Sugar

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.”