One drink at Sapphire quickly turned to multiple, and before I even realized it was happening, I’d spilled the full story, all the gritty details and everything. I could’ve blamed the booze for my loose tongue, but the truth was I loved being able to share what I was building with Deacon with my closest, bestest friends. What I was feeling for him was so much more intense and important than anything I’d felt for another man before, and I wanted to shout how I felt from the rooftops for everyone to hear.

After finishing my story, I lifted my margarita to my lips and took a long sip through the straw. When I finally glanced around the table, I noticed all three of them were watching me, their mouths hanging open in complete and utter shock.

“I…,” Sophia started, but then immediately stopped, at a loss for words.

Lola picked up her water glass and started chugging. Once it was gone, she slammed it on the table. “I’m not going to lie, I just came a little bit.”

Some of my margarita went down the wrong pipe and I began choking. By the time I got a hold of myself, Daphne was fanning her face with the drink menu. “That boy’s all kinds of sexy caveman, isn’t he?”

“Sweetheart, you have no clue,” I teased.

They burst into laughter as our waiter dropped off the appetizers we’d ordered to share.

I picked up a crostini with basil pesto spread and shoved the whole thing in my mouth. When the alcohol flowed, manners be damned.

“He told me to pack a bag for more than one night,” I told them through a mouthful of food.

Lola sniffled loudly from across the table, her dark eyes shiny with unshed tears.

“Oh God, not again,” Sophia groaned.

“Sorry, sorry. I’m just so happy for you.” She hiccupped and blinked rapidly to try and stop from bursting into tears thanks to her insane pregnancy hormones.

Unfortunately, I had already surpassed tipsy and was smack-dab in the middle of drunk, so I was feeling the love just a little too much, and started tearing up as well.

“Oh dear Lord, they’re both about to burst,” Daphne teased.

Ignoring her, I looked right at Lola and said, “I l-love you.”

“I l-love you t-too,” she blubbered.

“Sweet merciful Mother Mary. I need more booze to deal with this.” Sophia waved at the waiter and ordered herself another glass of wine. By the time it was dropped off, Lola and I had gotten a handle on ourselves.

I downed the rest of my margarita before standing from my chair. “I have to hit the ladies’ room. Will someone order me another drink while I’m gone?”

Sophia nodded. “Sure thing, babe.”

It wasn’t until I was on my feet, moving to the restroom, that I realized just how loose the tequila from my margaritas had made me. I did my business, washed my hands, and was busy reapplying my lip gloss in the mirror when I suddenly started thinking about all the benefits of drunk sex with Deacon.

Dropping the tube of gloss back into my handbag, I pulled out my phone and called up my text messages.

Me: How do you feel about drunk sex?

It took Deacon no time at all to reply.

Deacon: Depends. Drunk enough to hurl is a no-go. Drunk enough to let me do anything I want to that sexy body of yours… I’m all for that.

Oh man. A shiver coursed through me at his response.

I was just about to type that I was totally down for the latter as well when the bathroom door swung open and a svelte, exotic brunette came walking in.

She looked at my reflection in the mirror, and something about her expression immediately set me on edge. “Hi,” she greeted, unexpectedly.

“Uh, hello.”

I figured she would move to one of the stalls, so I was more than a little surprised when she hesitantly made her way to the sink beside mine. “I know this might sound weird since you have no clue who I am, but I couldn’t help but overhear you talking to your friends.”

“Okay,” I dragged out, not having the first idea where this was going.

“By any chance, were you talking about Deacon Lockhart?”

With that, the bad feeling I had got even worse. I hadn’t even noticed this woman, but she’d not only noticed me, she’d also eavesdropped on my conversation, and apparently felt she had a right to confront me in a restaurant bathroom.

“I’m sorry. Who are you?”

She gave her head a shake, sending her glossy hair swinging. “Sorry. I’m Deanna. I used to… well, Deacon and I… that is, we used to see each other.” My stomach fell to the floor. “Well, what I guess I mean to say is that I thought we were seeing each other, but apparently he thought something different.”

“What do you mean?” I couldn’t help but ask, even though I really didn’t want to know.

“Look, I know this isn’t my place, but like I said, I overheard you and I just thought that maybe… I should warn you.”

My forehead wrinkled as my brows scrunched into a severe V. “Warn me? Warn me about what?”

“He’s not the type of guy you should get attached to. He’s a total playboy. You might think you’re in, that it’s serious, but trust me, that man doesn’t do commitment.”

The happy alcohol-induced looseness I’d been experiencing disappeared in an instant. I was suddenly stone-cold sober, and every muscle in my body had locked up tight. “I think maybe you’re talking about a different guy.”

