Campbell StevensIt’s Sunday, a full thirty six hours since I’ve seen him and I still can’t get Deacon out of my head.
Drink order and Nice to meet you. These two short phrases have been the extent of my conversation with him.
I managed to get through the rest of Friday night without looking or talking to him again. Okay, I might have looked at him a few times, but not when he was aware of it, or in close vicinity to me. Like a crazy person, I basically spied on him from behind the bar. Each time I approached their table, I could feel his gaze burning into me. I didn’t have to look to know he was staring at me, and it totally freaked me out. Creeper.
I know by now to stay away from guys who are that good-looking and normally, it’s an easy enough task, but there’s something about Deacon t
