The Anti-Boyfriend(10)







Deacon



DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT




I was pretty sure my balls had fallen asleep. Or if not fully asleep, they were definitely numb from lack of movement. Not wanting this baby to wake up again, I hadn’t moved an inch the entire time Carys was in the shower.

How did I get myself into this situation?

Oh yeah. I’d felt bad for Carys and wanted to show my concern. I never thought I’d actually be able to help. Because shit, what the hell did I know about babies? Absolutely nothing. And I’d always thought it was better that things stayed that way. Such a huge responsibility. The last thing I expected was to be comfortable holding her, or that she’d actually want me to. Apparently this little one liked me for some reason.

When Carys came back out, I nearly did a doubletake. Her long, straight, strawberry-blond hair was down and towel-dried. I’d never seen her hair down before. She typically had it tied up, which was also nice because she had a beautiful neck. She wore a short nightgown that clung to her petite frame. Carys was attractive in a graceful way. It had come as no surprise that she’d been a ballet dancer, though normally she didn’t show off her body. And why should she? Taking care of her daughter was her priority. It wasn’t like she needed to impress anyone.

But damn. It felt kind of wrong to be checking her out under the circumstances. From the moment I met her, I’d thought she was hot. But the fact that she’s someone’s mother automatically made her off limits.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

“Perfect.” I whispered. “Aside from the fact that my ass has that pins-and-needles feeling from not moving. But I’m afraid if I hand her to you, she’ll wake up.”

She laughed. “You’re a saint, Deacon. Feel free to pass her off to me any time, even if she does wake up. You have no responsibility to stay.”

Maybe not, but I didn’t want Sunny to start crying again. At least one of us—Sunny—was getting sleep in the current situation.

Carys sat across from me on the couch.

She looked down at her baby. “I still can’t get over the fact that you hadn’t even held a baby before, and you nailed it on your first try.”

“Eh. She makes it too easy for me. Unfair advantage.”

Carys smiled. It was nice to see that she’d relaxed a bit. She’d seemed really tense earlier tonight when I’d helped her up the stairs, and that was before any of this crying stuff happened. Come to think of it, Carys seemed wound up most of the time. Not that I blamed her. She had her plate full.

She really did have a pretty smile. And I really needed to stop noticing that. This girl might as well have had a sign on her face that read: Don’t even think about it. I wouldn’t be dating anyone who had a kid; children were not in the cards for me. It would be bad enough to inevitably fuck up a relationship with someone who lived next door, but to have a child involved who might be hurt when you left? No, thank you. No matter how damn cute—or intriguing—Carys was, I wouldn’t be going there.

She fascinated me, though. Even before I knew anything about her, I’d had the sense that there was more to her than met the eye. Something in her eyes, maybe—they were always trying to tell a story. For a long time, I couldn’t put my finger on it. But when I saw that photo from her ballet days, it started to make sense. Her life as she knew it had been cut short by a traumatic event.

I could relate to that. Maybe I’d somehow sensed we had that in common. Maybe that’s why I was drawn to her the moment I looked into her eyes.

I wanted to know more about her past, but I didn’t want to pry.

She caught me a bit off guard when she did some prying of her own.

“So…how many women do you date at once? I hear them over at your apartment from time to time, but I don’t know if they’re the same ones or different people.”

“Don’t hold back,” I said, eyes widening.

She blushed. “Sorry if I’m being nosy. I’m just curious.”

“I’m kidding. It’s alright.” I sighed and shrugged. “I date around. I’m not gonna lie. But I don’t sleep with all of them, as you’re probably assuming. Contrary to popular belief, it gets a bit exhausting.”

She pursed her lips. “Hmm... It’s interesting you say that.”

“Why?”

“I notice that you… Well…” she hesitated.

What is she getting at? “I what?”

“When I’ve…overheard things…”

“Yeah?” I prodded.

“I’ve noticed that you last a long time. I sometimes wonder if that’s stamina or—”

“Boredom?” I laughed.

“Yes. I suppose.”

I nodded. “Okay. Truth? That can be due to a lack of interest sometimes. Humans are not machines. I like sex—love it with the right person. But there are times when I’m not in the mood, or the chemistry wasn’t what I thought it was going to be.”

“Sorry for all the questions. I’m just living vicariously through someone who actually has a sex life.”

Maybe it was a dumb question, but I asked anyway. “Why can’t you have a sex life?”

“It’s kind of hard to go out and meet people when you have a baby. I can barely go to the bathroom.”

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