Sugar Read online

  I hadn’t decided if I’d forgive her. I shouldn’t care this much. I should be in a place where casual was just fine. No expectations, no problem. But I wasn’t. I was eye fucking my peephole every night and stalking my text messages for any response from her.

  By Wednesday, I was pounding on her door. She was home—I could hear her phone ringing when I called—and yet she wouldn’t fucking answer.

  “Avery! This is childish.”

  Fury bubbled out of helplessness. What the hell sort of woman was I dealing with? It was like dating a child.

  “Answer the fucking door—please.”

  By the end of the week, my pride was a pile of mush, and I was embarrassed for myself. This wasn’t me. Women never affected me like this. I needed to get control of my senses.

  I spent the remainder of the week working through my emotions and convincing myself that I was rejecting her before she ever rejected me. It was bullshit, but it was also the only way I could move on. And I would move on. There was no way I’d start the new year like a pussy whipped little boy pining over his crazy bitch of a neighbor. I had better things to do.

  And she was a bitch. Only a bitch could act so cold and warm at the drop of a dollar. Infuriated and at my wit's end, I decided if she wanted to ghost out of my life, I’d beat her to it. She might be a cold-hearted bitch when she wanted to be, but I could be a callous prick if that’s what she wanted.

  19

  Avery

  I was a big, fat coward—and turning into a bit of a recluse. After our date, Noah assumed all was good and he’d won, but we both lost. I just couldn’t give him what he wanted. And that meant he couldn’t give me the one thing I needed—a friend.

  The following week, I hid in my apartment, binging on Christmas classics and eating things I had no business putting in my mouth. Being that Noah and I shared a floor, a building, an elevator, and the common areas, I had to change my usual routine to make sure we didn’t cross paths.

  I stopped going to the gym at dawn and started going at seven-forty-five after Noah disappeared for the day. I also started studying on campus so I didn’t have to be around when he was home on the weekends. As far as my clients… I broke my usual rules and asked them to come up to my door. That way if I did have to use the hall, I was never alone.

  I knew Noah watched me in the past. He’d admitted as much. He knew what clients were closest to me, who I allowed to kiss my cheek, and which ones took me out the most. These men were my only source of income and while I still had nothing sexual going on with any of them, I had a business relationship with each. Noah wouldn’t dare interfere with that because whether he approved or not, it was my job.

  He called and texted and even banged on my door a few times, but I never answered. We weren’t going to be romantically involved. Once he understood I wasn’t budging, he could have settled for being my friend, but he didn’t. His texts crossed a line, turning nasty before they stopped altogether.

  * * *

  Avery, please call me.

  Why won’t you answer your texts?

  I know you’re home!

  Fine, you want to be a fucking coward, enjoy passing time with your Johns and fulfilling an empty life! We could’ve had something real!

  * * *

  Tapping my pencil on my textbook, I pursed my lips, ignoring the pinch of rejection that accompanied his silence. I should be used to having no friends. I’d written off everyone I left in Blackwater. And living the secret life of a sugar baby didn’t really create genuine relationships.

  Some of my clients confided in me. I listened and comforted and tried to offer advice as much as I could. But that wasn’t a reciprocated dynamic.

  Sugar babies were meant to be low drama and soothing company, pretty sources of confidence-boosting companionship. It was very one-sided, but that’s why I got paid. I couldn’t show up at a job with baggage. I had to smile and laugh at all the right moments. Dish out compliments and flatter men the way they liked their egos stroked. So, as much as I knew their problems, I couldn’t share mine.

  I shut my textbook and slouched in my chair. “This sucks.”

  Snatching my phone off my desk, I scrolled through my recent texts. It had been four days since Noah knocked on my door and his texts had grown increasingly nasty toward the end. But the last one hurt the most.

  My thumb swiped over my messages, opening up his texts as a painful reminder of where things stood. It should have cemented the accomplishment and taken Noah off my to-do list but, instead, reading his texts again only left me wallowing in doubts that his accusations were right on the money—maybe fear did control me more than anything else.

  * * *

  I don’t know why I ever wanted someone who doesn’t even have the basic manners to answer the phone. Have a nice fucking life.

  * * *

  I ruined it. Or he did. Maybe we both did. Did the autopsy really matter? Our relationship was pronounced dead the moment I said goodbye to him the morning after our date and I needed to wrap up the wake.

  But his angry words remained on my phone, a lingering reminder of how I could manage to fuck up just about anything if I tried hard enough. A reminder that I wasn’t worth the work, as he eventually gave up and moved on.

  It was a new year and I had nothing better to do than bathe in my own self-pity. Since I’d spent the holidays alone again, and only interacted with men who believed I was someone else, no one suspected how down I could get this time of year.

  There was so much confusion on top of my usual holiday depression I felt drunk on a toxic cocktail. I needed something to cheer me up. The new semester had just started and wasn’t filling the void in my life the way it usually did. I didn’t have any appointments until tomorrow night. I’d go insane by then if I didn’t get the hell out of this apartment.

