I looked down at her. “Oh hey, Mrs. Winsbanger.”
She lifted her chin. “I hear Fuckboy is moving.”
“Yeah. I’m actually going to his goodbye party.”
“Haven’t heard a peep from him in a long time. Not since the day you yelled at him.”
Come to think of it, she was right. No vocal action had come from Deacon’s bedroom since that day I’d announced I could hear him through the wall. I knew he’d had sex since then, but he must have chosen to do it away from home. Either that, or he’d taped someone’s mouth shut. I cringed.
“He’s actually become a very good friend since then, Mrs. Winsbanger. And I’m sad to see him go.”
“Watching him go is my favorite—nice ass.” She winked and abruptly shut her door.
Hornball. She’s worse than me!
* * *
Deacon’s friends and co-workers had gathered in a private room Adrian rented out at the back of a restaurant downtown. It was a mix of well-dressed late-twenty-somethings, laughing and drinking. There were a fair number of attractive women, and I wondered how many of them had been with Deacon in ways I hadn’t.
I spotted Deacon in the corner, talking to a couple of guys. He looked so painstakingly handsome, wearing a Polo shirt that clung to his contoured chest. His thick hair was parted a bit more than usual off his face. He was taller than most of the men in the room and stood out in the crowd. I was sure most of the women here wanted to climb him like a tree—myself included.
He hadn’t noticed me yet. I waited in one spot for a bit, observing his interactions with his friends. He sipped some amber-colored liquor and seemed a little off—his smile forced as he made conversation. I wondered if the impending departure had him on edge. He looked around mid-conversation, as if searching for something. Or someone. Is it me? When his eyes found mine, he smiled wide and immediately excused himself to walk over. Maybe it was me he’d been looking for.
To my surprise, he leaned in and pulled me into a tight hug, whispering in my ear, “Thank you so much for coming.”
His hot breath sent chills down my spine. “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”
When he let me go, he took me in from top to bottom. “Carys…you…” His words trailed off. “You look absolutely stunning.”
Feeling my cheeks heat, I looked down at myself. “Thank you. I tried. I wanted to look good for your party.”
“You don’t have to try. You’re so beautiful. Always. Even when you’re in a fucking T-shirt with coffee stains or food stuck in your teeth. But right now, you’re taking my breath away.”
I didn’t know what to make of this, except to say that for several seconds, it felt like we were in our own world. Everyone faded away.
Then he took my hand. “Come on. I want you to meet my friends.”
I relished the warmth of his hand as we made our way across the room.
Deacon brought me over to a group in the corner and introduced me to several friends and a few people who also worked for the same company he did.
A handsome man with dark, curly hair and broad shoulders joined us. “You must be Carys.”
Surprised that anyone knew my name without being introduced, I smiled. “Yes.”
“I’ve heard a lot about you.” He held out his hand. “I’m Adrian.”
“It’s really great to meet you. Deacon talks about you all the time, too.”
“I don’t know if I like that.” He winked. “Anyway, really happy to put a face to the name.”
“You, too. And thanks so much for letting us use your family’s cottage. We had the best time.” The reminder of our overnight trip to the Hamptons made me momentarily sad.
Deacon spoke in my ear, “What can I get you to drink?”
Again, feeling his breath against me put my body on alert. This “celebration” definitely called for something stronger than my norm.
“A dirty martini?”
“You got it.”
Deacon left the private area to head over to the bar in the next room. Things felt colder in his absence, a taste of what was to come in just a couple of days.
When he returned with our drinks, he must have noticed my somber look. “Everything okay?” he asked as he handed me my martini, which had several Spanish olives floating in it.
“Yeah…I guess it just hits me in waves that you’re actually leaving.”
He nodded slowly. “It’s strange that we’ve never been out like this together in all the time we’ve known each other.”
Forcing a smile, I replied, “Better late than never?”
“I guess. Yeah. Just wish we had more time.” Deacon took a long sip of his drink.
I stuck a toothpick into one of my olives and popped it into my mouth. “How are you holding up?”
He sighed and stared blankly into his glass. “Honestly?”