I avert my gaze with a contrite nod. “Sorry.”
“Look, why don’t you do something to distract yourself?” Deacon suggests, back to his usual genial manner. “Go flirt with some of Sully’s friends. They’re not Manhattan-based so I’m going to make the assumption you haven’t slept with any of them yet.”
I shrug. “No guarantees—I’m well-travelled.”
It’s not hard to work out which guys Deacon’s referring to, because they’re the only guests at this little celebration that I don’t already know. They’re in their mid-thirties—which I guess makes sense if they’re buddies of Sullivan’s from high school—and they’re each reasonably attractive. Nothing mind-blowing, but I wouldn’t turn any of them down if they approached me at a club.
It’s been an exhausting week, though, and I’m not really up for making the effort right now. Plus I’m not sure how thrilled Sully would be if I hooked up with one of his friends.
I shrug and turn back to Deacon. “Yeah, I don’t know. I’m not really feeling it tonight.”
Deacon’s brows shoot up. “Seriously? It’s…” he tugs his phone from his pocket to check the screen. “Just after nine thirty on a Friday night and you’re not “feeling it”? Usually by now you’d have found yourself a trick and disappeared in a cloud of smoke.”
I offer an irritated frown. “Yeah, well, like I said—I’m not really in the mood tonight. The last few weeks have been fucking exhausting and I’m totally wrung out.”
He chuckles. “Wow, I’ve never seen this before. You’re never not in the mood.”
“Jeez, way to make me sound like a sex addict,” I grumble, taking a sip of my drink.
Deacon sighs, looking immediately apologetic. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it to sound like that. I’m just surprised, that’s all.” He waggles his eyebrows at me. “Maybe there’s more to it than just being exhausted?” he suggests. “I mean, I’ve seen you practically comatose multiple times after pushing yourself to the max during exams, and you never avoided sex. So maybe this is something else…”
I stare at him in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
He shrugs. “Well, maybe this is your subconscious telling you you’re ready to stop screwing around and actually look for something real.”
I groan in exasperation. “Fucking hell. I go a couple weeks without sex and you start hearing wedding bells? Talk about making something out of nothing.”
Deacon’s eyes widen dramatically. “Weeks?”
“Don’t look at me like I just proved your point,” I scowl at him. “It’s not a lack of interest, it’s a lack of opportunity. But even if I lived like a monk for months, or even years, that still wouldn’t be some secret signal that I’m looking to “settle down,”” I tell him, forming air quotes with the hand that’s not busy holding my drink. “My life is perfect as it is. I don’t need anything more.”
Deacon lets out a beleaguered sigh. “Why do you always act like being in a relationship would be akin to torture? Maybe if you actually looked you could meet the love of your life, like I did.”
“I already met the love of my life when I was seven years old.”
Deacon just stares at me, looking stunned.
I mentally play back what I just said and realize it probably sounded a little weird. “You know what I mean,” I say with a wave of my hand.
His brows shoot up. “Doyouknow what you mean?”
I let out a grunt of frustration. “All I mean is this whole idea you have in your head that my life is somehow lacking because I don’t have a billionaire boyfriend is ridiculous.”
“I never said you needed a billionaire boyfriend,” he says with a roll of his eyes.
“But you think I needsomeone,”I press. “You think my life isn’t complete. You think I’m going to die a lonely old bachelor who yells at kids for making noise in the hallway after eight pm.”
Deacon lets out a soft chuckle. “Actually, I think the more likely scenario is that you’ll die in your bed during a three-way with guys about a third of your age.”
I smirk at him. “Sounds like a pretty good way to go.”
“Skyler…”
“Yeah, well, the only reason you think all that is because you never had a Jackson. If you had a Jackson you wouldn’t need Tanner.”
“Jackson’s not a thing to have, Skyler. He’s a person.”
“He’smyperson,” I say stubbornly.