  I scrolled through my contacts, my thumb pressing down on the only other person who might cheer me up. He answered on the second ring.

  “Avery. I wasn’t expecting to hear from you today.”

  “I miss you.”

  Micah made a noise that said he didn’t mind hearing that he was in my thoughts. “You sound … down.”

  “Am I interrupting you?” Maybe I had seasonal depression.

  “Interruptions tend to be unpleasant. I never mind hearing from you. Is there something you need?”

  And that was the perk of being a sugar baby. Some of my Daddies made it their business to take care of me. Their role in my life made them feel necessary, powerful, and satisfied, while I felt momentarily adored in a world of make-believe.

  They achieved real emotions from the fake role I played. But with Micah, it wasn’t always fake. He was my first and he knew me better than all the others.

  “Can we go somewhere? Do something?”

  “Are you free tonight?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s still early. Why don’t I set an appointment for you at the spa? I’ll spoil you and take you to dinner around seven.”

  “Thank you, Micah.”

  He was so generous. He helped me get my apartment, bought me clothes, and pampered me. It had been three and a half years since meeting him, and once school was finished my business as a sugar baby would conclude. I wasn’t sure I wanted to let him go when that happened and those feelings had been confusing our arrangement lately—at least on my end.

  “Tonight’s on me, Micah.”

  “Avery.” His deep voice was thick with objection. “That’s not how this works. You know better. The moment you start doing favors it stops being a job and starts being a hobby. Hobbies don’t pay the bills.”

  “I still have…” It was bad form to discuss one Daddy with another. The game was to make them feel like the only man that mattered. Micah knew I had multiple clients. He’s the one who started me in this line of work. “Sorry.”

  “We’ll discuss this over dinner tonight. We’ll set normal rules aside and meet as friends—but just for tonight.”


  “Thank you.”

  “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

  As soon as I hung up the phone I received an email notifying me of an electronic transfer into my account. Micah might agree to put the rules aside, but he was never going to stop honoring our original arrangement. He promised to take care of me and it meant something to him that he kept his word.

  In a way, it meant something to me, too. He was dependable, trustworthy—unlike some other people I knew.

  20

  Avery

  Micah was the perfect solution to my mood. An evening with him affirmed everything I already knew but had started to doubt.

  I chose to be a sugar baby the moment I realized I wouldn’t be able to afford a degree without serious financial help. It was scary and exciting and he guided me along the way, teaching me how to run a legit business that covered the cost of a life I never dreamed of having. He advised me on how to handle myself and made sure I knew how to avoid men who took advantage. It was a smart choice then and a smart choice now.

  “Don’t forget, the last mile’s always the longest,” he said, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear as we said goodnight at my door.

  “Thank you—for everything.”

  He pressed a kiss to my cheek and hugged me, his long arms bundling me in a supportive hold that, for a minute, I wished would never end. Then the elevator pinged.

  I drew back just as Noah stepped into the hall carrying a box of items in his arms. The elevator shut behind him and there was a painful second when no one said a word and all the tension of the past few weeks pummeled my chest like cannon fire.

  His mouth flattened as he walked to his door, silently unlocking his apartment and stepping inside. I flinched as the door slammed behind him. Micah’s arms still held me and I had no doubt he felt me tense.

  “Did you sleep with him?”

  I drew back and looked up at Micah in surprise. He never asked about my personal life or other relationships. I wasn’t sure how to answer. Honesty seemed best. “No.”

  “But you were involved.”

  He wasn’t asking, but I answered anyway. “We had a date. It didn’t end well.”

  “Do you need me to get involved?”

  “No.”

  He glanced at Noah’s door, and then mine. “There are only five months until graduation. How do you want to proceed, Avery?”

  He was asking if I wanted to move. I loved my building, my home. “I’ll tough it out.”

  “If he’s a problem—”

  “He’s not. He’ll get over it.” But would I?

  Micah nodded. “If you change your mind let me know.”

  “I will.” That was a lie. I’d never ask him to find me a new apartment or involve himself in my personal drama just because my neighbor was a jerk who hurt my feelings. “I’m fine. Really.”

  There was a silent moment where I wasn’t quite sure if we made a mistake discussing my reservations tonight. I told Micah I still liked my job, but there was a strange fear associated with letting it go and stepping into the real world after college.

  I also tried to confess how much I worried about losing my connection to him, but he never truly allowed me to get the words out. I wasn’t sure why that was, but I sensed he knew what I wanted to say and had a reason for deterring me from saying it.

  “Goodnight.” He kissed my cheek again, but this time his mouth lingered near the corner of my lips—different from his usual goodbye.

  A tingle of heat radiated in my chest. The placement of his kiss seemed intentional as if meant to tell me something. Something I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.

  “I’ll see you in a few days.”

  That night I couldn’t sleep. I kept picturing Noah’s face and hearing the echo of his slamming door. He was either a juvenile prick or he hated me for being one. Neither was what I wanted.

