All Chapters of Our Secret Baby: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

CarysMORE IN COMMON THAN YOU KNOW The sound of running water immediately registered when I walked in the door. Cynthia had sent me home at 2:30 with a bunch of information to review. I was thrilled that I’d be able to relieve Deacon a bit early.“Deacon?” I yelled.“In here!” I heard him holler.Oh no. This isn’t good.When I got to the bathroom, I said, “I would ask what happened, but Iknow what happened.”Deacon held Sunny stiffly away from his body as the tub filled. She had poop all the way up her back.“There was no way the wipes were going to clean this,” he said, sweat pouring from his forehead.I rolled up the sleeves of my jacket and took her from him. “I’ll take it from here.”Deacon immediately left the room. I thought he ran out to vomit or something, but he returned soon after with a bath towel. “Now I know where you keep them, in that small closet in the hall

CarysDID YOU LOOK IN MY BOX? A few days went by before I heard from Deacon again. I’d had this funny feeling he was keeping his distance because things had teetered on crossing the line during our dinner—not necessarily on a physical level, but certainly on an emotional one. Sharing that video of my Swan Lake performance was like taking the Band-Aid off a wound that hadn’t quite healed yet. But somehow, after letting it air out, I didn’t feel like I needed the Band-Aid anymore. Reliving my past, even for that brief moment, had been therapeutic. And my confidence in doing so had everything to do with Deacon first opening up to me.The story he’d told me about his past made me feel less alone. I’d never imagined my happy-go-lucky neighbor was hiding something so painful.I got a text from him on Monday afternoon while Sunny was napping. Deacon: Hey… I got a package that was meant for you. Delivery guy got the apartmen

DeaconTHE BIRTHDAY GIFT After I’d returned to my apartment, I couldn’t stop thinking about Carys and that guy in Starbucks. Fuck. Why had it bothered me so damn much? Seeing her with a dude who looked like he wanted to eat her up definitely got under my skin. I’d always told myself nothing could come of my attraction to Carys, yet I seemed unable to turn off the jealousy. That was messed up, because it couldn’t work both ways. That old saying came to mind again. You can’t have your cake and eat it, too, Deacon.It may have been a business thing, but there was no way Carys was walking away from that meeting without an invitation for something more. And why wouldn’t she take it? He looked like he had his shit together.It was only a matter of time before she started dating, anyway. As her friend, I’d have to suck up my feelings on that. She had needs—as her masturbation book had proven. What I’d neglected to tell her back then was that s

CarysUSE 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

CarysHE WASN’T ALONE I couldn’t believe I was thinking this, but I wished Deacon had never gone down on me. I wished I had never heard him groaning against me. I wished he’d never given me the most amazing orgasm of my life. I wished I could erase that night altogether, because nothing had been the same since.I wasn’t stupid. I knew he’d been keeping his distance since my birthday. It had been a week now, and it was clearer by the day that we’d ruined a perfectly good friendship. What bothered me the most was the sense of false hope I’d had after that night—that somehow Deacon would decide he wanted to be more than friends. Instead, I hadn’t seen or heard from him in days. Normally he would’ve stopped by with another coffee by now, but he had chosen to distance himself. Not sure I could blame him. The last time he was here, things were awkward. And I hated that. Things had never been that way before—sexually tense, maybe, but never awkward.