Sugar

“Ah, too busy to date?”

Hardly. “Sort of.”

“Maybe if you proved you were worth her time she’d find time to fit you in.”

I leveled my sister with a look that said I wasn’t in the mood for her snark. The entire situation with Avery was riddled with complications. It threw the idea of a one-night-stand with her into the high maintenance category. I wanted to sleep with her, not marry her.

“I changed my mind about her. That’s all.”

Scanning the room again, I looked for someone to get my mind off … other things. No one appealed. They were all either too tall or too short or too fair or too dark. It pissed me off that Avery had become the measuring stick to all other women. It didn’t make sense. I needed to get off this Goldilocks sort of thinking.

I finished my drink and shifted away from the bar. Maybe Stanley had it right. All the hot women were at the pool. God, why the hell was my sister still with him?

“I’m going to change and go for a swim.”

“I thought we were hanging out.”

I hesitated for a second. If I hung with Laurel people would assume we were together and I needed to get my mind off Avery by taking a shot with someone else. “Sorry, sis. Not tonight.”

“Thanks a lot, Noah.”

I stilled at the hurt tone of her voice and turned back to the bar. Her wounded expression hardened as her eyes narrowed.

“What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing. Go find some faceless woman to distract you—”

“Hey. This isn’t you, Laurel. What’s with the attitude?”

She shrugged. “I’m just sick of men. You all want something meaningless over something substantial.”

I returned to the bar and lowered my voice. “I’m not trying to put my nose where it doesn’t belong, but all men aren’t Stanley, Laurel. Maybe stop going out with a guy who clearly doesn’t want the same relationship you need.”

Her gaze drifted to the bar. “It’s easier being with him than being alone.”

“Is it? Because right now it doesn’t look like you’re having such an easy time.”

Her lashes lowered. “I don’t know why I invited him. I’m not even sure what we are anymore. For all I know, he’s hitting on women and then coming back to my bed.”

“Fuck him. Want me to send him home? He’s your guest, using our family’s club membership. Rescind your invitation, and he has no right to be here.”

“I don’t need my little brother cleaning up my messes.”

“I know you don’t, but I will. Believe me, I don’t mind.”

It was more than a hunch that Stanley was hitting on other women. I’d seen him getting too close a few times and finally said something to him, but the guy excused his behavior by claiming he and my sister had a sort of understanding, which seemed true, but not at all what Laurel wanted.

Laurel gave a sad smile. “You’re a good brother, Noah.”

“You’re a good sister.”

As much as I wanted to get my mind off Avery by getting inside another woman, those plans would need to be postponed. Laurel needed a friend, and since Shane had screwed me over with Margaux, my sister had stepped in as my best friend, always there whenever I needed a distraction. Tonight I needed to be hers.

Waving a hand at the bartender, I said, “Another chardonnay for the lady, and I’ll take a refill as well.”

“You’re staying?”

I sat on the stool beside her. “Maybe that whole getting drunk thing is exactly what we both need.”

“Cheers to that.”

12

Avery

It had been nine quiet days without a peep from my mother or my neighbor. I took a few nights off of work to focus on school. I needed to get my Lit grade up to a B, and my professor wasn’t making that easy. I also needed to reassess some things that were keeping me up at night.

Thanksgiving was a quiet day in the building and a much-needed chance to think. The halls remained silent through the weekend. It was as if everyone disappeared, which was probably what normal people did—home to visit families that actually enjoyed each other.

Noah claimed our conversation wasn’t over, yet he hadn’t tried to contact me in any way. I knew his schedule, but nothing about his occupation. He left around seven-thirty each morning in a suit, and I could smell his soap in the hall every day when I returned from the gym.

Then, I could sense his presence when he returned from work around six each night. I wasn’t sure if he had a commute or worked in the city, but I wanted to know these things, and that had to make me the stupidest girl on the planet.

Finished with my final English paper, I packed up my books. The close of the semester left me wanting to celebrate, but I had no one to share in my personal accomplishment, no one that really cared.