a…cock sock.
“Is it a crocheted condom?” I finally asked.
She covered her mouth. “Oh my God.” Looking over at it, she said, “Actually, you’re right. That’s exactly what it looks like. Shit. But no.”
“So, it’s not a cock sock?” I teased.
“It’s a cover for your pan handles! You said you burn your hands on your cheap frying pans. I made you a little cover for them. I thought I was being clever. It was also easy to make compared to the hat I’d been failing at. I actually found someone who made these online, and she listed instructions. But apparently, I made you something else.”
She was so fucking sweet. I couldn’t believe she remembered I’d even said that about my damn pans.
“Actually, that’s really cool. Who knew there was such a thing? Thank you for thinking of me. And I promise not to try it on for size.”
Carys turned red and hopped off the couch. “Maybe we should have that drink, yeah? I feel like I’m getting a second wind.”
Licking the frosting off my lips, I agreed. “Okay. Yup.”
She retreated to the kitchen and brought out a large bottle of pink champagne.
“This is my last one. I’ve had two bottles chilling in there for months—since before Sunny was born. The first one I opened the night I found out I got the job. Just not sure how to open this without waking Sunny.”
I took the bottle from her. “Let me take it next door and open it over there.”
“Good thinking.” She smiled.
After I returned with the open bottle, we settled into the couch with our respective flutes.
“So…” She took a long sip and swallowed. “If you’re here…then obviously your date didn’t go as well as you might have hoped.”
It upset me that she thought she was someone I only turned to when things went wrong. Of course, I’d given her that impression.
“Actually…” The words were at the tip of my tongue—that I’d specifically canceled the date early because I wanted to come here instead. I thought better of admitting that, though.
“Yeah. The date was just…meh.”
Feeling more comfortable with each sip, I lay back into the couch and put my feet up. She did the same from her spot at the other end of the sofa, her bare toes tau
nting me. Toes were not normally something that attracted me. But this girl’s toes? I wanted to take each and every one into my mouth and devour them. Fuck. I needed help.
Carys downed the last of her bubbly before setting the glass down on the corner of the coffee table. Then she stared up at the ceiling and said, “You know…I used to imagine where I’d be at twenty-five. My life looks nothing like that. But I’m okay with it.”
I turned to her. “You should be. You’re doing everything right. You’re an amazing mother, and your career is thriving. You’ve accomplished more than most people your age.”
She smiled over at me, then stared into space for several seconds.
“What are you thinking about?” I asked.
“Neil—the guy you saw me with today—he mentioned that when he went to our competitor, The Manhattan Ballet, the man he spoke with over there was basically badmouthing us.”
It hit me. “Sunny’s father…”
She nodded. “Yeah.”
“What an asshole.”
She sighed. “I talk a lot about how he abandoned his daughter, but I don’t often deal with my feelings about what he did to me. And hearing that today opened up so many old wounds.”
Anger filled me at the thought of how he’d hurt her. I wanted to beat the shit out of him.
“You want to talk about it?”
“Not really. I wish I wasn’t focusing on him tonight, but the more I think about what he might have said to Neil, the more it enrages me. I’m sure he knows I work for City Ballet now. You’d think, at the very least, he wouldn’t try to jeopardize a company that’s basically the hand that feeds his child.”
My fists tightened. “It’s one thing to be competitive and want to win. It’s another to knock someone else down.”
“Exactly.” She exhaled and shook her head. “Anyway, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought him up.”
“It’s okay. You need to get it out. You can vent to me anytime.”
She closed her eyes a moment. “I hadn’t had a lot of experience when I got involved with him. I had one boyfriend in high school back in Jersey, but my focus was always on dancing. After I moved to New York, I dated a little, but never anyone exclusively. Charles was my first serious relationship, the first man I gave my heart to. It’s going to be a very long time before I trust someone again because of my experience with him. The problem is, I…” She shook her head. “Never mind.”
“Don’t stop. What were you gonna say?”
“It’s a little bit TMI.”
Now she really had me curious. “TMI? Are you forgetting the circumstances under which we first got to know each other? I’m the TMI king, remember? Nothing is off the table, Carys.”
Her face turned red before my eyes. Then she finally said, “Okay…what I was going to say is…I really miss having sex. Unfortunately, I can’t have it without a man. And I’m in no place to trust one right now, so I’m not likely to let a man into my life long enough to have sex. It’s a conundrum.”
My dick hardened, and my heart began to race. “How long has it been exactly?
“Well, do the math. Sunny is nine months. I was pregnant with her for nine. So, eighteen months?”
Jesus. I’d always assumed she hadn’t been with anyone since Sunny was born, but I really hadn’t done the math. I couldn’t imagine going more than a few months without sex. But a year and a half? That would kill me.
I swallowed hard. “That’s a long fucking time, yeah.”
“And the worst part is, something happened with my hormones after I had Sunny. They went crazy, and I’ve been hornier than ever. As you now know from my unfortunate book order, I struggle with getting myself off. Because there’s nothing like human touch. So I’m in this constant state of frustration.”
Fuck. Me.
