Page 11 of Sugar


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We had dinner at a trendy sports bar and played some games in the game room afterward. Josh kept quiet around outsiders, but once in a while, he’d find the courage to cradle my hips at a pinball machine. He seemed harmless, so I let him. I liked Josh, and one day I hoped he found his Mrs. Right and fell in love.

Josh needed confidence, and I wanted to give it to him. So when he cupped my hips, I leaned in just enough to let him know harmless flirting worked when on a date. His tameness kept our dates worry free. I selfishly used his need to practice physical displays of affection to feed my need for mild contact.

After our date, he drove me home and watched me walk to the door. It had been one of my easier nights. Our ease together kept him penciled in, even when I could be making a bigger profit with a more affluent client.

I let myself into my apartment and kicked off my shoes. Not two seconds after I walked through the door did someone knock. A partial chill chased over my arms as I worried Josh might have gotten the wrong impression and found the nerve to finally ask for more. Sighing, I walked to the door and opened it. Not Josh, but Noah, holding my Cosmo magazine in his hand.

“The mailman accidentally put this in my mailbox.”

Liar, liar, pants on fire…

My brows slowly lifted. “Is that so?”

He smiled, and I bet that smile got him everything his little heart desired, which was probably why he thought it was okay to run around stealing people’s mail.

“The post office is always screwing up.”

Now, he was blaming the post office? Outraged on behalf of mail carriers everywhere, I arched a brow.

“Well, thanks.” I took my magazine, and his gaze lifted over my shoulder.

I turned, wondering what he saw, trying to see my home for the first time with fresh eyes. Sometimes it still got me in the chest when I stepped back and appraised how far I’d come. But now was not the time to get nostalgic and emotional.

When he made no move to go back to his door, I gave a tight-lipped smile. “Thanks for returning it.”

I’ll be sure to collect my mail more promptly in the future.

“Do you have plans Friday night?”

I frowned, wondering why he wanted to know. “Um…” Did I have plans? No, not yet. “I’d have to check my schedule.”

“I’m having a party. Just a small get together with a few work friends.”

His gaze drifted over my shoulder again, and I did a double take. He seemed to be searching for something in my apartment.

His attention snapped back to me. “Sorry, am I interrupting? Do you have company?”

Well, wasn’t he nosy? I angled the door for privacy, bracing my body between him and the opening.

My upbringing embedded the need for maintaining the upper hand in all things and left little room to trust outsiders. He obviously thought I had someone there, and I strangely enjoyed his unanswered suspicions. Mystique could serve as a powerful aphrodisiac, and I’d accidentally stumbled into teasing him again.

I lowered my lashes and smiled. “I don’t think I have plans.”

His eyes flashed to mine, and this time, I didn’t buckle under the intensity of his stare. “Everyone’s coming over around eight. Just some drinks and hors d’oeuvres. Nothing fancy.”

Where I came from, anything with a dollar store tablecloth and chips was fancy, but he wouldn’t know that. “If I’m free I’ll stop by.”

I was going to stop by because we were playing a metaphorical game of doctor—show me yours and I’ll show you mine. He saw my apartment now I needed to see his. Tit for tat. I might even steal something while there to even the score for my Cosmo.

“Great. I’ll see you then.”

“See you then.”

As I closed the door, I smiled, but quickly rolled my eyes. “You know better, Avery. Don’t waste your time.”

The rest of the week passed in a blur of dates and studying. Friday morning I received a text from a sporadic client who paid well but got under my skin. He wanted to meet downtown for a few drinks after work. I hesitated, curious to see Noah’s apartment and meet his friends, but then common sense kicked in, and I accepted the date.

It was good money, and next semester’s tuition would be due soon. I needed to cover all my bases so I could get my books and replace the money I’d sent my mother.

The polite thing would have been to tell Noah I wasn’t going to make it to his party, but he’d gone and stolen my mail, so I didn’t think normal rules of social etiquette applied.

Although I didn’t particularly care for Friday night’s client, my appearance served as my moneymaker, so I put the same care into my outfit that I would with any date. My navy blue dress fit like a glove, accentuating all the right curves. And my hair celebrated one of those amazing days where it settled into perfect flowing waves.

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