The Anti-Boyfriend

Carys’s mouth hung open. “The Bee Gees? They’re ancient! What made you think of that?”

“It was luck,” I said. “They just happened to come on. That’s when she calmed down.”

“That’s so bizarre. But…thank you for figuring it out.”

“I downloaded their whole best-of album. I’ll get it for you, too, so you have it.”

After Sharon left, we kept the album playing. Carys walked over to the swing to kiss Sunny’s head. She then kicked off her heels and plopped down on the couch, putting her feet up on the coffee table. I had to the urge to grab her feet and massage them, but I refrained.

“What a day.” She sighed.

“As in bad?”

“That guy you saw me with is a huge potential investor. Cynthia sprung him on me because she had a family emergency. It’s been nerve-wracking trying to make a good impression.”

“It seemed to me he felt you made an excellent impression.”

“Yeah, so much so that he asked me out.”

I swallowed. “Really?”

She nodded. “But that interest got squelched as soon as I mentioned I had a baby.”

Despite my jealousy, I was actually offended for her, which seemed hypocritical coming from me—a guy who didn’t want kids.

My fist tightened. “He said something negative?”

“No, no. Nothing like that. But his tone changed. It went from flirtatious to a bit more guarded.” She waved her hand dismissively. “It doesn’t matter. I wouldn’t have gone out with him anyway.”

I shouldn’t have been thrilled to hear that. I should’ve wanted her to find someone who could make her happy. Instead, my selfish ass was relieved that she wanted nothing to do with that rich prick.

“I need a drink the size of my head tonight,” she said. “And I don’t even drink much.”

“After Sunny goes to bed, you should have it. You deserve it.”

She turned to me. “Hey…thank you for coming over to help today. That’s not your responsibility.”

“Well, now that I know Sunny, it’s hard to ignore her when she’s crying. I’m just glad we discovered something that can pacify her.”

Our eyes locked for a few moments before she asked, “Big plans tonight?”

I hesitated to answer. I did have plans—with a woman I’d met online. Couldn’t say I was too excited about it, though.

“Uh…just dinner.”

Her brow lifted. “Anyone interesting?”

“Not sure yet. The verdict is still out. Haven’t met her in person.”

“Gotcha.” She played with some lint on the couch. “Well…if it doesn’t work out…you know…if she doesn’t make the cut to come back and…play Parcheesi, maybe you can stop by and have a late drink with me.”

Play Parcheesi. I remembered I’d once used that as a metaphor for sex.

“Yeah. Maybe,” I answered, sweating a little and feeling oddly anxious. This felt different. Was it just in my head?

Carys had no idea how badly I wished I could play Parcheesi with her tonight.

* * *

Her name was Allie, she worked for the city’s water board, and she liked karaoke bars. That was about all that registered. Everything else was in one ear and out the other.

I would’ve loved to believe I just wasn’t that into her, but I knew it was more than that; I couldn’t stop thinking about Carys—her invite and whether I was going to take her up on it. Aside from that one dinner, our get-togethers were always during the day—innocent. Her inviting me over for a drink in the late evening felt different.

Allie was attractive enough. If this were a different time, I might have taken her back to my place for a nightcap. But I had no interest in that tonight. Believe me, I wished I did.

Finally, we came to the point in the evening where we needed to leave the restaurant and figure out the next step. Allie asked the question that forced me to make a decision.

Out on the sidewalk, she flicked her curly blond hair to the side. “Would you be interested in seeing my apartment? It’s small but cozy. We could have drinks there instead of going somewhere else.”

Code for: would you like to come back to my place and fuck?

I could practically hear the ticking in my head as my brain formulated a response. “You know, I actually have an early appointment tomorrow. So I’d better head home.”

“Oh.” Disappointment was written all over her face. “That’s too bad. I would’ve liked to hang out some more.”

“Next time, maybe.” I forced a smile.

“Yeah.” Her tone proved she knew there wouldn’t be a next time.

Once I separated from Allie, I grabbed a cab back home.

My palms were sweaty as I texted Carys from outside her door. I’d gone to her apartment many times, but somehow the vibe from earlier had stuck; it felt different this time.

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.”