  Tossing and turning, I tried to think of other things, but my mind always went back to him. We weren’t friends. We were nothing. If I could somehow channel my sadness about that into anger, maybe I could hate him, too. But I couldn’t. Losing Noah just made me sad.

  It was stupid. We barely knew each other. In a few months, I’d be moving out of the building and taking my degree to start a brand new life. For all I knew, I could end up in California or Oregon or Minnesota. He was a blip in time and I was giving myself an ulcer worrying about the minuscule significance he held in the grand scheme of things.

  He. Was. Nothing.

  The following night when Josh walked me to my door and thanked me for a nice evening while casually placing a thin envelope in my hand I felt a little better. This was normal. This was good.

  “I’ll see you next week?”

  “Of course,” I reassured. He was a regular and one of my sweeter clients.

  “Goodnight, Avery.”

  As he called up the elevator I stepped into my apartment but paused at the sound of voices. Noah’s laugh filled the hall followed by a distinctively female giggle.

  “That’s what I said!” The female voice seeped into the air like noxious gas and my shoulders tensed.

  “Pardon me,” Josh said, stepping into the elevator after they stepped out.

  I peeked through the cracked door, remaining hidden by the frame. After seeing Josh, he’d know I was home. But he was clearly too preoccupied to care.

  Noah laughed again. “I wish I could have been there.”

  “It was so funny. You would have loved it.”

  They approached his door as he reached for his key. My stomach pinched at the sight of the woman. She looked a couple of years older than me, closer to Noah’s age. She was undeniably pretty, with long dark hair and the height I wanted. We looked nothing alike.

  Her body brushed against his arm and something sharp stabbed in my chest. It was late, almost midnight. Were they on a date?

  He turned, smiling at whatever she’d said, and stilled. His blue gaze snagged with mine, expectant and satisfied to find me watching him. I couldn’t hide the hurt tightening my expression. His mouth flattened and he looked down at the other woman.

  “Tonight was great. It’s so refreshing to go out with a mature woman.”

  My chin trembled. He knew exactly where to stick his knife.

  “Same. You should see some of the guys out there. I’m so glad Laurel set us up.” Her body pivoted, angling her best assets toward his front. Her fingers trailed over the sleeve of his coat. “I don’t have any early plans for tomorrow. I could stay the night.”

  I stopped breathing. Everything inside of me twisted airtight as I waited for him to turn her down. His eyes lifted, his gaze shooting to my door and back to her.

  Don’t. Please don’t…

  His hand lifted as his head lowered. Bile rose in my throat as his lashes slowly drifted lower and his mouth pressed against hers. I couldn’t watch. Quietly shutting my door with a shaky hand, I stepped backward until I’d walked myself all the way into my den and stumbled onto the couch.

  He was a jerk. I hated him. He wasn’t my friend and he’d never be my friend again. I didn’t want someone like that in my life. So why was I crying?

  21

  Noah

  The moment I heard her door shut, I broke the kiss. Unsure if Avery still watched through the peephole, I kept my voice low.

  “Let’s not rush things. How about a cup of coffee, though?”

  “Sure.”

  I unlocked my door and slipped an arm around Morgan’s slender waist, nuzzling her neck for good measure. We mustn’t disappoint the audience.

  Her hair didn’t smell especially nice, and her lips were too thin for the sort of kissing I enjoyed. Though she’d been a fun date and an indisputably attractive woman, there was zero chemistry.

  It pissed me off that I seemed to measure every quality against Avery. I was going out with Morgan to get over Avery. It should be good that they were so different. But I was the fool who kept looking for a clone.

  I made two cups of
coffee and hardly paid attention to how she took hers. What was the point?

  I could probably go to bed with her. She’d said something about having an open morning. But the desire just wasn’t there. What the hell was wrong with me? Maybe I should just do it, force myself to get into it so I could get over my damn neighbor.

  “You don’t talk much.”

  “Sorry?” I stopped staring at my coffee and glanced at her, her words taking a moment to register. “Oh. I guess I’m more tired than I thought.”

  She studied me for a moment then put her cup on the counter and stood. “I should go.”

  “You don’t have to…” What was I doing? I only wanted to keep her here long enough for Avery to think we were fooling around. Good God, I was pathetic. “I’m sorry if this isn’t ending the way you hoped. I have a lot on my mind.”

  She smiled and pressed her fingers to the back of my hand. “Hey, tonight was fun, and I got a free meal. At least we’ll know each other the next time we’re out for your sister’s birthday.”

  I appreciated her letting me off the hook. “It has nothing to do with you. I’m sort of hung up on—”

  “Your neighbor?”

  Startled she’d guessed so accurately, I drew back. “Please tell me Laurel told you that.”

  Morgan laughed. “She warned me you were getting over a girl who lived in your building. And I sensed we had an audience in the hall. It was the first time you got affectionate all night.”

  “Sorry. That was a total dick move.”

  “No, I’d call it an extremely human response. How about this? If I ever need to make an ex jealous and you happen to be single, you help me out the way I helped you tonight. Deal?”