Hearing her say that made me practically cream my pants. I’d never been more turned on by a conversation in my life. It felt like my hormones were raging worse than a teenage boy on Viagra. There was nothing in the world I wanted more than to make her come. Right here and now.
“Have I stunned you into silence?” she asked.
God knows how many seconds went by. But I knew the reason I kept my mouth shut: the words begging to be said were dangerous. If I spoke, they were going to come out.
As the seconds wore on, the need to say them became unbearable.
My voice was barely audible. “I could give you an orgasm…if you want.”
She turned to me suddenly. “What?”
Clearing my throat, I said, “I could make you come. We wouldn’t have sex, but I can give you a damn good orgasm.”
It was like I’d lost my damn mind.
She moved back a little. “I’m not some charity case, Deacon.”
Shit. She’d taken it the wrong way.
“No. I didn’t mean to imply that this was about charity. It’s not. Let me rephrase.” I took a deep breath and exhaled. “I would love to give you an orgasm.”
Carys stared at me in disbelief. “That’s not why I told you about my issue—so you would offer to get me off. I was just venting. I—”
“I know. I know you weren’t expecting me to say what I just did. Honestly, I can hardly believe it myself. But all I could think when you told me you wanted an orgasm is that I…really want to give it to you.”
You could cut the tension with a knife as she just continued to stare at me. My heart pounded, hoping I hadn’t made a huge mistake, one that would cost us our friendship.
She blinked several times. “I appreciate the offer. But I would feel weird saying yes. Because it would be one-sided if you gave me an orgasm, and we weren’t having sex.”
So, let’s fuck then, a voice inside my head suggested. Actually, that voice was likely coming from below the belt. As much as I wanted that, going there would be too dangerous. “You underestimate the enjoyment a man gets from pleasuring a woman.”
It was like someone had removed every shred of sense from me tonight. My words were completely bypassing my brain.
“I can’t let you do it.” Her face was beet red.
I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, and it seemed I had. Now was the time to drop it.
“Okay. Fair enough. I’m sorry if I crossed a line.”
She let out a long, shaky breath and closed her eyes. “No. You didn’t. It’s okay.”
I watched her as she stayed in that meditative state. I wondered what she was thinking, but I was too afraid to ask. It was better if I said nothing at this point. My mouth had already gotten me into enough trouble.
After a while, she turned to me. “Are we supposed to just go back to normal conversation right now?”
“We can try.” I forced a smile. “I’ll go first.” Clearing my throat, I asked, “So how was Sunny tonight when you put her to bed?”
“You asked me that earlier.”
“That’s true.” I scratched my chin. “Fuck. Okay. Did you see they’re raising the rent?
“Yeah. That sucks.”
“This isn’t working, is it?”
“No.” She laughed nervously. “Not in the least.”
CHAPTER 11
Carys
USE ME
Deacon and I ended up putting on a movie—some old Jason Bateman comedy on HBO—but I hadn’t heard a word of it. The vibe was completely awkward. He’d shocked me with his proposition.
His expression was stoic as he watched the movie alongside me. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, whether he was unaffected or disappointed by my refusal of his offer.
I, on the other hand, couldn’t stop thinking about it, and I wasn’t sure if that would ever change. Would I be able to think about anything else around him ever again?
But the bigger question was: why did I not entertain his suggestion? It wasn’t like I had any other gorgeous men knocking down my door. I trusted Deacon, and I knew he meant well in wanting to “help” me. His intention wasn’t to hurt me. He cared about me and wanted to
offer me a safe way to get off without involving a stranger.
I spent the next several minutes making a case to change my mind as the movie played in the background.
My brain went in circles. How exactly did he plan to get me off? Was he going to use his mouth? Stop thinking about it. It would ruin your friendship. But oh my God. What would it be like? As uncomfortable as I was, I could feel myself getting wet at the thought of what might’ve been.
It was past midnight now. The movie was nearing the end. When I looked over at Deacon this time, I realized he hadn’t been staring at the screen. He was looking at me.
When he realized I’d caught him staring, he started to apologize. “I’m sorry if I fucked up, Carys. I—”
“I want it,” I blurted.
His jaw fell. “You want…what?”
My breathing was erratic. “You’re gonna make me say it?”
He straightened in his seat. “Yeah. I need to hear you say it.”
My words came out in a whisper. “I want you to make me come.”
His breath hitched. “You sure?”
I looked into his eyes so he knew I was serious. “Yes.”
His breathing grew heavier. Now I had no doubt he was turned on. It wasn’t just me.
“You have to promise me something,” he said, turning his whole body toward me.
“Okay,” I said shakily, my palms sweating, so nervous but wanting him more by the second.
“Don’t overthink it. Just lie back and relax. Don’t think about anything but enjoying it. And after you come, I’m gonna leave. No awkward talk. I’m gonna pleasure you, and that’s all there is to it. And when we see each other again, we don’t need to talk about it or analyze it. Promise me that first.”
Beyond the point of no return, I would have agreed to just about any terms now. “I promise.”
“Good. Because turning something that’s supposed to make you feel good into something that makes you anxious or worried is counterproductive.”
“I get what you’re saying.” Trying hard to reassure him, I nodded. “I’m good.”
The Anti-Boyfriend Page 10