“I’m talking about Deacon Lockhart. That’s who you’re seeing, right? The guy who owns The Black Sheep?”

No longer able to form words, I simply nodded.

“Then it’s the same guy. And it’s not just me, believe me. That dude’s run through most of the female population of the city, and as soon as he’s done with them, he sends them packing. Women talk. None of us know the full reason, but word through the grapevine is that a chick did a serious number on him a long time ago, and because of that he refuses to commit.”

Oh God. Oh God! I felt like crying again, but that time for a totally different, unhappy reason.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” the unknown Deanna continued. “I just thought you should know.” Then, after dropping a bomb that rocked my entire world, she walked out the bathroom door.

I stuffed my phone back into my purse, not bothering to open the texts from Deacon that came through while Deanna was giving me a verbal punch to the gut. My eyes scanned the dining room of their own accord, landing on Deanna and her pack of girlfriends. I caught her gaze and quickly averted mine, hustling on my high-heeled feet back to my own friends. The girls could see the upset written all over my face the second I made back to the table.

“What’s the matter?” Daphne asked as soon as I sat down.

“Nothing,” I lied as I lifted my newest margarita, put the straw to my lips, and sucked.

“I call bull,” Sophia stated. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost. And I saw you staring at that woman over there.” She tipped her chin in the direction of Deanna’s table. “What did she say to you?”

“Just… told me some unfortunate truths.” Like the fact that it was my fault Deacon had slept with—and subsequently left brokenhearted—most of the women in the greater Seattle area. I’d done that to him. And I hated myself for it.

I shook off my morose thoughts and glued on a smile that didn’t come close to reaching my eyes. “Let’s just forget about her and get back to our girls’ night.”

They looked like they wanted to argue, but thankfully let the issue drop. Halfway through margarita number four, my cell phone began to ring from my purse.

I pulled it from my bag and sucked in a deep breath at the sight of Deacon’s name on the screen before answering the call.

“Hi.”

“Baby, you disappeared on me. You okay?”

God, I was the worst kind of person.

He was such a thoughtful guy. I could hear the noise from the bar behind him, but he’d still called to check on me when I went radio silent after starting a text conversation.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

He didn’t say anything for several seconds, then “What’s wrong.”

Damn it. Years of being a part of each other’s lives meant the guy knew me way too well. “Nothing. Seriously. It’s all good. I’m just having one last drink with the girls.”

“Fiona,” he said in a warning tone. “Remember that shit I said last night about honesty?”

I blew a frustrated puff of air through my lips since he couldn’t see my scowl through the phone. “Deac, I’m fine,” I stressed.

“Fee, you’re lying.”

“We can talk about it later,” I tried.

But Deacon wouldn’t be put off. He wanted answers, and he wanted them right then and there. “Or, seeing as I already have you on the phone, we can talk about it not. Not a big fan of giving you time to stew on shit, sweetheart.”

“Fine,” I snapped, my mood bouncing all over the place thanks to the booze and the bathroom bombshell. I’d fully intended to have this conversation with him when I got to his place later. The last thing I wanted was to do it over the phone, but when Deacon wanted something, he ran roughshod over anyone in his way in order to get it. “I ran into someone tonight, and let’s just say the conversation was less than pleasant.”

“Who was it?”

“I didn’t get her last name, seeing as I was totally unprepared and blindsided by her, but do you recall a Deanna? Beautiful, dark hair, looks like she belongs on the pages of a magazine?”

“Shit.”

“From what she said, I’m surprised you’d remember. I mean, there were so many women I’m shocked you can keep their faces and names straight.”

“Fee, it’s not like that—”

“You know, I was going to talk to you about this later tonight because I was upset. Not because she made it sound like you’ve been with so many women that it would put a porn star to shame, but because the reason you refused to settle down was because you had your heart broken, and I hated hearing that. I fucking hated hearing that you behaved like that because of what I put you through. But you didn’t want to give me the opportunity of talking to you on my time. Oh no, what Deacon wants, Deacon gets. So now I’m sitting here with my girls, and they’re staring at me like I’ve lost my mind, which I kind of have seeing as I’m having a freaking meltdown on the freaking phone in the middle of a freaking restaurant!”

“Baby—”

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to end this conversation and get back to my girls’ night so Sophia, Daphne, and Lola can help me get my shit together. I’ll meet you at your place later. After that, you and I will have a discussion about you being a bossy pain in the ass who pisses me off way too damn often. How’s that for honest?”

“Sounds like we have a plan,” he answered in a way that, I swear to God, sounded like he was trying hard not to laugh.

“Good. I’ll see you later,” I clipped before hanging up, because if I heard him laugh, my head might have exploded on the spot.

Jeez, I was losing my damn mind.

And it was all Deacon Lockhart’s fault.